Humbled

There's a pervasive idea that we should give/help only when we have more than we need/want. When we have an excess, sure, we can give to others. 

Here at the camp I see how wrong that idea is. All you need is a generous heart. The people I am meeting here are teaching me so much, I'm starting to doubt that I came here to help them. They are the ones helping me! 

I started a project to screen all the residents >40 and the pregnant ladies for diabetes and high blood pressure. That means I have been walking around the camp visiting the rooms and talking to them (through a translator) to ask them to fast for 12hrs and come see me in the morning. And they smile at me, invite me for dinner, for a cup of tea, the kids jump in my arms, or follow me around everywhere. They left everything behind, fleeing for their lives. They have nothing, but what little they have, they're willing to share. 

I'm humbled by their generosity, and I only hope I can learn from them. 

A few general pictures of the camp to give you all an idea of how things are:

Entrance to the abandoned factory converted into living quarters

Corridors

Corridors

Some families closed up little corridors and use adjacent rooms as rooms in a house

Cooking facilities 

The delicious food provided by us by some of the refugees, who insisted we all come to dinner, then actually came back to the clinic the next day and brought us another plateful! 

Here they are! I asked them to teach me how to make it. Hopefully that will work!! 

The tents outside -- it's too cold now, so they're being moved in, but some don't want to, because the rooms are all close together. In the tents they have more privacy

The UNHCR is responsible for registering them and also provide the tents, blankets and other necessities

There's even a little library!! 

Oinofyta Refugee Camp - Greece

First Impressions: I arrived late last night, and was taken directly to the volunteer house. It's a normal house down in the village, with all the amenities you'd expect. Today, after breakfast, we went to the camp. I was given two jobs: go through the census and make a list of all the residents above 40 years old, to do a screening for diabetes. Then a second job was added, to make a list of the pregnant women, also to screen for gestational diabetes, blood pressure and proteinuria, to screen for preeclampsia. There are about 650 residents in the camp, and about 65 people in total, combining both lists. Now I have to find them all, and somehow communicate to them that they have to fast for 12hrs and come the next morning so I can measure their glucose levels + blood pressure, etc. Communication will be the fun part, but I've already met some kids who speak English, so I think I'll just enlist their help as translators, at least until I learn enough to pronouce things right. 

Now it's friday evening, rainy, cold. Most people have been moved into an adjacent empty factory for the winter, but some are still out in tents. Even in the factory, it's pretty cold (no heating). I had my big jacket on most of the time (except in the clinic, there's heating in there!!), but saw kids walking around with flip-flops. I don't know if they didn't have shoes, or just didn't put them on. There's a warehouse full of donated clothes, but maybe not the right sizes, I don't know. 

All in all, it's a bit overwhelming. They were smiling, the kids were playing, I got some hugs and kisses even, but I can't imagine living in such close quarters with hundreds of people. I can't imagine having to leave your home and flee to find safety so far away from everything that was ever dear to you. Nobody would choose to risk their lives on the way and come here, if they had any other option. They don't. So all I can hope to do, is make it a little bit easier on them. A little bit safer. To smile, to play, to talk. To do any little thing I can to make it better. It'll never be normal. It'll never be good. 

Good would be to wake up tomorrow in their own home, in their own city, in their own country, and realize the war was all just a nightmare--not reality.