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The power of language: 4 things you can do.

28/2/2018

“Civilian casualties” “displaced citizens” “illegal immigrant”

These terms are used daily in the media when reporting newsworthy incidents across the globe. They put into mind far away places and things that don’t concern us, conflicts started for reasons we don’t understand or have somehow forgotten. But what if that civilian casualty was your friend? What if those displaced people were your family?

The press chose to dehumanise our brothers and sisters in need in northern France and all over the world. One of my refugee friends in Calais, Aly lost his brother on the boat crossing to Italy. He then watched three of his friends die during another part of their traumatising journey. He now sleeps rough in Calais where temperatures are regularly below freezing. This man is not just a “displaced citizen”. He’s a shy, calm, kind man who tries to teach me Farsi and has no option to return home. Aly is from Iran and is Christian. There aren’t many others from Iran and are Christian, meaning that Aly doesn’t have many friends among the other refugees. If he returned to Iran he would be “persecuted”. Another word that outlines some grey idea of injustice without any real meaning. If Aly returned he would, at best, be isolated from the rest of the largely Muslim society - at worst , he faces violence or death. But he has another option. His older sister lives in Birmingham with her family and has done for several years.

If you believe in human rights - in treating our brothers and sisters with the most basic respect - but don’t know how to help there are several things you can do.

I urge you to write to your MP in support of the family reunification bill. This would allow my friend Aly to join his sister and her family in Birmingham and sleep under a roof, not under a bridge. Full details and a link to find your MP are on Care4Calais.org
Volunteer. Care4calais always needs more hands to help and will assist in finding car shares and room shares in Calais. No qualifications required!
Advocate. Join Care4Calais on social media and like, share and talk about what they post. So many people don’t realise the scale of the issues in northern France or people’s complex stories. You can help spread the word.
Donate. Regular donations make planning easier. If you can set up a direct debit with a contribution then visit Care4Calais.org

If you want to know more about volunteering or have any other questions then please just get in touch.

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Calais: Tanya's Story

23/2/2018

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I met amazing people in Calais - Tanya was so friendly and welcoming when I first started and has become a firm friend - I'm delighted to share her story.

I jumped in the car one morning and, full of apprehension and determination, I drove down to Kent and took the Euroshuttle to Calais. To cross the English Channel is a very easy 30 minute journey and I sat there thinking just how lucky I am to be able to cross, without any dangerous obstacles, and thought about what I was about to face.

Two years previously, I had travelled to Calais with a convoy of cars full of donations to give to Care4Calais and visited the refugee ‘Jungle’ Camp when it was full to capacity of roughly 10,000 people.
Humans.
Individuals who have fled war and brutality and wanting safety. It was an experience I would never forget and I had felt I had become a witness to something significant in our history. I always thought I would come back one day to help.

Back at the Care4Calais warehouse, volunteers work hard to sort through and organise donations and prepare for distributions. Everyday we would prepare packages, clothes and useful items to give, especially for the bitterly cold days and nights. I really had no idea how the refugees were able to survive the strong winds and rain everyday. They are superhuman.

Living conditions are just horrible. There is not one particular place to settle, or formal shelter or safe area to sleep. Distributions were taken to areas where known groups are. Groups of people of all backgrounds; Ethiopians, Eritreans, Sudanese, Afghanis. All very friendly and grateful for any item or advice given.

The best part I believe we were able to give, is the human aspect. To give the opportunity to be listened to, to have a conversation, play football, the fun small things in life which make you feel like a normal equal human being. After distributions, we gave people the chance to tell us their stories, how and why they decided to take the very dangerous and long trips to cross many countries and seas to find a better life. Something I think we all deserve to have. One particular man brought me to tears as he told me he was a Midwife in Ethiopia. He was a softly spoken and polite man with kind eyes, who has brought life into this world and yet he is sleeping rough fighting for his own life. Travelling to Caen, Paris and Brussels, we heard similar situations and stories of brutality, torture and desperation.

I have one lasting memory from my last distribution at the old Jungle site. We had just finished handing out 400 pieces of fruit and, as usual, hung around to chat. Three guys from Eritrea came up to me and we quickly got on to the conversation of music. Using my phone, I decided to YouTube all their favourite tracks from back home. We stood around dancing, trying to keep warm, but also just enjoying and sharing common universal interests; music and dance.

Going home I had a strange feeling. A feeling of guilt and sadness. For how easy it was for me to go home to my lovely friends and family, leaving behind this ongoing humanitarian crisis. But, I feel privileged to have have met beautiful, strong and inspiring people, both refugees and fellow volunteers, and I will always carry them in my heart.

Tanya lives in London and spends most of her time volunteering for various charities and causes such as Crisis where she has been helping to teach basic IT skills for the past year. She also loves to travel and explore different cultures and is also passionate about dance and music.

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Imagine walking a mile in these shoes.

20/2/2018

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Imagine being woken in the night by the sudden violent act of your tent being slashed. Imagine all your belongings covered in pepper spray. Imagine not knowing if you’ll ever see your family again. Imagine risking your life every day trying to reach England. Imagine walking a mile in these shoe.

I made some great friends in Calais whilst volunteering for the charity Care4Calais. The people I met are from Afghanistan, Eritrea, Sudan, Libya, Pakistan, Iraq, Iran and elsewhere too. These people have fled war or persecution in the hope of a better life somewhere else. They’ve spent all their money and spent many months travelling to get here. My friends here are clever, funny, intelligent people who play me at football and dominos and teach me phrases in new languages. My friends sleep rough every night. It always seems to rain in Calais and the wind is sometimes so strong it might knock you over. The conditions are so bad that many refugees living here have problems with their feet from cold and wet conditions.

My job in Calais was simply to make these people’s lives a bit less awful. I can’t take them to England, I can’t offer them much. But I can take them clothes and I can take them solidarity. No-one should be forced to live in these conditions and everyone should have the hope for a better future. By standing in the cold and rain chatting and laughing I can show these guys that someone cares. By sharing my story with you then maybe we can make a small step towards policy change which will give refugees a greater chance at a successful life.

To find out more, to donate or volunteer visit www.care4calais.org

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Poppy's coat: refugees in calais

13/2/2018

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This is a work of fiction based on finding a lovely blue coat when sorting donations in the Care4Calais warehouse. Whilst the people and story are made up, the places and situations are very real. To donate a #Coat4Calais or to find out more visit www.care4calais.org

On a blustery autumn day, Poppy Edwards walked hand in hand with her dad towards the school gates wearing her brand new black and pink coat. It was the first day at her new school after she and her family had moved house and she was feeling worried. All the other children will have known each other for a few weeks already and Poppy wondered how she was going to fit it. She was pleased of her warm, cosy coat against the wind. Poppy’s dad Charlie took her all the way to her new classroom where Miss Keane showed her where to sit and introduced her to Eli who was going to be her buddy – he would show her around the school and help her to settle in.

After their morning literacy lesson, Poppy and Eli went outside to play. Poppy put on her coat. On the inside it had a special label which said:

Poppy Edwards is my name & exploring is my game

Eli noticed the label and asked, “What does that say?” Poppy explained, “My dad wrote my name there. He told me my special coat means I’m ready for anything and can go exploring in new places.” Eli nodded seriously before saying, “You better come and explore the whole playground then.” He took her round every corner of it. He showed her the place where hopscotch was painted on the floor, and the school vegetable patch where carrots were growing, and his favourite place – the giant snakes and ladders board. The snakes and ladders were painted on to patio squares which made up the board game, and there were giant counters and a dice. Some other children were playing with it and a girl with ginger hair laughed as she had to slide her counter down a slithering snake. When the bell rang and it was time to line up, Eli showed Poppy where to go.

By the time lunchtime came it was raining. Poppy knew her coat was warm and waterproof but no-one went outside. Instead they ate their lunch in the hall before returning to their classroom. Poppy and Eli played snakes and ladders but with a normal sized board at their desk. Eli was only a few squares away from winning when he had to slide down a gigantic snake! Poppy rolled the dice again and had to slide down the exact same snake. They both laughed as she moved her counter to share the same little square on the board. Just then Poppy remembered her mum had given her a special treat for her first day. She rushed over to her lunch bag. “Look Eli. Mum gave me two fruit winders. Would you like one?” She held up a mango flavoured winder in one hand and a strawberry flavour in the other. “Yes please Poppy, thanks for sharing.” The best thing about fruit winders is that after you’ve finished there’s still a card to look at. They were both a bit too little to read all the words on the cards but they had fun looking at them. “You can have my card Poppy.” said Eli, after they’d looked at them both. “Thanks, I’m going to put them in my special zip up pockets in my new coat.” Replied Poppy, and slid the cards into the coat pocket.

It was still raining when the bell rang for the end of the day. Poppy put up the hood of her coat as she went outside to meet her dad. “Thanks for being my buddy Eli.” She called as she saw her new friend meet his mum and little sister. “See you tomorrow Poppy” he waved back.

*

Sharia sat on her bed waiting anxiously for her father Araz to come home. Every day was the same, he’d go to work as a solicitor in Erbil, a city in Iraqi Kurdistan and when it came towards the end of the day Sharia and her mother and sister would listen anxiously for the sound of his keys in the door which meant he was safe. His friend and work colleague hadn’t gone home one day. The police said he was lying about their friend – saying he’d committed a crime that he hadn’t – and had taken him away. Araz’s keys jangled in the lock and Sharia ran to hug him. “We have to go.” Was all he said. Sharia’s mum started packing a bag immediately and within the hour they were out of the house. Sharia wasn’t sure where they were going but they got on a bus on the main road and she watched her home disappear through the windows.

Many days passed. Sharia and her parents and sister took buses and walked miles, they slept with family one night but after that they slept wherever they could. They eventually got to the sea. Sharia had never seen it before, it was so big that she couldn’t see the other side. They stayed a few days, sleeping outside, until one day Araz told them all that he’s managed to get them places on a boat. In the dead of night the family stepped on to the rocking boat. Sharia didn’t like the way it moved under her feet and clung to her mother as they stumbled to their places. The crossing was rough. The sea churned beneath them and they were squashed in so tight with all the other people that it was really uncomfortable. Sharia could hear someone being sick close by. “When will we get there?” she asked her father. “Soon my love, soon.” Her father replied.

Many months passed. Sharia and her family travelled on and on, heading north. They had to hide from the police in this strange place and sleep hidden away wherever they could find. Eventually, after long cold nights and through many difficult situations they arrived at the place her father had spoken of. Araz had told them about Calais. It was the last place before the sea to England; his friend had arrived two months ago and told him all about it. They were so pleased to arrive here but knew it was going to be very difficult to cross the sea this time. The police were always there, in their blue vans with their staring eyes. Some people came that gave them a tent and some food. It was so cold at night that Sharia couldn’t sleep much. One day a lady came to their tent and told them that they could sleep somewhere else. Araz and his family were allowed to sleep in a big gymnasium with 150 other people. It was crowded but warmer than their tent and Sharia could finally sleep soundly – the first time in many months. She sometimes asked her dad how long before they could go to England, but he always looked so sad and shook his head.

*

Poppy had been at the same school now for almost a year. Eli was her best friend but she had made lots of other new friends and had got really good at reading and writing. She’d also grown much taller. Her lovely black and pink coat didn’t fit her anymore and her mum had got her a smart green coat which used to belong to her cousin. Poppy loved her coat, she’d explored so many new places with it, so she wanted to make sure that it would go to someone that would really need it. Her dad had an idea. “Why don’t we send it to Calais?”
“What’s Calais?” Poppy asked.
“Calais is a place in Northern France, just across the sea. There are lots of refugees there who want to come to England but aren’t allowed. They came to Europe to get away from danger in their own countries.” Charlie explained.
“Why aren’t they allowed here?” said Poppy, confused.
“I don’t know Poppy. The government says they can’t come here. I think there will be a little girl in Calais who would love your special coat.”
Poppy agreed, so they put the coat in a box along with other clothes collected from friends and neighbours, and gave them to a lady who was going to France.

*

Sharia looked up as her dad came across the big hall of the gym. He was carrying a new t shirt and some cereal bars. This could only mean one thing: there must be a distribution outside! She rushed out with the other children to see what the aid workers had brought. All the children were pushing to be first but Sharia stayed with her mother in the line. When it was her turn, the lady at the back of the van held up a black coat. It had a hood and was pink inside. She turned round to put her arms in it and it fitted perfectly. She smiled at the lady and said “Thank you”. Everyone said how smart she looked and the other aid workers asked if they could have a picture together. As they were getting ready for the picture, Sharia put her hand in the zippy pocket of her new coat. She pulled out two little cards which were covered with writing and pictures. She carefully put them back and zipped up the pocket. She wanted to keep them to look at later. Sharia was so pleased with her warm, cosy new coat.

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The power of language: 4 things you can do.

Calais: Tanya's Story

Imagine walking a mile in these shoes.

Poppy's coat: refugees in calais

Hannah the traveller

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