Editor’s Note: My friend Marcy Franck has returned home, but she has more stories about her experience volunteering with Syrian refugees on Chios, Greece. You can read her prior posts on Planet Waves here. Any donations made at her YouCaring page will continue to go directly to aid. — Amanda P.

By Marcy Franck

Part 1 of 4

Everyone lives in the camps, whether you are elderly, pregnant, seven days old, or have a broken leg. You live in your tent or, if you are lucky, a “container,” which is a portable plastic room with a small window and a door.

Entrance to the Hospital Hotel on Chios, Greece; photo by Marcy Franck.

But the UN attempts to help some of the most vulnerable people — those who are very sick and would absolutely not do well in the camp environment. For a select few of these people, there is the Hospital Hotel. Inside you’ll meet the kindest people in the world with stories that will shatter you. They are “survivors” in a way that my American self absolutely can’t relate to. They all have extensive medical needs, which is how the hotel got its nickname.

It’s a neat building in the center of town, walking distance from the other two camps, with rooms arranged around a central staircase.

Maja, a Swedish volunteer, took me to visit on my second day. She had made friends with one of the residents and, while she was visiting, got to know a handful of others who told her what they needed for supplies. Maja took me with her to deliver their requested items, which she had purchased with her own savings and packed into separate kitchen-sized garbage bags labeled by room number.

News spreads quickly in a small community, and after knocking on a couple of doors to deliver bags, more people came out to see what was going on.

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Editor’s Note: My friend Marcy Franck has returned home, but she has more stories about her experience volunteering with Syrian refugees on Chios, Greece. You can read her prior posts on Planet Waves here. Any donations made at her YouCaring page will continue to go directly to aid. — Amanda P.

By Marcy Franck

“A 7-year old boy just broke his leg. He lives in one of the tents, and he is too big for his parents to carry,” said Gabby. “What do you think about buying him a stroller?”

“She takes off with her baby brother straight into a game of soccer.” Photo by Marcy Franck.

Gabrielle Tan and I had just finished a long meeting to discuss where I should direct the very generous donations I’ve received from nearly 50 caring people who want to help refugees. Gabby is the founder of the Women’s Center on Chios, and she has made it her mission to identify and help the most vulnerable people on the island.

In reality, all camp residents are vulnerable. They are running from extreme violence, have lost family to war and terrorists, and have waited for months to learn whether the European Union will grant them asylum or send them back to Turkey—which sentences them to homelessness, hunger, and little hope for a safe and comfortable future.

That said, even among displaced people, there is a hierarchy of misery. You are classified as “vulnerable” if you are a survivor of ship wreck or sexual violence, a single parent, pregnant, disabled, over age 65, or a child traveling alone. The youngest on Chios is 11 years old.

“Yes, that’s a great idea,” I tell Gabby about the stroller. “I can go buy one right now.”

I start putting on my shoes.

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Editor’s Note: This is the last installment from my friend Marcy Franck while on the island of Chios, Greece, volunteering to help Syrian refugees (though she says she has more posts coming); Marcy returns home today. You can read her other posts here and here, plus here and here on Planet Waves. Any donations made at her YouCaring page go directly to aid. — Amanda P.

By Marcy Franck

I had seen the boy only twice before, but he ran to me and hugged like we were old friends. Long past the time when I might have otherwise let go, he held on. Eventually, I realized then that we weren’t really hugging. I was holding him, and he did not want me to stop. So I didn’t.

Marcy Franck shows three refugee brothers (two visible) how to play Spot-It. Photo courtesy of Marcy Franck.

His older brother saw us, then ran down the sloped pavement with their toddler brother in a stroller. He’d gather some speed, then hop on and enjoy the ride.

He skidded to a stop in front of us and smiled.

We high-five’d.

He ran back up the hill to take another ride, likely for the 15th time that evening. There is not much else to do.

Sofia, a fellow volunteer with a deep maternal instinct, noticed a hole in the shorts of the boy I was holding, right near his knee. She asked him about it, and he lifted up the leg of his shorts to reveal a deep wound the size of a half dollar. It was fresh and not yet scabbed over, completely exposed to the elements, and too big for the small Band-Aids I had in my bag.

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Editor’s Note: Here’s the Aug. 2 installment from my friend Marcy Franck, who is on the island of Chios, Greece, volunteering to help Syrian refugees. You can read her first three posts here and here, plus here on Planet Waves. Any donations made here go directly to aid. — Amanda P.

By Marcy Franck

One of the most vulnerable populations in this whole crisis is unaccompanied minors. They are exactly what they sound like — children traveling alone. There are several on Chios, all between the ages of 11 – 17.

Unaccompanied Syrian minors on Chios, Greece, after their haircuts (plus a volunteer in tie-dye); hearts cover their faces for their protection. Photo by Marcy Franck.

Eleven. I can’t even.

Everywhere there are unaccompanied minors there are also people waiting to prey on them. Traffickers who will lure them into sexual slavery or — and I wish this were a big old “false” on snopes — taken for their organs.

On Chios they are looked after by a special group who keeps them safe. They coordinate with other groups on the island who can also provide activities and services for them. Last week, for example, they went on a field trip to a museum, then out to lunch.

This week, my dear donors, you funded a field trip for haircuts and lunch at a restaurant, as well as the transportation to each location. Chios Eastern Shore Response Team — CESRT organized the event, which took place at their fantastic warehouse. Toula, their tireless organizer, provided ice cream while they were waiting for their turn in the chair.

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Editor’s Note: Here’s the July 31 installment from my friend Marcy Franck, who is on the island of Chios, Greece, volunteering to help Syrian refugees. You can read her first two posts here and here on Planet Waves. Any donations made here go directly to aid. — Amanda P.

By Marcy Franck

Thanks to three devoted grassroots organizations on Chios, food is delicious, nutritious, and adequately available for two of the three refugee camps on this Greek island. I’ve asked camp residents if they like the food, and for the most part they are happy with it and feel adequately sated most of the time.

“This child was also thirsty, so I gave them a bottle of water. Thank you, donors, for helping so many wonderful families who are enduring the most difficult days of their lives.” Photo by Marcy Franck

This is a radical departure from the third camp called Vial. It is a government-run atrocity that defies humanity.

Ahem.

What I meant to say in neutral language is that it doesn’t focus on the comfort, health, or safety of its residents. Other than that, it’s totally fine.

Nutrition at Vial has been a problem since March 20, when the EU-Turkey deal went into effect. Before this time, the grassroots kitchens served meals at Vial every day. But when the government took over, the kitchens would arrive to distribute food but be turned away. Hungry people—pregnant women, children, sick, and elderly included—would watch the truck full of food meant for them drive off into the distance.

It’s not that the government isn’t providing food—they are. I was thrilled when I first heard that they would provide “catering” for the camp residents. I imagined canapé sandwiches with watercress served with a refreshing iced tea. Because clearly the Greek government, with the support of the European Union, would provide adequate funding to feed people in their care. Right?

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Editor’s Note: My dear friend from high school, Marcy Franck, is currently in Greece bringing supplies and a heartful of human caring to Syrian refugees in Greece. Her trip was originally supposed to include a stop in Turkey, until the failed coup and its fallout. She wrote in her first post about the trip, “I fear that being surrounded by people whose needs surpass what I can give will damage my already broken heart beyond repair. But I’ll remind myself I’m here to stand beside them in a world that seems otherwise unwelcoming. If they are strong enough to live though this, I am strong enough to stand with them for a little while.” Any donations made here go directly to aid. — Amanda P.

By Marcy Franck

A 10-year old girl was having tooth pain and couldn’t sleep. That’s all I knew.

Marcy Franck, newly arrived in Chios, Greece on July 24. Photo by Marcy Franck.

So I went with Sofia and Carlos, Portuguese volunteers, to Dipethe camp to find this girl, meet her family, and arrange to take her to the dentist on Friday.

Dipethe is a small camp located in and around an abandoned municipal theater, where about 500 people live in tents both inside the open-air building and around its perimeter.

Walking into the building felt a lot like walking through a front door and straight into someone’s living room. It’s as cozy and colorful as you could hope to make it, with a narrow strip of bare floor down the middle and squishy padding under soft blankets along the sides. Families have pitched their tents and carved little homesteads in every available space, while those with access to outlets have plugged in fans.

We were able to find our girl easily, and though we arrived unannounced as perfect strangers, she and her father welcomed us with smiling faces and warm handshakes. We told them we were there to talk about the dentist, and they invited us in to sit down.

She has four young brothers, and I gave them each two stickers. When we got settled, the eight year old put one of his stickers on my shirt, then insisted I take some of his snack. In return I gave a few more stickers to save for later. And by “later” I mean roughly 30 seconds, when he plastered them all over his 2-year old brother’s butt while he was napping.

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Editor’s Note: My dear friend from high school, Marcy Franck, is currently in Greece bringing supplies and a heartful of human caring to Syrian refugees in Greece. Her trip was originally supposed to include a stop in Turkey, until the failed coup and its fallout. She wrote in her first post about the trip, “I fear that being surrounded by people whose needs surpass what I can give will damage my already broken heart beyond repair. But I’ll remind myself I’m here to stand beside them in a world that seems otherwise unwelcoming. If they are strong enough to live though this, I am strong enough to stand with them for a little while.” Below are her second and third blog posts, combined. — Amanda P.

First Day at Refugee Camp: Friendship Bracelets

By Marcy Franck

Kids flung/swung/twirled: 25
Percentage of body sunburned: 33
Liters of water drunk: 4.5
Favorite greek songs sung with local cafe owner: 1
Friendship bracelets attempted: 12
Friendship bracelets finished: 1/2

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