That's how NOT good the post service is these days. Francisco posted my passport on Friday the 26th around midday. I found out I could track it online and I see it only arrived in France on the 2nd of July around 2pm and arrived at the "distribution centre" on Friday around 3pm.
What to do? I wait and embrace what is there on my way. I'm extremely grateful for all the provision considering the situation. I knew it was not by chance that I met the lovely volunteers as I was preparing myself to leave Taizé. There were lots of "coincidences" and common things between us. They were also going to Calais, but to volunteer in the house I'm currently staying as a guest, and they also love the Nassar family at the "Tent of Nations" project in Palestine that I mentioned in a previous post, where me and Emma will volunteer in the Autumn.
I'm so glad I got to meet these 2 young people and their other friend who was already in Calais. They have a dream to find a piece of land and live in community too, so we've been having nice chats about it and of course I invited them to come and visit us at the Mount of Oaks in Portugal. It would be really nice if they could come one day soon.
They do amazing work here. One of them was here before several times, so she knew what the work was about and what needs to be done. They arrived the same day as me, by bus, and I went to meet them at the house they would volunteer for the next 2 months. They were in a transition time as one couple with a child, who have been part of the leadership of this work for 6 years, was about to leave.
This is a very demanding and exhausting work, as you might imagine, not only the house holding tasks, which are constant with 8 kids and a baby at the moment, but that's really the easier part of the job. The harder part I imagine is all the decision making, the planning, the moderation of all the relationships within the house, between the different women and their kids, between the volunteers and staff and also having to be aware of the hard life stories each one has lived to get here. Sometimes they also need to communicate that they cannot host someone any longer, and that must be the hardest thing to do.
Most asylum seekers come here to cross to England in the hope of getting the papers required to become legal, get a job and start a new life. Before that is the unknown and the waiting for the right opportunity.
My pilgrimage from Portugal to Ireland on a bike, that so many people get impressed with saying how brave and strong I am, seems nothing compared with the bravery and strength of most of the people who come here, especially the women who come here on their own with their children.
This is something I'm also very grateful for, to get to know some of these amazing women and children. I wish I could speak Arabic to get to know them even better, but some speak a bit of English and it's already ok.
I'm not mentioning any names, both of volunteers or any of the women and children because I don't feel is appropriate and I didn't ask their permission either.
Their stories might be one among many, and my intention is to honour their stories and their effort to give their children a better chance in the future, as they see it.
One woman who is here, came all by herself from South Sudan with 5 young children. The eldest must be 12 max. This is bravery, and it's not just an adventure or a pilgrimage... I guess it was also not so well prepared or planned, as they had to escape a war. Most people who come to seek asylum had to abandon their lands because they were invaded or destroyed, others came from cities where they had their jobs, homes and families. Another woman here lost her husband and father of her only child, lost her parents and her body got injured in the war in Syria. Traditionally she had to marry the brother of her dead husband, which she didn't want, so she ran away and is hoping to go to London and start a new life. She is a secondary school teacher, very kind lady, and excellent cook. She was very proud to say that her father was a cardiologist and her mother an architect.
When I entered the yard of the house coming from the train station on Monday, I immediately got involved. The environment was so inviting and welcoming and I could see there was much on everyone's plate. The volunteer's bags were still laying on the grass at the entry and they were already playing with the kids who love the attention of adults. It was a pleasure to be able to help as I was also being invited to stay for the meals and I was going to have a place to sleep that first night as I only booked the caravan for Tuesday and Wednesday, hoping the passport would arrive in the meantime.
As you know, it didn't, and I was very kindly invited to come to the house after Thursday during the day and have the meals with everyone. I was even invited to the morning prayers with the volunteers and they follow the same kind of structure of the Taizé meetings, only shorter, which has been nice too.
I was also offered to sleep in the same house I slept in the first night which is from some staff members who are currently on holidays and need someone to feed the cat and the hamster, which is a pleasure for me too.
So, I can't really complain. I try to help as much as possible in the house as there has been a lot of cleaning and organising to do and it's always a pleasure to be able to participate somehow. It's the least I can do after all that I've been receiving.
Thursday morning, when I had to check out from the caravan I went to the post office and spoke with my broken French to the nice lady there. She also went online to track the pack and it was only showing that it was only posted on Monday the 29th. I explained that I'm not living at that address and she kept my number and gave me hers so we can keep in touch about the situation. That was so helpful and meant I didn't have to cycle back and forth to check the post. It is a lovely bike ride. It takes me 30 minutes, as it is only 9km away, pretty much flat all the way, and half of it along a canal with ducks.
On Friday I was really hoping it would arrive, but the lady text me saying it didn't come. That meant staying for the weekend. 3 more days on my journey, staying in a city, not biking and not moving.
It was part of my intentions for this trip too, as I did want to know more about the so called "migration crisis" in Europe and what does that mean in reality. I think I couldn't have been in a better place than this to find out. It is at the borders that things get more visible.
As I mentioned on my previous post, most migrant people who come to Calais want to cross to the UK because they have been rejected in Europe. Once they are rejected asylum in any country they apply to in Europe, they cannot apply in any other European country, and that's why they want to cross to UK as it is their only hope left.
This is very interesting, as one of the main reasons why the Government in the UK wanted to leave Europe was to stop migrants from coming in, but it actually increased the number of people coming or trying to get in.
Anyway, this is a complex subject and I know there are many sides and many stories we could be looking at. That's simply what I observe and what I'm learning from others. There will never be easy answers to the many questions concerning migration and each story is a story.
After knowing I would have to stay until the following Monday I decided to leave the house and explore. I did go to the main Calais beach the other day but it was too windy and very touristic for my liking.
This time I just roamed not really knowing where I would end up. I knew I was going towards the sea, even though it was not easy to reach it as I would end up in neighborhoods with no way out and dead end streets... I kept looking around for bits of woods where it would be possible to camp but I didn't find any possibility as there were either very high fences or lots or barbed wire making it impossible to cross.
I did end up biking around one of the old camps ( called "jungles" here), and a big one, that was dismantled by the police a good while ago. Often the police takes down tents and discourages any sort of camping as much as possible. Most support given to migrants comes from Non governmental Organisations, churches and other institutions or Associations who care for human rights.
One thing is to question the reason and the intention why people are coming, and that can be very different from one person to the other. The other thing, which should be more important, is to welcome and treat those who are vulnerable in a dignified way.
Of course there must be some who are taking advantage of these services that are offered, and most possibly there are some who are not so nice or grateful for all they are receiving, but still, people should be treated equally, and we should never be generalist and put all who seek asylum in one single "bag".
Going back to my wander, I did end up at the beach and it was a really nice experience. I ended up meeting quite a few seals who came quite close to me as I dipped myself in the ocean, the only "wild" thing I felt I could do here.
I felt I found some wild companions... At least in the sea there are no laws and I'm sure those seals didn't need any papers to cross from one side to the other.
I wanted to be led, and that's where I ended up. I guess that's where the Spirit has been leading me the last years, and I guess it's part of my vocation to lead others to the wild and to what is natural and nothing to do with human made systems.
As much as I feel compassion towards these people who are seeking asylum, and as much as I admire those who support them, I don't think I could ever do this kind of work. I would not be true to myself if I had to help and encourage someone to go into a system I don't believe in. Not only I don't believe in it as I don't think it's any good to anyone to live in, nevermind raising children in it.
Most people come here the same way millions of Europeans went to the USA, with a promised dream that for some becomes a nightmare. People are still chasing this dreams and illusions that are now in every screen of anyone with a phone and access to internet... The video clips, the songs, the hopes of a life that is not reality. Reality will not be nice even for those who are able to cross and receive asylum, and get the papers and the job and the social housing.
This system is shit especially for poor people and even for middle class people, never mind for those who come from different cultures speaking a different language. It's an illusion that only enslaves people. But how can we say this to someone who came all the way here, even risking their lives, with a hope that life will be bright for them in Europe or the UK?
Some who come here decide to go back, maybe after realising things will be tough. I'm glad for those, and I really hope they can find another place they can call home and feel at home, and another life, in an healthy community that is more realistic and closer to land and nature.
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