A Different Kind of Camp
Three weeks ago, if you said the word “camp”, the first image that would pop into my mind would be one of happiness. One marked by blue skies, cozy cabins shared with your best friends, tipping the canoe over when the lifeguard isn’t watching, early mornings by the lake with your Bible, and late night campfires surrounded by friends singing songs and clapping marshmallow-clad fingers. That, to me, was the essence of a camp; care-free childhood joy, the freedom of summer, and the presence of Christ where the worst that could happen is getting stung by a bee while playing barefoot soccer.
That was before Moria.
How can the same word mean two entirely different things?
To be clear, I knew Moria was no summer camp. However, it wasn’t until the moment I saw barbed wire fences decked across solemn concrete walls, that a sudden heaviness fell upon me. And, I knew well within my heart that this was a dark and hopeless place. A place that needed Jesus. A great need and a great responsibility.
Instead of luscious green fields and lakes, there were gravel roads and dust. Instead of cozy cabins, there were ISO boxes (donated housing units). Instead of tall trees lining property, there was barbed wire guarding boundaries. This was not a happy place. The only similarity was barefoot soccer!
We started our day walking towards Euro Relief’s Info tent to begin orientation and passed by prison-like fences filled with people of varying ethnicities clinging and reaching out their arms. These were people who had risked everything— their homes, their possessions, their very lives; all for the hope of new life, safety, and freedom. This was much closer to a prison than any camp I had ever known.
The refugees, also known as POCs (Persons of Concern), in the camp have been there for months, many for over a year. Their hope of finding a new home becomes dimmer and dimmer by the day. In camp, housing is already full with over 2300 residents currently in a space of fewer than 10 acres. The majority of the EU countries have shut their borders. And yet, just last week an additional 140 POCs washed up on Lesvos’ north shore. Many of which will end up facing deportation in the near future.
Before arriving, I knew that the refugee crisis was complex. Just how complex though, I truly had no idea. I will try to share what I learn about the issues, but understandably my knowledge is limited. Something to remember is that each refugee is a person. A unique person with a unique story. From what I do know, the civil war in Syria triggered an outpouring of refugees greater than anything since the World Wars. The refugees in the camp, however, are not from Syria alone, rather from nations in turmoil from around the world. Over 40 nationalities are currently represented in the camp. The majority are refugees fleeing for their lives, but there are also some who are simply searching for a better life and took advantage of what appeared to be an easy opportunity to enter Europe. Much to their disappointment, they have a high chance of being sent home.
As the camp is located within a military base and prison, rules are very strict. This includes; no photographs of any kind, so I’ll do my best to give you a picture using words. Additionally, no religious organizations are allowed. We are partnering with a non-religious NGO called Euro Relief in order to enter the camp. However, every Euro Relief volunteer happens to be a Christian, and this is clearly seen by the POCs. We cannot ‘evangelize’ or distribute Bibles (and if we do we risk the entire organization being kicked out of the camp). This can be frustrating but I am confident nothing can limit God. So is a saying in Euro Relief: “Work is our witness and love is our Gospel.”
From clothing and food distribution to cleaning, housing, security, and recreation, Euro Relief in many ways runs the entire camp. The police and military are always present but their purpose is mainly for taking action in emergencies and riots while volunteers are evacuated. This was the case during our first shift. After our team was orientated, we split up to complete different roles. The guys got the lovely job of cleaning men’s squatty potties (which due to a shortage of male volunteers, hadn’t been cleaned in a very long time). Meanwhile, I served with a YWAM Kona team to help with food distribution followed by cleaning the Euro Relief offices. While myself and a girl from the Kona team were cleaning, we spotted a line of police in full riot gear. We went to the Euro Relief office to find out what was going on. The camp is full of people from many countries, including countries that are at war with one another. Small issues can escalate very quickly and very extremely. Tension in the camp on this particular day was quite high. What happened? A riot broke out. We were soon ordered to grab all of our belongings, including Euro Relief’s necessary valuables, and lock down the office. Then all of us girls were directed to evacuate the camp. We followed a guy from the Kona team through a small side trail between the fence and prison out of the camp and down the road to a meeting place in the forest. Even though it was easy to be afraid of this situation knowing little about what was actually taking place, we all had peace. A peace that is not found in this world, but given freely from our Savior. Even though we didn’t know what was going on, He did. Even though we didn’t have any control over the situation, He did. And we could walk boldly in the confidence of his love for us and his love for every single refugee within that camp. Our prayers and songs filled the dark night and they soon got louder as we were joined by more and more of our teammates. No one was hurt that night, both volunteers and refugees. The entire situation was handled professionally and efficiently. We soon headed home while the disagreement within the camp was settled. Working in a refugee camp is not safe, but it is good.
As a Christian, I find it easy to slip into the “summer camp” life. The places where Christ is easily praised and the sun is always shining. The places where smiling is simple and pain is no more than a bee sting. Now I am not saying these places of life are bad in of themselves. God loves blessing us and showering us in joy abundant! But these places do pose a problem when they make us forget that we live in such a broken world. They are a problem when we get too comfortable; when in our pursuit of this happiness we become blind to those who are hopeless and hurting. Even though Jesus is evidently present in life’s “summer camps”, he is just as present in the refugee camps. He loves his kids unendingly no matter where they are or what they’re going through. I desire a heart like Christ’s, loving the least of these no matter how hard. Jesus wasn’t called to live a comfortable life and neither are we, even in the places where suffering is all too present and smiles take a lot more work. We are called to know him both in the power of his resurrection and in the fellowship of his sufferings.
“That I may know Him and the power of His resurrection, and the fellowship of His sufferings, being conformed to His death.”
Philippians 3:10
I now have a new definition of camp. Not always happy, but always a place where God’s work can be done.
Melinda
