Lesbos 2019 vs. 2020 — Portraits for People
By: Aileen Van Leeuwen
Tags: Refugees, Storytelling, Human Rights, Travel, Photography

On my first day in the new camp, I was pleasantly surprised to see that everyone had a roof over their head — as most people were still camping on the streets a couple of days earlier. However, it soon became apparent that the camp was not prepared for Lesbos’ extreme weather conditions. On hot days, the terrain turned into a desert that covered everything with a layer of dust. There are about five trees on the stretched land, so almost all tents are in the bare, ruthless sun. After a few weeks, autumn slowly made its entrance with heavy rainfall. Tents flooded and people had to be evacuated.

Additionally, the camp was built alongside the Mediterranean Sea, with some tents only twenty metres away from the water and strong ocean winds driving straight into them. The construction of showers saw an extreme delay, so people could only clean themselves in the sea. This included small children who couldn’t swim and were traumatised by their boat journey. One time, a colleague found a girl who had just rescued her baby sister from the sea. While some showers were installed at the end of October, there is an urgent need for showers with hot water and lighting to increase the security.

Unlike the former camp, where tents and families were placed in a random order, criss-cross against the slopes of the olive grove, the new camp consists of uniform, white emergency tents set up in a relatively orderly way. The camp management divided the main ethnicities into different zones to minimise tensions. Big families have a tent for themselves, smaller families share a tent with only a thin ‘wall’ in the middle. Beside these family tents, there are the so-called rubhalls for single men. It sounds as awful as it is. These are big, damp, sweaty tent halls with each 150 men allocated to it. The men are completely deprived of any privacy, as each tent has three rows of bunkbeds pushed to each other. This basically means that these men are sharing their beds with strangers.

While the rubhalls can raise mental and cultural objections, it is also not responsible from a health point of view — since just a few weeks ago the first Covid-19 cases were detected. The authorities did make an effort to test everyone upon arrival in the camp and the people who had positive results were requested to stay in a quarantine area. After this initial check people could be tested again if they signalled that they had some symptoms. Nonetheless, it wasn’t exactly clear to me how the quarantine area worked, as some areas seemed abandoned, without facilities and with people easily walking in and out.

Not only the quarantine areas are without facilities. The camp has inadequate shelter, no sewage or drainage system, no clean toilets, hardly any running or hot water, continuous power cuts, limited healthcare services and impediments to legal aid. Food is only provided once or twice a day, is insufficient and of poor quality. Only 1,000 people could leave the camp at the time, so there were long lines at the entrance with people waiting for someone to return so they could go out next. On Sundays, the entire camp was closed and no one was allowed to leave. Following a general lockdown imposed on 7 November, it has become even harder for people to exit the camp. According to current measures, they can only leave on substantial grounds for a couple of hours a week.

NGOs and testimonies from the camps have stated that the current conditions are even worse than in the burnt Moria camp. We found some letters from people in the camp voicing their worries and daily horrors. While the Greek government planned to relocate all residents by Easter, NGOs have urged the authorities to speed up this process as they are concerned about worsening conditions in winter.

The priority of my emergency team was to distribute a sleeping bag and thermo mat to every person in the camp. Many people had received some blankets or mats upon arrival, but with winter approaching and a lack of proper flooring in the tents, this wasn’t enough for the people to keep themselves warm. When I went to the burnt camp a month after the fire, I still saw people roaming the sea of melted plastic, burnt wood and deformed metal in search for pallets to put under their tent for isolation and to prevent flooding. NGOs all have their own tasks in the camp and coordinate their priorities. So while other organisations were in charge of the pallet distribution, BWC focused on sleeping bags and thermo mats to keep people warm.

During my first days on the island, we prepared the packages for the distribution. Afterwards, we went to each tent to inform the people about the upcoming distribution. The main aim was to reassure them that there would be enough for everyone and that we would bring the package to their tent. I really enjoyed this moment of contact. I was covering tents in the Afghan zone, and a boy joined me to help translate my information to Farsi. It was good to look people in the eye and reassure them that they would not be forgotten. Their gratefulness and honest smile, while living in these incredibly hard circumstances, confirmed once again their unrelenting resilience.

During the distribution, BWC’s coordinators paired international volunteers with resident volunteers from the camp. We loaded a big truck with packages at the warehouse and parked this close to the camp. Every team had a small, packed van that followed us to the tents. The distribution went smoothly, everyone stayed at their tents and no one came up to us to cause trouble. After 1,5 days and about 6 truck loads, we managed to give all the camp residents a thermo mat and sleeping bag. It was the first camp-wide distribution that didn’t require people to stand in line. To me, this method seems more dignified, since people don’t have to wait endlessly or stand in the hot sun all day. It is a way to make people feel seen and prevent unnecessary tensions. The resident volunteers were a great help and could answer questions from the people in their own language. This prevented miscommunication, confusion and frustration.

It felt great to contribute to this team effort. I saw the effect of the distribution already on the second day, when I asked one of our resident volunteers how he had slept. He replied that he had a good night as he was finally warm with the new mat and sleeping bag. At the same time, I also realised that this was just one of the many things people need. After this distribution, we immediately started preparing next distributions. From packages for pregnant women to school bags for children, winter jackets, cleaning gear, soap, lights, sanitary pads, etc.

As part of the emergency team, my work with BWC lasted for two weeks. By the end of that time, I had gotten to know so many people and organisations that I could easily get access to families for Portraits for People. I stayed one more week on Lesbos, where I spent most of my time at a third refugee camp called Pikpa. Together with the organisation Mikros Dounias, which runs a kindergarten at the camp, we managed to create beautiful memories for the children and their parents. I also took school pictures for students at Tolou’s English school and made photos for the soccer team of Yoga and Sports for Refugees. Afterwards, I went for another week to Athens, where I met more special families who were delighted to get a printed portrait. It was a valuable opportunity to work with BWC and turn my frustration into action and, at the same time, create a good starting point for the third location of my project!