A Few Personal Accounts

To me, the most memorable and significant part of the weekend was going into the camp at various times on Saturday, both to distribute food and to help construct the shelter. Seeing the situation and meeting the people there gave me a greater love for those people. I loved that so many came to help build the shelter in the afternoon. We arrived and started working and the first person to show up was the man who would be getting the shelter. He jumped right in without hesitation. Many others arrived and pitched in. When we were finished, it was amazing to see their appreciation for the help we offered. At one point while we were building, I was invited over to warm my hands over a fire. While talking with the young men there, they commented that I would be going to a warm home, but they were going to still be in the cold. One of them immediately commented though to the other than what we were doing for them was much needed. And later another man said that the shelter he had was warm. It is difficult to be limited in the ways we can help, but I have no doubt that the refugees are grateful for the things we do and you could see it in the face of Asad (I believe that's how you spell his name, correct me if I'm wrong!!) as we left him there with his newly constructed shelter. We only spent a few hours there with them, but I truly feel like they are my friends and I wish them the best of luck in the future!

-       Tiffany Michelle Rae

As the day passed by cold winds brought a bitting chill to the air. Our team had faced various challenges throughout the construction of the shelter, with uneven ground formed of rubble, litter and mud; and a lack of appropriate equipment. However pressing forward the team attempted to get the shelter up as quickly and efficiently as possible before the evening was upon us. A young man desperately trying to keep warm wrapped up in his duvet came to sit behind the van to take shelter from the wind. He relayed the story of his perilous journey from Iran to Calais to one of our team mates Reg. Mostly on foot this young man travelled half way across the world to escape oppression and persecution in his own country. Hitching rides, begging for food and hiding in vans this young man travelled for 18 months seeking a better life than the one he had previously known. Now he sits, hungry, cold and of poor health in an overcrowded camp in Calais clinging on to the little hope he has, that one day he might not hunger, that one day he might not thirst, that one day he might live rather than survive. What a powerful story he has. No doubt similar to many of the people sharing these miserable conditions in Calais. Meeting these people and hearing their stories has been truly life changing. Leaving them however, upon completion of the shelter, is entirely heart wrenching. 

- Danielle Vernes

The Back Of A Small Van

Crammed in the back of a small van, perched awkwardly amongst bags and bags of donated food, we wait. The road surface changes and we lurch side to side, aware that we are now in the ‘’Jungle’’. A feeling of trepidation pervades. This is our first trip to Calais to distribute aid. Despite other volunteers’ stories, we have popular media images and clichés running through our minds. Most volunteer are young students, hoping to change the world, or at least give one hungry person the chance for one meal, for one day. We want to help; to bring hope. The doors open. A makeshift stone covered “road” opens out into a space surrounded by plastic covered “huts” or tents. There are no desperate crowds thronging the van. There is no fevered pawing at us. No emotional pleas. Instead, an orderly que quickly forms. Quiet, humbled people file forward to accept a supermarket carrier bag of foreign food to them. Some smile and some practise their few words of English. Most exclude a grim determination to survive, to keep intact their dignity. A few months ago perhaps, If we had been strangers in their country we would have been greeted with their legendary eastern hospitality, made to talk over endless tea, shared their meals. We try to smile. They try to smile. The last bag is passed out. “finished”. One English word that is definitely understood. Resigned, weary, they slide away empty handed, absorbed by the sea of rough dwellings. The space is easily empty again - as if we had never been there. There is a feeling of anti-climax as we pile back into the van, desperately hoping that our tiny contribution has meant something. Eager to do it again. And again.

It is hard to make sense of coming back. Hours earlier we had been surrounded by some of the most desperately poor and grimly determined people currently on the planet. “Displaced”, ”migrants”, ”refugees’ - words used to describe these people are not adequate. Clichés tumble through my mind as I try to make any kind of sense of it all. There is no precedent in my experience; only historical images and faded and 2^nd hand accounts of oppression begin to suffice. Can this be the same world I live in? A few kilometres out of the camp, in the centre of Calais we are in a typical out of season seaside town. It is empty, wet, bleak but familiar. A few locals and tourists brave the high winds and constant rain to venture into the town square where a handful of pubs and restaurants totter through the winter season. Was it like this in the town next to Sobibor? Treblinka? Did people have to shut down their conscience in order to survive that knowledge? The knowledge that in your town, your backyard, other people - people just like you - were surviving. Not living, barely existing but consciously surviving. Hanging onto whatever tiny thread of dignity and endurance they could muster? Yes, we still have to eat, sleep, to work. But somewhere in the back of our minds is the awareness that but for the unearned good fortune of being born here, we would be in their ill fitting, donated, leaking, shoes.

- Account written by Alison Hunt 

November Trip to Calais

In November a team of us returned to calais with a Luton van full of donations collected from the great British public, the ever supportive Bruderhof Community, Canterbury Mosque, Canterbury Christ Church University, University of Kent Amnesty society and not forgetting those faithful members from the wards. We also took a minibus of volunteers who came from various parts of Kent. The enthusiasm and generosity of those involved was truly inspirational.

The Beginning of Our Service.

In June the Canterbury Stake Relief Society sisters rallied together to respond to the Charity appeal ‘Keep a Child warm’ from Operation Orphan.  A collection of hand knitted blankets, warm clothing and boots filled the Canterbury Cultural Hall. These were dispatched to Moldova and Ukraine.

A month later we felt a sense of urgency to provide aid for our Brother and Sisters seeking refuge throughout Europe.  There was no clue at the start of this journey that there would be such emotion involved. Ordinarily, a bunch of enthusiastic volunteers determined to help collect donations for a worthy cause stays within its original remit, but what began as a request for the church to get involved by the Canterbury Stake Relief Society presidency turned into something much, much more.

In early September, an appeal went out, asking members and the public to get involved and to donate clothes and goods. The response was overwhelming! Far from being a Stake response, the appeal drew donations from far and wide, with other religious groups doing their bit with donations, prayers and practical help. The Canterbury mosque was one of the religious groups that put an enormous amount of effort into helping, with help and support in the form of specially dedicated prayers for the drive. Other church groups asked us to take their donations and provided assistance in sorting and boxing items ready for dispatch. The Canterbury Stake Primary children played their part by putting together hygiene kits for their Faith In God activity, helping to engender a desire to help amongst our future leaders of the Church. We knew that the Lord was listening to our prayers when, after being informed that one of the vans was overladen and we dragged our weary bodies back to re-distribute the weight, we were met by missionaries with cheery dispositions who made light work of the task.  With a team of members, we drove to Slough, where the items were gratefully received by Calaid and then distributed to port Piraeus in Greece

Feeling as though our work was not yet done, we made arrangements to visit the infamous ‘Jungle’ in Calais, to offer help and to become better acquainted with what the immediate needs were for our fellow man.

Canterbury Stake Relief Society Presidency -
Naomi Potter and Marisa Rickard

President Rickard wearing an old Temple Square mission sweater, the slogan has great resonance.