It’s time to explain my time near the border of Macedonia…but I absolutely can not. Instead of me making an entire novel…here is what I saw in chronological order.

 -Drew Craig, in the flesh. an Iowa law grad, giving his time and money and so much effort to lighthouse relief (you’ll learn more later in the daily Iowan)

 -volunteers who had quit their journalism and desk jobs to become volunteers for months at a time. No laundry, no free time, really just working. 

 -a hospital with no Arabic translators for the refugees. We took our translators Lee and Vladimir to tell the Syrians what to take, when to take it, that they had neurological damage, that their sons arm was broken, that this baby was in need of serious medical attention. 

 -a camp at an abandoned gas station with 2,000 people called Eko (the name of the gas station). Kids chopping firewood, everyone running after trucks to see what they were bringing and hoping it was baby milk, diapers, clothes, food. 

 -an even bigger camp which was governed by the military. Refugees with no shower for a month, mothers putting MILK IN PLASTIC BOTTLES TO HEAT OVER THE FIRE AND GIVE TO THEIR BABIES WHOS BODIES WOULD REJECT IT. READ THAT SENTENCE AGAIN. on top of this were families sleeping on soaked floors, tents filled with shit. Actual shit. No trash pickup, & so there was trash for 100s of feet. And guards who wouldn’t let us go talk to the refugees because they were afraid of what they would say. They did have means to that fear. The refugees were furious.

 -an even BIGGER camp filled with tens of thousands at Eidomini next to the border. 

When you look at pictures of concentration camps, this is what comes to mind. I’m serious…that is the ONLY thing I can think of to relate these conditions to. See….this is just a few things. 

 Now I will explain my process of emotions…which is a mess right now. Tomorrow morning is my flight to Santorini. I am caught in-between enjoying life and realizing all the hardships of others. Here I am not happy. I am somber, but I’m making a difference. Or am I? Things are hard to understand and volunteering and awareness is so much more complicated than I had anticipated. Are we making a difference? Are we enabling the government to keep the border up by enhancing camp conditions? Are we supposed to help each other in humanity because it seems to cause so much more pain for volunteers and you can never actually relieve the pain of the refugees.

Everyone is hurting. I had a friend tell me, “I have no hope for humanity. How could I?” She has been volunteering for two months here. I’m trying to write what I feel down so maybe I can come to a magical conclusion about what I should do or should feel but I can’t. Maybe have too much empathy for others and that clouds the way I act and think Or maybe I’m selfish, maybe I just want the story and don’t like having to “feel” because it’s hard. It’s so hard.

Maybe I am brave for this maybe I am strong. I have no clue. I will leave you with this: I am glad I did this. I’m glad I’m uncomfortable. I’m glad I’m questioning if I am good or if I am bad. It was necessary for me. I don’t believe this is necessary for all. 

There’s nothing wrong with living in a bubble if you want a happy life. There really isn’t. This is not happy, I am not happy right now. I chose to be aware. I chose not to be oblivious. It’s harder then you think.