One thing has changed since then though. While I do know several people who have served, I’ve met them during civilian times, after their service. As with anyone, their history and the path they traveled on before your paths crossed, is something they carry with them, but it can be easy to separate the two because you never witnessed it. Somehow, somewhere, sometime between then and now, I met someone who is currently serving in the military and through him I’ve learned more about the military, the demands, the details (the ones that can be shared at least) that come with being in the army, which makes Veteran’s Day more personal for me this year. Things like overnight shifts, and missing holidays, and classified information (curiosity might truly be the end of me one day), and upcoming deployments. I always knew those things were real, but to actually hear about them one on one…completely different experience.
Support and Inspiration from the Sixth Grade
It has been just over a week since I left Lesvos to return back to the USA and I just got home on Monday. I took the longest route home, partially because it was cheapest and partially because I made a detour to see some friends on the east coast. Since getting back to Portland, it’s been a whirlwind few days as I tried to get my bearings, as I pack for a move to the Bay on Saturday and as I try to say hi (and bye) to as many people as I can. One of the highest items on my to do list during my 5 days in Portland was to stop by my friend, Ms. Maynard’s, sixth grade class.
I’m Glad I’m Here
Someone asked me last week, “How is your volunteer trip going?” I’ve been quiet. Not because I have nothing to say, trust me–there’s a lot that’s been happening, but more so because there hasn’t been as much time to sit and write. Or I’m simply too exhausted to. Or more often than not, there’s so much to say and share, I struggle with where to start.
Finding the Silver Lining at the Ferry Building
Saturday night. I was sitting at a bar with a fellow volunteer and new friend, Maria, having a glass of wine when we got word that hundreds of refugees were stranded outside at the port because ferries had been cancelled or rescheduled for the next morning. There was an abandoned building next to the port that they were camped out in as they waited out a pretty strong wind storm. They needed some help and supplies like blankets and food brought down, so we called a friend with a car and hitched a ride to the ferry building.
From Stab Wound to All Smiles
While the weather the past few days have been reminiscent of spring days, sunny with a chill but dry, we do have winter days where the rain doesn’t let up and the cold sets into your body. As a result, most of what we see in the clinic are colds, or what’s come to be dubbed as the Moria flu (headache, runny nose, sore throat, cough). Every once in a while we do get something different, like a broken leg, sprained ankle, toothache, pregnancy issue and even a stab wound. Yes, stab wound. That’s what happened the other day.
Day 0 and Day 1
As I was telling you last night before I drifted off into deep sleep (melatonin, you are helping me kick jetlag’s butt like no one’s business!), I had the option of taking it easy yesterday and acclimating, or checking out the camp and helping out. I wanted to do something so I opted to head to Moria camp to finally see with my own eyes the camp that I heard so much about. This black barn right here is the Moria Medical Clinic that’s run by Offtrack Health, and where I’ll be spending most of my time. I’m what they call a floor manager–I’m responsible for intake of patients, crowd control, recording notes and anything else in between. I stopped by yesterday to see the clinic, meet some people and just get the lay of the land. And to buy a local SIM card nearby.
So It Begins
All my bags are packed, (I think) I’m ready to go…Singing that song is how I woke up my roommate this morning at 4:15am to drive me to the airport. (Best roomie ever–for taking me to the airport, and not hitting me for singing.) I, myself, woke up after my second of five alarms went off at 4:05am after an hour of sleep, with the lights on, because I was terrified that I wouldn’t wake up. Anyone else have that fear or just me? Today was the day. I was starting the long journey to Lesvos to volunteer at the refugee camps.
48 Hours Until the Biggest Adventure to Date
In 48 hours, I’ll be on a plane starting the long trek towards Lesvos, Greece. I’ve booked three different round-trip(ish) tickets to get there. On Wednesday, I fly from Portland to Minneapolis to Boston as part of RT Ticket 1. I have a little over 24 hours in Boston, a city I’ve never been to, and I plan on exploring a little bit (weather pending) before my flight Thursday evening. Thursday evening is the start of RT Ticket 2, Boston to Istanbul to Thessaloniki. I get to Thessaloniki on Friday evening and then I take off Saturday afternoon with RT Ticket 3 to Mytiline. Why so many flights? Why take so long to get there? Simply put: because I’m on a budget and this made the most sense. My first RT Ticket was booked on a voucher, the second RT Ticket was a deal out of Boston to Europe and the third RT Ticket is a domestic flight within Greece (much cheaper than trying to book it all on one ticket). As for the timing, it’s the best I could do given schedules and the possible threat of bad weather forcing delays or cancellations.