A little over an hour ago, a group of Racers were dropped off at our hotel after working the 4PM-12AM shift. The 30 minute winding drive from the transition site back to our doorstep was lively; possibly fueled by energy biscuits and a nutella-like spread. It was a relatively smooth night at the transition site. A time for restocking the clothing tent and assembling a new structure. Numbers were low and everyone was let in.
Numbers were low.
My job tonight was to be a floater, scooting around to fill whatever need that was unmet. I helped assemble a hard-sided tent structure. I carried in boxes and bags of clothing in from the storage container on site. I stood at the front gate and helped direct new arrivals to the spot of bus tickets. I walked around the tent and handed out cups of hot tea. Tonight was different.
Numbers were low.
The previous two nights at the transition site have been intense. Working at the clothing tent made for a very clear lesson in economics. The demand for clothes was high but the supply was low. Very low. I had to say no and turn away so many cold hands and feet. Talk about heart wrenching. I also helped hand out hot tea and fruit on those nights. That job required a lightness of foot and an agility to dance around and through mounds of sleeping people inside the tent, outside the tent and outside of the transition site. The numbers were so high.
Tonight was different. The site was quiet. Handing out tea was an easy task. I only found people inside the tent and walking around to meet outstretched hands wasn’t too difficult. There was a regular stream of new arrivals but there was no need for people to wait outside in a line before coming in to get their bus tickets. It was a manageable night.
If you looked at the conditions of the day, this doesn’t really make sense. There was not a cloud in the sky. It was a little chilly, but overall, a beautiful day. Traffickers/smugglers thrive off of beautiful days. The boats should have been coming in by the bunches and the number of people walking through our site should have been in the hundreds.
The reality is the conditions of the day were “perfect” and several boats left the shores of Turkey bound for our little island.
On the drive to the site, there’s a good stretch where you can see a large expanse of the sea and you can spot rafts heading our way. This afternoon on the ride in I counted a few boats but what I also observed were all the white caps spread across the sea. The water was so choppy and I could see it from a long distance away.
Numbers were low tonight and the number of boats that capsized was high. Throughout the quiet night at the transition site, I periodically heard reports of the number of boats that were turned over and the estimated number of people who were in the sea.
Hundreds of people went overboard today but the number of boats that were available to help pull people out of the water were few. Many people spent a lot of time in the water and the reality is that many people lost their lives tonight. Numbers are not just numbers, they are people. They were the people I should have greeted with a friendly “Salaam” and guided them to get their bus tickets. They were people that I should have handed a hot cup of tea.
There are many realities about working with the refugees that I’m still trying to wrap my mind around and tonight’s experience is going to fall into that category. Sometimes we get to offer someone a blanket and sometimes all we get to do is pray for the families who’ve lost a love one.
