“No, no, no” he said as he turned my hand the other way. Repeating my gesture, he then flipped me the bird.
This last week, my squad spread out across Greece to multiple different locations in order to assist in the refugee crisis. Some went to the island of Lesbos to help new arrivals while others went into Macedonia to help those on the border. My team is stationed in Thessaloniki…..you may recognize the name from the book “Thessalonians”. Every morning we drive to the border between Greece and Macedonia to help.
Over the last few days we have helped serve food, passed out clothing, unloaded relief supplies from a semi, and delivered supplies to refugees personally.
It’s hard. It’s hard because there is no solution. People are suffering and dying and the best anyone can do is poorly manage the situation. Even our relief efforts, although appreciated, cause frustration because they want to resume their lives, not receive handouts. As tensions rise, we are able to do nothing.
As we drove home yesterday, I prayed to God asking how we can help them. “God, this situation is so big and so complex, our aid isn’t really helping, and I don’t have any of the needed skills, what can I do to help them?”
“Love them, you can love them.”
Remembering a group of men I had seen smoking together earlier that day, I decided that the next day I would join them. I’d purchase a pack of cigarillos and smoke with them….never mind that I can’t actually smoke them, I just hold the smoke in my mouth.
The next day was rough. Clothing donations consisted primarily of winter weather clothes and, in the hot Grecian sun, we had to load up all those donations and unload new summer-weather clothes while trying to maintain order and prevent a mob, a fairly common occurrence. I worked for a couple hours in this environment, constantly hearing the words “my friend, my friend!” The refugees speak Arabic and Farsi and other dialects while the volunteers speak Spanish, English, German, French, and other random languages and sub-dialects, so “My friend!” Became the phrase of choice by refugees trying to get our attention.
After our part of the day was through, I joined up with a teammate who told me about some men who caused so much trouble in the food service lines while protesting the closed border that they had to shut down everything and stop serving food.
I shared with him what God had laid on my heart, so we set out in search of the group of men. Not surprisingly, we didn’t find these four amongst the 15,000 people in the camp, so we did some ATL (ask the Lord) and walked wherever we felt Him lead.
Eventually we came to a group of very Arab looking men who were lounging in the shade while one smoked a hookah. I felt like this was the appropriate place, and we walked over. At first, they thought we were trying to sell them something, so they said “no money, no money”, but after I opened the pack and handed them each a cigarillo, keeping one for my teammate and myself, they welcomed us and invited us to sit.
We communicated primarily through gestures till their friends joined us. Amongst all of them, French, German, Spanish, Farsi, and English were represented, and we used a mixture of languages and gestures to carry on the most interesting conversation I have ever had.
He introduced himself and his friends as Kurds and explained that they were way over on this side of camp because they didn’t want to be part of the riots and trouble on the side that we had been serving that morning. Pointing to a large tent, he explained that he and his friends were serving food and other relief for their fellow refugees, but that they were insistent upon maintaining a “Libre, free, tranquilo” environment, aka, safe, free, and relaxed.
There were more of us than there were cigars so we passed them around until the man offered me his hookah. Smiling, I took it from him and took a breath of the sweetest, most aromatic scent I have ever inhaled. I’m sure my naivety was so deep you needed waders cause they all laughed as I held my breath, savoring the smell. Exhaling, I handed it back to him. His friend who spoke broken English, through few words and a lot of gestures, explained that there was a proper way to pass a hookah, and that in their culture, the way I just did was their equivalent of our flipping the bird. They all laughed as I imitated him demonstrating the proper way to pass it, and the man was gracious and patient with me.
All formalities now aside, we discussed the elephant in the room….rather, right across the field. He explained how they had to wait for the border to be opened because they were Kurds. The Kurds were peaceful and friendly to American forces, but the Turks were not, and that deportation from Greece to Turkey could result in their deaths. Their homes destroyed, no way forward, and no safe options behind, there they sat, waiting on politicians who didn’t understand them and world leaders who believed the stereotypes perpetuated by the Moroccans and other refugee groups. Taking a deep breath from the hookah, he exhaled and we all sat in silence as I thought to myself. These men were faced with the most awful situation I could imagine, and there was no solution. Despite this, these men were peaceful and patiently helping others in the same plight as their own. I was the one with the Bible in my pocket and yet I marveled at these men.
We are not allowed to be “missionaries” to them because if they feel like we came to proselytize them, it would cause even more tensions and destroy the legitimate help that is our excuse to be here. But we can be their friend, love them, and spend time with them, and that’s what I plan to do….because that’s all I can do.
Thats the end of my blog post, but I’d also like to take time to thank those of you who are patiently and faithfully supporting me financially and spiritually. Thanks to your financial support, I am at $13,375! That’s only $3,577 from being fully funded! Please continue supporting me financially as well as spiritually. I can and have seen God work in myself, my team, and the World in incredible ways, and it’s only month 4.
If you want to be more involved, I downloaded an app called postagram. It allows me to take a picture and send you a personalized postcard for only $1. If you want to sponsor a day, shoot me a message and I’ll take a picture of our ministry that day and send you a postcard with it! Its yours for any donation to my paypal cause I really want you to be involved with this adventure, I just ask that you donate at least $1 so I’m not put out by postage costs. Again, thanks y’all!
