Showing posts with label Anti-Racist Festival. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Anti-Racist Festival. Show all posts

Friday, July 31, 2015

Greek Crisis, Summer 2015, Part 1: An American Immigrant in Greece



The News in a (Large) Nutshell


It is both ironic and unsurprising that I have not found time to post blog entries in the two most anxiety-provoking months of Greece’s recent political and economic crisis. I have enough material for a book (including 357 pages of news clippings this month), but time is another story. I’ve spent many days nearly overwhelmed by the dizzying array of disturbing news. I’ve spent other days caught up in the daily lives of my family, my community, and my new Syrian refugee friends.

For more details about the tumultuous Greek political and economic news (and its effect on the olive oil industry), see my Olive Oil Times articles (more are linked on the right side of the page); or if you already know the Greek news, skip to the next section. Here’s the news in a nutshell: On June 27, Greek Prime Minister Alexis Tsipras broke off negotiations with creditors and announced a referendum on whether Greece should accept creditors’ terms for more loans. Then the European Central Bank (ECB) stopped providing emergency liquidity assistance to Greek banks, the banks were closed, capital controls were imposed, and the economy sank deeper into depression. A majority of voters rejected creditors’ terms on July 5, but the prime minister accepted a similar agreement with creditors in order to save Greece from a sudden, chaotic exit from the Eurozone—which most Greeks do not want to leave.

Banks were running out of money because anxious depositors had been withdrawing their savings, fearing losses in a bail-in or a change to a devalued drachma. On June 29, with banks closed, ATMs began dispensing only 60 euros per account per day; after three weeks, an equivalent weekly limit replaced the daily one. Still in effect even with banks open again, capital controls have made life difficult for anyone trying to make major purchases, pay rent or bills, or run a farm or business, deepening Greece’s depression.

After Greece edged very close to a Grexit, the Greek parliament approved one austerity agreement after another, albeit unwillingly, with the support of Euro-friendly centrist opposition parties but without the support of about a quarter of the members of parliament from Prime Minister Tsipras’s leftist party, SYRIZA. Creditors required this approval in order to begin negotiations on another loan package and other financial assistance. After the parliamentary approval, Greece received a bridge loan to allow it to catch up on debt repayments, and the ECB resumed limited emergency liquidity assistance to Greek banks. Work on a third bailout agreement is beginning as the prime minister tries to calm dissenters in his party who are opposed to the additional austerity measures it is expected to require. The future of the SYRIZA-ANEL radical leftist/right-wing nationalist governing coalition is uncertain. Another round of national elections is likely this fall.

Many agree that reforms are desperately needed in Greece, but increasing numbers admit that additional austerity measures and still more tax increases—such as the sales tax increase already passed by Parliament—are unlikely to allow the Greek economy to recover, let alone grow, in the midst of a depression. (See, for example, this excellent article on why pensions should not be be cut more than they already have been, and taxes should not have been raised more than they already were: Pensions in Greece Feel the Pinch of Debt Negotiations.) It seems clear that Greece requires some form of debt relief, since debt at 177% of the GDP is unsustainable. Yet German leaders and their allies want to wait until fall to discuss that.

Insecurity and Frustration: Responses to Uncertainty and Limitations


Even before Tsipras called for a referendum, people were nervous. For example, my mother in law said there was havoc at a bank in Piraeus on Friday morning, June 19, when the bank ran out of money and closed early, and customers shouted that their money was being stolen from them. Even then, some were unsure if banks would open the following Monday, and they naturally wanted access to their own money in these hard times—wouldn’t you?

Recent news has been more nerve wracking than at any other time during the Greek economic crisis. With the dreaded capital controls, bank closings, and default on part of the enormous Greek debt no longer a threat, but a reality, we also approached the brink of a Grexit from the Eurozone, and many claim a Grexit could still occur, although probably not this year. More and more people have been talking about a return to the drachma, but I am relieved that it was avoided, at least for now, because I believe it would lead to shortages of imported items such as fuel and—most importantly—medicines. I do not think we would ever starve in Crete, where agricultural products literally fall off the trees in my neighborhood. (I have been collecting unwanted lemons, grapes, and figs lately, and a neighbor has given me tomatoes from her garden.) But I am concerned about Athens and other areas of less abundance, and about those whose lives depend on imported medications.

It rained the last Saturday morning in June (very unusual for that time, in Crete), shortly after the prime minister announced the referendum. A Greek neighbor said a supermarket employee commented, “so the Germans have taken our sun from us, too.” Many consider the Germans’ and their allies’ hard line on austerity at least partly responsible for Greece’s continuing depression. Others blame the Greek government. I don’t understand the logic of any of them.

I was bewildered by Tsipras’s decision to hold a referendum, since that decision led the ECB to cut off liquidity assistance and hence resulted in capital controls that have cost the country a great deal in lost business. But I was even more astonished when the prime minister urged parliament to support an agreement most consider worse than the one voters rejected. Many Greeks were furious as well as disappointed that all the hardship created by the bank closures and capital controls accompanying the referendum decision was not followed by a better deal for Greece, but (according to many) a worse one—in spite of the still-delayed possibility of debt relief, which could have been discussed in any case. The political developments of recent months have been unbelievable, but the social and economic effects have been far too real.

Many people are struggling to keep going. With salaries and pensions already cut, taxes already increased, and many just getting by before all that, how are they to manage now? Between July 1 and July 24, Doctors of the World had 275 visitors to their free medical and social services clinic in Chania, mostly unemployed Greeks. The doctors and social workers there do crucial work, helping far more people than they did before the crisis, but they cannot perform surgery there or provide endless supplies of medicine, let alone jobs. Soup kitchens are super busy, charities are underfunded, and refugees have set up camp in an Athens park; too many people need help.

The cicadas are prospering; there are so many this year that they often fly into me when I walk under the trees here in semi-rural Crete. Greek people, however, have had trouble sleeping after middle-of-the-night announcements and parliamentary debates. I’ve seen dozens of people waiting in line at ATMs in Chania since the Saturday of the referendum announcement. The roads were full of traffic that Saturday, as everyone scrambled to supermarkets to stock up on necessities and formed lines at gas stations that still had gas. Clothing and cosmetic stores were largely deserted as people focused on the necessities. However, aside from a few days of limited amounts of gasoline until payments to gas suppliers could be arranged, I have seen no shortages in supermarkets or pharmacies here at all, nor have I spoken to anyone in Greece who has seen them.

On the other hand, businesspeople lacking funds to restock their stores are struggling. NPR reported recently that the Athens Chamber of Tradesmen claims 15% of businesses could close by September if capital controls continue, on top of the 250,000 already closed during the last five years, since Greece imports 70% of the non-food items sold here, and imports are at a standstill with money transfers abroad still restricted (Struggling Greek Businesses Choked By Money Controls.) Other ordinary people are also running into problems: people like the retired priest without a bank card who lives in a village where there was no bank open for three weeks to provide the pension always claimed in cash; the educated dietician who is working three jobs, including one as a store clerk, to earn 800 euros a month, believing things can’t get any worse; the dentist unsure how she’d pay for attendance, food, and lodging at a professional conference in Europe since her credit and debit cards wouldn’t work outside Greece. And these are the lucky ones who still have jobs (probably with reduced wages and benefits), not the more than 25% of Greeks (or over half of young people) who are unemployed. I’ve heard of some who get around a lack of cash by exchanging eggs from their hens or tomatoes or greens from their gardens for a cooked meal.

Many Greeks feel insecure about their future in this time of crisis. Many are tired of discussing all the problems, and the way the “solutions” offered are not working, since more and more austerity (including too many tax increases) with too little reform just doesn’t stimulate a depressed economy—or a depressed population. Yet life goes on here—especially for the children, who do not yet realize they will inherit whatever debt their parents’ generation of Europeans does not forgive.


Remember the Children of Greece

Children finishing sixth grade face a different sort of insecurity and a different kind of change, reminding their parents that insecurity and change can be a normal part of life, not only an aspect of crisis management. With my daughter saying goodbye to her elementary school this year, the end of the academic year featured even more gatherings than usual. Aside from the annual kung fu demonstration and the yearly song and dance show featuring all the elementary school classes, families participated in an evening of games in the schoolyard, watched a Greek sixth graders’ version of Shakespeare’s Midsummer Night’s Dream, and gathered for a night-time beach party.   

This may seem to confirm the myth that Greeks party too much to have real problems, but I want to emphasize that the events I’m discussing all cost very little, taking place outdoors or in public buildings, with no more money spent on contributions than one would spend on a family meal, very basic costuming assembled at home (plus one ten euro skirt), and virtually no scenery for the performances. These events are not evidence that Greeks are lazy or extravagant, but rather that they try hard to carry on as well as possible in the face of severe economic difficulty—wages down by an average of about 21% in the last five years, family incomes reduced by a third. (For some statistics, see e.g. Greeks Worry About Bailout’s Push for an Economic Overhaul). Rather than giving in to despair, most parents think a lot about   their children, and these events showed them making the most of creativity, volunteerism, imagination, determination, and community spirit for the sake of the kids.


When the elementary school parents’ association organized a big party outside our school, association members and their friends planned and refereed the games, families brought scraps of cloth, old buttons, and leftover art supplies, and money left over from families’ annual 10-euro contribution to a school fund covered souvlaki and drinks. Greeting various parents and grandparents as I hurried from one game to another to photograph both of my kids with their classmates, I felt satisfied to be part of that cheerful, close-knit community. I so often hear Greeks say “let the children be well,” “let the children have fun.” They did.

When I was in sixth grade in Pennsylvania, we managed to stage a musical version of Alice in Wonderland in the school cafeteria/gym, but that was a modest effort compared to my daughter’s class’s Greek version of Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream. The Shakespeare did strike me as a surprising and over-ambitious choice for eleven year olds, especially given insufficient rehearsal time in their final venue. Even so, the combination of gracefully dancing sprites, a comically cavorting group of boyish players, and poised leads remembering many lines provided outlets for various types of talent and beauty, entertaining a good crowd of family and friends in the theater of a local community college.

This year’s annual end of school performance by all the elementary school children occurred too early in the day for working parents, shade, or comfortable temperatures, unlike the usual evening gatherings. However, “Around the World in 80 Minutes” featured joyful and sometimes impressive performances by the children, with attempts at a variety of ethnic costumes and some striking songs and dances. The show offered not only the expected stereotypical costumes and mannerisms, but also a welcome exposure to songs sung in different languages, including Chinese, Spanish, and Kannada (from India). It invited the children—almost (but not quite) all of them 100% Greek--to imagine themselves belonging to different cultures. 

The sixth graders’ night-time beach party was a modest family affair, except that children who knew nothing about campfires attempted to feed and leap over them until they were extinguished. I admired the silhouettes of children reveling in their first evening at the beach, splashing and playing in front of the setting sun, bathed in a sea of glowing reflections of the joys of childhood play. Those kids did not really doubt that their lives would go on much as they have, even in a different school with different classmates, instead of the ones they cry to think of leaving after six years together.

Gazing up at the dark starry sky during a lull in the party, when the fires had been put out and I considered my kids fairly safe, I couldn’t remember it being such a big deal to finish sixth grade, although I was scared of starting middle school. On the other hand, I have been surprised by brief scents and tastes of my childhood in the rare Greek raspberries that appeared in organic stores twice this summer, and the campfires at the beach party—minus the marshmallows we used to roast. I have a completely different life here than I did in the USA, and I am not sure what will happen to that life in this time of crisis, but I felt a sense of security as a member of a community of interwoven families at the school parties and performances

With Refugees at the Anti-Racist Festival and Tourists Enjoying the Greek Summer


The refugees from Syria who are still in Chania after 15 months do not feel the same way. Separated from parts of their families as well as their homeland, where their homes and belongings have been destroyed, waiting to reunite with husbands, wives, fathers, or mothers in another strange land, they probably feel far more insecurity than sixth graders, settled American immigrants, or even many of the Greeks who are facing an economic crisis. Attending Chania’s Anti-Racist Festival with some of the Syrian women and children I’ve met this year gave me a very different perspective than I had at last year’s festival. Sitting behind a table filled with their handmade strawberry and bergamot preserves, date-filled Syrian cookies, and Arabic calligraphy saying “My country is in my heart” and “No to racism” in what looked more like beautiful paintings than writing to ignorant me, I used my broken Greek to translate their somewhat limited English as they sold what they had made, when our German friend wasn’t there with her more fluent Greek.

It only occurred to me the next day that sitting behind a table next to Syrian Muslim women who were covered in long coats and headscarves and walking around the park with them and their children might have had more significance than simply spending time outside with new friends, looking around, and stretching our legs. After the attacks in Tunisia, France, and Kuwait at the end of last month, I realized that literally standing by Muslim women and children, joking with them, sharing food after sunset during Ramadan, tickling a little one’s feet to cheer her up after an allergic reaction to insect bites, meant more than I’d thought at the time. I just felt like I was relaxing with my new friends, helping them get out of the small hotel rooms where they spend most of their time, into a large park with anti-racist folks milling around, chatting, sharing their ideas and literature, giving lectures, playing music, selling food and drink, helping children with art projects, or reading fairytales with an egalitarian twist. And of course I was doing all of that, too.

Shortly after the Anti-Racist Festival, some American friends visited us in Greece on their way to Ukraine, where one of them has family and business partners. I wondered if they’d been asked if they would visit Syria this summer, too. Of course, their trip was planned long before anyone knew that Greek banks would be closed and cash would become scarce, and they were heading for western Ukraine rather than the trouble spots. Especially since my friends were coming with plenty of cash, I encouraged them to continue their trip here as planned. And like all the tourists I’ve heard of, they had a wonderful time here, with no problems aside from luggage delayed by a non-Greek airline. The sea is still a lovely clear aquamarine, the sky a brilliant blue. The mountains, gorges, caves, monuments, museums, and beaches are still here. The Greeks my friends met at their hotel, in Chania’s Old Port, at the Botanical Park of Crete, and at various restaurants were friendly and helpful. My American friends were able to do what they wished, and they would recommend Greece to anyone who can manage to come. They hope to come back to see more of the island, since one week is certainly not enough for a visit to Crete. Tourists, take note: Greece is a challenging place to live, but still a truly wonderful place to visit.

Summer came upon us suddenly about a week early this June, with temperatures up in the 90s, the fuschia brilliance of bougainvillea climbing out of gardens, pink and white oleander blowing in the wind by the roadsides, apricots, cherries, and honeydew ripening, cicadas’ buzzing drone occasionally replacing birdsong, multiple end of school performances and parties, and our closest brush yet with a Grexit. At the farmers’ market, I heard one vendor calling out, “peponia san baklavadakia,” or honeydew as sweet as baklava, and Crete does offer incredible fresh produce. The weather moderated into comfortable temperatures here until the end of this month, when the heat hit us again, but it is often relieved by sea breezes. Now I smell the oleander and ripening figs baking sweetly in the hot sun, reminding me repeatedly of the abundance around me on this fruitful island, where every walk gives me a view of the endless blue of the sea.

May the creditors allow Greece to take advantage of its talented people, its beautiful islands, its historical heritage, its lovely beaches, its abundant olives and other produce. May the Greeks find a way to use the great potential of the people and the land for an economic comeback. Tourists, consumers, writers, you can help too. Come to Greece, buy Greek olive oil, wine, olives, feta, and other Greek products. Write to politicians and editors in support of the Greek people. So many prominent economists blame non-Greek bankers and politicians at least as much as Greeks for the situation here that I have lost track of them. But whatever you think about the adults, Greek children are certainly not to blame for the mess the country is in. They deserve your support.



Thursday, July 31, 2014

Immigrants in Greece, Part 2: The 9th Anti-Racist Festival in Chania, Refugees Fleeing Across the Mediterranean, and the Reception of Migrants in Greece

The Anti-Racist Festival and “Our Sea”: The Mediterranean Offering Hope or a Tomb?


“Say NO to Racism,” urged a banner decorated with multi-colored handprints and a peace sign outside the People’s Peace and Friendship Park in Chania, next to another banner announcing the 9th Annual ΑΝΤΙΡΑΤΣΙΣΤΙΚΟ ΦΕΣΤΙΒΑΛ, or Anti-Racist Festival, with this year’s theme of “mare nostrum, η θάλασσά μας,” our sea. On the last Sunday in June, my Greek friend K and I entered the park, passing a well-attended interactive children’s theater activity on the grass under tall trees, with an open children’s chess tournament underway on tables and plastic chairs across from it. Seeking an overview of the festival, we walked past some of the scores of informational stalls before returning to talk with some of the volunteers staffing them. We passed stands selling sweets and drinks, struggled to hear people talk over loud music blaring from large speakers, and noticed alluring Middle Eastern food in a sort of outdoor food court equipped with dozens of tables and chairs. We passed tables filled with leftist books for the taking, others piled with photocopies about revolutionary theory, more with booklets and pamphlets about Doctors of the World, a group that helps addicts, and other topics, plus a few tables filled with free clothes, to which we added some clothing and children’s books.

We passed photo and art exhibits set up along the park’s pathways, with small paper boats related to the festival’s theme of “our sea”—the Mediterranean—strung up above the walkway, perhaps to emphasize the fragility of the vessels in which so many migrants travel to Greece. Some of the paper boats had turned on their sides and begun to come apart, as if to remind us that real migrants’ overloaded inflatable boats too often capsize, leading to either rescues or—in hundreds of cases just this year—drownings. One festival discussion focused on the Mediterranean Sea as the "watery tomb of refugees and chemical weapons," and while time and language constraints prevented me from following it, more easily translatable advance press releases include many of the points likely to have been made there. For example, the festival organizers partially echoed major human rights organizations in arguing that “Europe has turned into a fortress. Its policies keep the borders closed and fill the Mediterranean with sinking boats and dead immigrants, destroying any dreams for a decent life. The war in Syria is continuing and is sending refugees by the thousands. The chemical weapons used in the war and sold by Western governments, after killing thousands of innocent civilians, will now be hydrolyzed and dumped in our Sea." The authorities deny that any remains of chemical weapons will end up in the Mediterranean, and I can only hope that is true, and hope no accident will allow any leaks or spills, since this is where my children swim, along with millions of other people. However, no one denies that many migrants and refugees drown as they attempt to reach safety in Europe, and human rights groups protest what festival organizers describe as “illegal deportations, concentration camps, the Evros fence … [and] the bureaucratic maze for asylum seekers [which] constitute a continuing crime against human life and dignity." If you had come from Syria or Iraq, you’d know what they’re talking about.

Imagine Fleeing Syria or Iraq


Imagine living in Syria or Iraq and fleeing your hometown with your children, leaving behind nearly everything you own, and everyone and everything you have ever known, trying to rescue your children from bombs and bullets, trying to reach a country where your children can survive, learn, and flourish. Imagine fleeing on foot, making your way to a smuggler of human beings who promises to take you to a safe country if you give him nearly all the money you could scrape together, at least a thousand euros. Imagine that the smuggler tells you and your children to walk and walk until you’re exhausted, crowds you all onto a packed bus, tells you to board a small, shabby boat, then packs more and more people in next to you, until you think the boat will sink. Imagine setting off into the Mediterranean Sea, which looks nothing like the postcards of Greek beaches, but more like the Atlantic Ocean, an endless sea of waves that threaten to engulf your overloaded boat and drown your children, as it may well do on a windy day. Imagine traveling on the boat for many hours, crowded in with your crying children and dozens of other worried people, terrified of the vast sea and the boat’s rocking, with too little food and water, no toilet, too little space. Imagine sighting land and being pushed off onto even smaller, more overloaded, less seaworthy inflatable boats and told to get to shore without a captain. (Here is a photo of such a boat--at the link, not below. Think about how well it would fare in high waves.) 

Imagine seeing water rise up around the legs of your children, and fearing that the boat will sink before you reach land. Imagine seeing a Coast Guard boat like the one in the photo approaching, and calling for help, along with all the desperate men, women, and children on the boat. Imagine your relief if the Coast Guard tows your boat to Greek soil, instead of taking it back toward the coast you came from, as they sometimes have for people you’ve talked to. Imagine your surprise and terror if the Greek authorities handle you and your children roughly, demand to see your travel documents, and put you in a detention center if you couldn’t get any travel documents since your homeland was in chaos and your children’s lives were in danger. Imagine your confusion and fear if you can’t understand what they are saying, or why they have locked you up behind fences topped with barbed wire, when all you wanted was a safer life for your children. Imagine wondering how you can protect your children in an overcrowded detention center with inadequate medical care, food, space, and hygienic facilities—dirty clothes and beds, no soap, detergent, or medicine; overflowing toilets making bathrooms into open sewers; untreated illnesses spreading among inmates charged with no crime; no way of communicating with the outside world; uncertainty about your future. Imagine having your hope turn to despair and fear. (Here is more about detention centers, including some photos.)

Do you find that hard to imagine? I do. I can imagine it happening to myself now, having read and heard the videotaped stories of a number of migrants, refugees, and asylum seekers who lived through a very similar journey, without ever believing that it really could happen to me (see e.g. Doctors Without Borders, and for some videos in English, not just about Greece, see the UN Refugee Agency Stories page). But I cannot even envision my children in such a situation; nor do I want to push myself far enough to try. I do not want to have nightmares about that. However, such a nightmare is the reality for thousands—if not millions--of refugees and migrants, many of them parents, all of them sons or daughters. While many are much luckier, others do not feel they have the option of protecting their children from such a horror story, since they face even greater threats in their homeland; they can think of no choice but to try to live through such a journey if they want to give their children a chance to survive and thrive.

The Reality for Refugees and Migrants in Greece


That is the true story of thousands of refugees, asylum seekers, and migrants who have fled Afghanistan, Syria, Iraq, Pakistan, Morocco, Algeria, and other countries in North Africa, the Middle East, and Asia in search of a safe European country where they can build a better life. Since the Greek government completed construction of a four-meter high, 12.5 km long barbed wire fence in the northeastern region of Evros in December 2012, the land border between Turkey and Greece which is not demarcated by the Evros River has been cut off as the major route into Europe. This has drastically reduced the number of migrants crossing into Greece at that point, but like any fence, it does not stop movement; it just slows it down or pushes it in a different direction. Now desperate migrants embark on a dangerous sea journey. Many have been turned back by the Greek coast guard while still at sea, while others have been saved by the coast guard or fishing vessels, although recent outcries over mass drownings in the Mediterranean may be turning the tide toward more strenuous rescue efforts and an end to pushbacks away from European soil. The Italian Navy’s major rescue effort, called “Mare Nostrum” like the Anti-Racist Festival’s theme, has set a more humanitarian example.

Both leftist and anti-racist organizations within Greece, and international human rights groups such as Amnesty International, Human Rights Watch, Doctors Without Borders, and Doctors of the World, as well as the Council of Europe’s commissioner for human rights, have severely criticized the Greek and European governments for their inadequate responses to the needs of migrants, especially asylum seekers. They have been particularly critical of reported pushbacks of people sent away from Greek territory without an asylum hearing, and of horrific conditions in migrant detention camps. However, those who criticize the Greek authorities for seriously flawed laws, policies, implementation, and facilities for migrants and refugees—and certain Greeks for their racist and xenophobic words, acts, and voting--do not stop there. Acknowledging that the Greek economy, which is in its worst state of recession (or depression) ever in peacetime, with almost 27% unemployment, is ill suited to help needy people from other countries when it is failing millions of newly impoverished Greeks, rights groups call on the European Union (EU) to take on more responsibility for migrants entering Europe at its periphery.

So far, even the latest manifestation of the Dublin Regulation for refugees, Dublin III, continues to decree that asylum seekers entering Europe should have their requests processed by the European country they first enter. That obviously puts a greater burden on countries such as Greece which are closest to the lands from which many refugees flee--an unfair and unmanageable burden for a small, struggling country. EU budgets do not reflect this reality by providing adequate funding to help Greece treat migrants with humane sensitivity, although they do seem to reflect a desire to keep out as many needy migrants as they can by increasing coast guard and border patrols, building more walls, and pushing would-be migrants back where they came from, as Amnesty International and others report: “The EU Commission allocated €227,576,503 for Greece to keep refugees and migrants out from 2011 until the end of 2013; but only €19,950,000 to assist their reception during the same period” (Greece: Stop unlawful and shameful expulsion of refugees and migrants; see also Human Rights Watch’s Europe’s Spectacle of Compassion for Migrants). Meanwhile, Greece struggles with too many people from crisis points in the Middle East, Africa, and Asia who are trying to escape to Europe. And Greece fails to provide a safe haven for them.

Humanitarian Responses to Human Needs


One of the humanitarian organizations trying to alleviate the problems of both migrants and impoverished Greeks is Medecins du Monde Greece, or Doctors of the World, which I learned is separate from Doctors Without Borders, with its local branches tending to be more autonomous, but similar in providing free medical care and medicine to those who cannot afford them, as well as advocating for human rights and fighting against racist and xenophobic actions alongside the Greek Council for Refugees. Back at the Anti-Racist Festival, I had a very informative discussion (in English) with a Lebanese agricultural engineer who volunteers with Medecins du Monde Greece. He told me that when its Chania branch was founded eight years ago, it helped 5 to 8 people without health insurance or money to pay for doctors or medicines each month, but now it helps up to 30 per day. Initially, the clients were not Greek. Now, 35% of those seeking help are Greek, since more and more Greeks have become impoverished during the economic crisis here, the state welfare system no longer provides adequate aid to the needy (including the unemployed), copays for insured medications have increased from 10% to 25-50%, and in some cases even more, far beyond what reduced pensions enable impoverished seniors to afford, if they even have health insurance. Many of the foreign-born clients are Bulgarians, Moroccans, and Albanians (groups that together, says the agricultural engineer, make up about 80% of the non-Greeks in Chania now); others are Algerians, Tunisians, Egyptians, and Central Africans. Medecins du Monde helps as many as they can, but they have no sponsorship from big companies, banks, or the government now; relying on individual donations and fundraisers, they can’t afford too much, and they prioritize purchases of children’s vaccines, since those are never donated, while other medications are.

In Medecins du Monde – Greece’s National Report on Racist Violence, published in April of this year, Psychiatry Professor Nikos Tzavaras emphasizes the importance of combating “xenophobic prejudice” which often leads to “the demonization of the [so-called] dangerous race” and “violence and aggressiveness” against people viewed as different. He suggests that we start by fostering “the understanding of problems and of cultural particularities of the immigrants in Greece, mainly in order to highlight the similarities between them and the local population. The persistent effort to identify with them enhances the solidarity toward them and assists the effort of various organisations involved in the assistance of immigrant population[s]” (33, 36). This is what I am trying to do here: to emphasize the shared humanity, the similar basic needs and desires, of everyone I’m writing about, even in the face of drastically different situations. This is also what I’m learning about this summer in more detail than ever before.
  

A Haven for Unaccompanied Refugee Boys



At the Anti-Racist Festival—where I learned a lot--I was impressed by a group of posters bearing colorfully handwritten, sometimes illustrated poems by refugee boys living at the Ξενώνας ανήλικων προσφύγων Ανωγείων, the Center for Unaccompanied Underaged Asylum Seekers in Anogia, near Rethymno in Crete. The poems had been written in several languages and alphabets, including Arabic, French and Farsi, with some also translated into Greek, but aside from the languages, they remind me of similar projects completed in American grade schools, where written self-expression was (in my experience) encouraged. These poems seem to express love for people who are far away. One of the boys had written his name in Greek on both the original and the translation, and proudly circled it. Some of the boys were waiting to sing their native songs at the Festival. Since the refugees were minors, K and I had turned to their teacher and director for information, but before we left I commented to one of the boys that I was sure he knew better Greek than I did, and his teacher assured me that he’d picked it up in just three months. (Ah, the minds of the young!) I was not the first American they’d met; I was surprised to meet two of the psychology or social work students from Drexel University in the U. S. who come to the center each year as part of a 6-month internship at the refugee center.

The teacher and director of the center told K and me (in English and Greek) that the center houses 25 boys from Afghanistan, Pakistan, Bangladesh, Congo, Nigeria, and Syria who left their homeland without their parents or were separated from them after leaving, and have applied for asylum in Greece. Since 2000, this center has housed 400 boys, including some as young as 9 years old, with many around 12 or 13 on arrival. Accepted based on their own claims of refugee status, the boys live at the center until they’re 18. They are generally political or war refugees, often from areas with civil war or violence by the Taliban, some fleeing in order to avoid being forced to become child soldiers. They enter Greece through Turkey, on foot or by boat or plane. The police bring them to the center from all over Crete (since it’s the only one of its kind on the island). There are several centers in other parts of Greece (funded by the Greek Labor Ministry and—mostly--the European Refugee Fund), but there’s not enough room for all the boys who could use them, and many end up on the streets or in detention centers or jails. The Anogia center provides legal, social, and psychological services, as well as lessons in the Greek language and culture, drama, and other subjects. Some of the boys attend the regular Greek school in the village after they learn some Greek, but many didn’t go to school in their home country and can’t read or write in their native language, so they are not all prepared for Greek school.

My New “Minority” Status and Broadened Horizons


Over the last few years, I’ve learned about the centers for unaccompanied underage asylum seekers in Greece, as well as educating myself about the problems facing impoverished migrants and refugees who seek a better life in or beyond Greece (via news articles, discussions with Greeks, human rights organizations’ reports, and interviews with migrants in Greece). This knowledge has changed the way I think about unaccompanied minors entering the southwestern U. S. from Central America, hoping for a better life in a country with less crime, hoping for more leniency from the U. S. government as children in need. Of course I knew that Latin Americans migrate to the U. S., some of them without legal documentation, but since I’ve become an immigrant myself and learned about other migrants’ situations, the American situation looks different. I think I can better understand what’s going on, at least when I hear of certain American citizens, mayors, and churches providing compassionate support for exhausted migrants, although I don’t understand how other Americans can seriously argue that the humane thing to do is to return Central American children to countries full of gang violence and murder. Being a minority—even one of the most privileged, least visible ones with the same color skin and not such different hair or features from the majority—can be an educational experience for someone born to a life of middle-class, white American privilege. I certainly don’t claim to fully understand what other minorities experience, or what it’s like to be a victim of racism due to the color of one’s skin or classism due to one’s socioeconomic background or even, totally, ethnocentrism due to the accident of one’s ancestry. But I think my cultural differences from Greeks, and especially my (daily, continuing) realization of how it feels to struggle to communicate in a language foreign to me, have enabled a deeper sort of learning about some of that.

For example, my experiences here have made it crystal clear to me that someone’s inability to speak well in a language foreign to her does not prove that she is stupid or less deserving of respect than anyone else. I know I often sound stupid to Greeks  when I try to speak their language, and I know that those who are not open to getting to know me will not really understand much about me, and are less likely to respect me, if they do not speak English. I feel the impatient dismissal of certain salespeople and public servants, albeit far less frequently than many migrants. On the other hand, those who are willing to take the time and trouble to understand me—my children’s friends’ mothers, neighbors, and some friends of friends, for example—can begin to do so, and let me get to know them, if they are very patient with my still-elementary Greek language skills. (This is the kind of patient compassion more of the world needs to extend to more of the world.) I am becoming too ashamed to say I’ve been living here for 11 ½ years without learning proper Greek and have resolved to resume the language studies I abandoned in frustration at my slow progress years ago. (Yes, I know; it’s about time.)

However, even now, many Greeks go beyond patience with my lack of fluency; some treat me, in my privileged state as the wife of a Greek professor, like family. My landlady washed my car for me after it rained mud and invited me to harvest spearmint and greens from her garden any time. A friend’s grandmother made my daughter the 1970s-style skirt she needed for their end-of-school program and refused any money for her work. A friend gave me some little basil plants, for the second time this year. The neighbors, teachers, mail carrier, organic store owner, toy store clerk, and grocery clerks take time to chat with me about the everyday things I am able to discuss in Greek. I’m part of the community here—more than I’ve ever been since I left my childhood neighborhood in Pennsylvania. If I end up leaving Greece, I will have mixed feelings about my new uprooting. There are good things and bad things everywhere, as I tell everyone who asks how I like it here. While some less fortunate migrants have suffered more intensely than I can imagine from the bad, including the racism and xenophobia, here, others have told me they also feel much as I do—part of the community (more or less).  

One of the good things here is the extent of the effort to overcome prejudice and hatred, and to help the less fortunate—as many Americans also do. The Anti-Racist Festival was actually much more than its name implies: it was also leftist, ecologist, humanitarian, pacifist, and more, with music, art, dance, photography, documentary films, lectures, and more than 60 information stands related to (for example) homelessness, addiction, desertification, water rights, the hydrolization of chemical weapons in the Mediterranean, recycling, and refugees and migrants from Afghanistan, Congo, Philippines, Syria, the Eastern Mediterranean, and elsewhere. I noticed a clever slogan on a banner: ΑΝ ΤΟ ΠΕΡΙΒΑΛΛΟΝ ΗΤΑΝ ΤΡΑΠΕΖΑ ΘΑ ΤΟ ΕΙΧΑΝ ΗΔΗ ΣΩΣΕΙ, or IF THE ENVIRONMENT WERE A BANK, THEY WOULD HAVE ALREADY SAVED IT. And an idealist’s hope: ΕΞΩ Ο ΠΟΛΕΜΟΣ ΑΠΟ ΤΗΝ ΙΣΤΟΡΙΑ, or TAKE THE WAR OUT OF HISTORY. This major event had attracted 2000 visitors the previous day without any corporate or government funding, and while a Greek World Cup game probably decreased the turnout that Sunday night, more people were arriving, Greek fashion, as darkness began to approach and the air cooled down. Even in a conservative/ centrist Greek paper, journalist and editor Nikos Konstandaras reminds us, “In this day and age…. Every conflict can reach us, whether we are spectators at the Boston marathon, whether we are flying 10 kilometers above ground, whether we hear about the plight of refugees and choose to forget that until recently they lived lives like ours. Every war is now our war. And every refugee is one of us (Death on MH17 and our global war). They’re one of us: they’re human, too. We can’t just push them back, lock them up, send them and their children away to suffer or die in places we’d never take our own children. Yes, we have our own problems in our own countries, we have native-born people struggling to make ends meet, but what religion, what human being, could condone such locking up or sending away? Think about it.

Acknowledgements:

Many thanks to the Greeks and migrants who helped me gather information for this blog, including the volunteers who put so much time into an impressive Anti-Racist Festival, and to the Americans who commented on a draft of part of this text. 
 

SELECTED ADDITIONAL LINKS FOR MORE INFORMATION 
ABOUT MIGRANTS IN GREECE

ASYLUM 

This February article suggests some improvement in the processing of applications for asylum, especially for refugees from Syria and Somalia.


REFUGEES 

UNHCR Tracks 
The UN Refugee Agency has produced videos and reported on interviews with Syrian refugees in Greece, as well as others.  

PUSHBACKS  

Greece: Stop unlawful and shameful expulsion of refugees and migrants 
Amnesty International strongly condemns the common practice of “pushbacks” by Greek officials, the illegal and inhumane expulsion of migrants before they can enter the country to request asylum.

DETENTION  

Greek State Legal Council justifies detention pending removal beyond 18-month limit set by EU Return Directive  

RACIST VIOLENCE  

African migrants face 'impossible' life in Greece  
This is a very upsetting overview of a horrible, impossible situation for dark-skinned immigrants in Athens in 2012, where they faced discrimination, racial slurs, beatings, and imprisonment but were not allowed to head to different parts of Europe.  

Against Racism   

HUMAN RIGHTS 

Greece: Human Rights Watch Submission to the United Nations Committee against Torture   

The Human Rights Watch page on Greece