Tuesday 14th

If two hours sleep is enough, then three certainly is.

Although I was feeling a little bit tired when I was still awake in my tent at three o' clock this morning...


Now some of you might question the sanity of putting such a hideous photo on the internet but I want you all to see and understand the 'joy of camping' at it's finest hour. Oh my word, just stay in a hotel!

We take the women and children swimming everyday in the sea, which is a lot less relaxing than it sounds.


You see, none of them know how to swim, so you have to be constantly on your guard to make sure that no one is drowning or being drowned. 'Being drowned?' you ask.

Yes. The women, who were all wearing life jackets by the way, had a tendency of panicking in the water and using the small children as buoyancy aids. (You know a women has lost all maternal instinct when she pushes her own children underwater so that she can stay afloat). We tried explaining to the women that the water was only three feet deep and that they could simply stand up should they start feeling uncomfortable, but they just didn't get it.

Monday 13th

2 hours sleep is totally enough to get through the day on.

I’m not sure how much I can tell you about the camp, except that it gives the refugees a chance to get out of the city for a week. Many of them are homeless so it must be a really nice break to know that for the next five nights you and your family has somewhere to sleep and that you'll each get three meals a day.

I'm with the kids all week, which is great because I love kids. Everyone gets me and Corinne confused. They think that she's great with kids and loves looking after them and that I’m some Scrooge that thinks all kids are dirty, smelly and gross, should be kept at least ten metres away from me at all costs and that in fact, one of my first statutes should I indeed become Queen of the World would be to banish all children from my sight.

So I’m really looking forward to watching these kids from 8am to 11pm this whole week. Yay!

But even I have to admit that some of these kids are pretty cute.

Got back to the tent this afternoon to find out that someone had used the tree by the tent as a toilet. There was diarrhoea everywhere. Oh, how I love camping!

Sunday 12th

This week we're heading off to a remote location called Porto Astro for a five day camp with a few of the refugee families. Just as we were loading up the cars, the heavens opened and it started to pour with rain. “Let me just run back upstairs and get my rain coat.” Upstairs rummaging through my wardrobe I realise a very sad fact. I don't have my rain coat with me. Why, you ask? Because I’m in Greece! It's not supposed to rain in Greece!

On the way the water was inches deep on the road. As you can see, it was like driving through gushing rivers.

After a couple of hours driving we came to the coast and got a boat to the camp. Although it's not on an island, the camp is so secluded that it can't be reached by road, hence the boat ride.

Of course, if we were in Africa, the lack of road wouldn't stop anyone. They'd just drive their beat up old Toyota Corollas straight over all the bushes and bumps, through the mountains, perhaps even through the sea, music blaring, big smile on their faces. And my smile would be the biggest of all, because it's really fun. For the first few hours anyway. If anyone says to you, “Let's get the bus from Mombasa to Kigali, it's only 38 hours”, shout as loudly and as clearly as you can, “NO!” and run away from that crazy person in the opposite direction avoiding eye contact at all costs. That's what Mike and Karyn should have said when I suggested it.

Anyway, I’ve been feeling a bit nervous for the last few days about this whole camping thing. In my 22 years I’ve never been camping. I missed out on it in my childhood due to the creature comfort loving nature of one of my parents. Yes, you guessed it. My dad just can't live without his hair-dryer.

And I escaped it as a young adult by being cleverly unavailable whenever friends were going and had invited me. “Sorry, I’m washing my hair. And I’d like to have the option of doing so for the rest of the week.”

So anyway, I show up at camp expecting to be sharing a tent with at least 15 other individuals (I’ve heard rumours about Jubilee camping trips), but it turned out that I had been given a tent to myself. Hallelujah! Absolute luxury.

I climbed in the opening and looked about my new home. The air-conditioning appeared to be broken, and the wardrobe looked remarkably similar to my suitcase, but I decided to remain positive.

That night I went to bed feeling a little insecure. What if it rained and my tent were washed into the sea with me still in it? What if the giant insect I could hear got into my tent and laid its eggs in me? What if I couldn't get I hot shower in the morning?!

Needless to say, I didn't sleep well that night.

Saturday 11th

We had Tea House today at the ARC.

I served tea for a couple of hours and joined the kids just in time to catch the end of Madagascar 2. Perfect timing.

Friday 10th

This afternoon I sat in on Emily and Lauren's English lesson for some of the refugee girls. Neither of them has taught before so I started off the lesson, gave Emily some pointers and off they went! I learnt quite a lot while I was in Rwanda and I was happy to help out. Next week I’ll be at camp so they'll be on their own! But I have every confidence that they'll do brilliantly.

Thursday 9th

Today we had women's showers at the ARC. Basically the women and children can come in and shower while we do their laundry.

I was with the kids all day and I survived! We made paper plate flowers and did some colouring in.


One of the refugees cooked lunch for us; it was a spinach, rice noodle, onion, bean, chickpea, Greek yoghurt, herbs and spices sort of concoction, and it was really tasty.

After the ARC the other interns went clothes shopping, but I went looking for ice cream. And I found it! Above the mall there's a great ice cream café called Scoop. The menu was in Greek but I got the waiter to translate it all for me and I chose chocolate orange ice cream with chocolate sauce. I’m in heaven.

Wednesday 8th Fear has a name...

And it is Marissa.

I made up a joke more for my own amusement than yours, but here it is:

Person ''a' is counselling person 'b' on the importance of courage.
a- “If I let fear hold me back, I’d never leave the house.”
b- “Why, are you afraid of everything?”
a- “No, just of the dog that lives downstairs!”

Marissa is the dog that lives in the courtyard under our apartment.


Don't be fooled by her cute, fluffy appearance. She's mean and she does not like me. Every time I try to leave or enter the house, she growls, barks and pursues. And she has a taste for human blood. She's bitten a few people up to date, and I’m afraid that I’ll be next.

I went to the hospital to visit Asilah this afternoon, but it took me hours to work up the courage to face Marissa. By the time I made it down the stairs I was shaking and nauseous. Says she who has faced lions and heights, the Congo and shark/dolphin infested waters, the cruel 10 month Exeter winter and her dad's dubious cooking...

I’m afraid for my life. Well, for my ankles at least.

Tuesday 7th

Today I was back at the ARC. Holiday over. It was a family lunch day so I was in the kitchen again, mainly washing dishes. It's more challenging that you might imagine. On the one hand, you've got Emiliano telling you to be as quiet as possible; stealth not speed is important. But on the other hand there was another guy telling us to go quicker; don't be afraid to make a bit of noise, just get the job done.

After we had closed for the day, some of us went to visit a refugee woman staying in a nearby hotel. Incredible story. So most of the refugees here are homeless, living in parks and abandoned buildings. One day a charity shows up at a park and takes a whole bunch of families back to a hotel and puts them up there. Incredible. They've been there for eight months now but the charity has run out of money and everyone will have to move back out on the street. It's one thing as a single person being homeless, but as a mother how do you explain to your three young kids that they're going to have to live on the streets? That must be heart-wrenching.
They say that the female refugees never sleep because the police are known to rape women and children in the night.

Monday 6th

We went to Aegina today, a large island just off the Athens coast and it turned out to be another beautiful day in paradise. The ferry ride was 45 minutes; we sat outside and enjoyed the view.



After lunch at a cute little café by the harbour, we went to the beach. Some might call it sunbathing but I see it more as opportunistic napping. We even did some swimming in the cool Mediterranean sea.

Well, I actually thought it was rather chilly compared to the bath-warm Indian Ocean and to Lakes Kivu and Tanganyika (find out next month if I escaped the exhausting clutches of Bilharzia, or Bill Harzie as Mike calls it!) Emily on the other hand, who is used to the icy depths of the Pacific, thought it was rather warm.

We explored the island later on in the day, enjoying picturesque alleyways and pistachio, um, goop. They grow pistachios on the island and I guess this is one of the more creative ways to eat them. It's good I guess for endurance athletes who need a glucose boost when they're out on the race. Or for diabetics.

We ended the day at the beach, cool drinks in our hands, watching the sunset over the mountains. As you can see, we even did some sailing!

Final splash in the sea to cool off before the ferry ride home. Beautiful!

(I'm the short dumpy one that didn't quite get off the ground).

Photos mainly by Emily Mueller

Sunday 5th

We went to church this morning, to one of the few Evangelical churches in the country. Did you know that it's illegal to convert someone under the age of 18 from Greek Orhodoxy? And in case you're wondering, yes, Greece is in Europe and in the EU.

The service was in Greek but we listened to an English translation with headphones. This was much more comfortable than in Rwanda. I really appreciate all the translation David and Emery did for me, but they both have interesting styles. David would look you in the eyes the whole time, rarely even blinking, which quite frankly was more than a little disturbing. And Emery would get so absorbed into the stories that he'd forget to translate. They were both better than Dora however, who couldn't be bothered to translate and would simply say 'I’ll tell you when we get home.'!!!

Emily and I decided to use our free time this afternoon to do touristy things.

First off we went to the Acropolis to see the Parthenon. It was really beautiful. Sadly Emily used a vivid colour setting on her camera, which has really picket up the red in my face! How wonderful.

Then we walked down to Hadrian's Arch, same Hadrian who built the wall to keep the Scots out.

Good man Hadrian. I believe we also saw the Temple of Zeus, but I could be wrong. They all look pretty samey.


We spent the late afternoon early evening at the Plaka which is a shopping/eating district.
I bought an oil painting of the area because it's pretty and I wanted it. It looks a little bit warped but it's just because it was rolled up.

We wandered about for several hours in the heat, until my feet hurt so much I could barely stand. And I was hungry. I decided it was dinner time, but all the restaurants were very expensive, it being tourist central, so we hopped back on the metro to find something cheaper further afield.

All in all it was a very nice day.

Saturday 4th

Today was my first day at the ARC, Athens Refugee Centre. Because we're working with Muslims, we have to make sure that we're covered up, which I have to say in this heat is rather disagreeable. Yes, it's hot here. Gutted to be in England. But c'est la vie.

My Farsi is very rusty/ was never that good, so I’ll have my work cut out for me here. But after being in Rwanda having to try and speak Kinyarwanda much of the time, I feel confident that after a while I’ll pick it up again.

I spent a lot of the day in the kitchen with Emiliano the Albanian chef, who speaks 6languages fluently and is currently working on a seventh. Show off.

We had about 300 refugees at the ARC today, and our main ministry of the day was serving tea. I would say that we averaged 2000 cups of tea in the course of the day. That's quite a lot.

I must admit that I found the day culturally challenging. Working with homeless people in the UK, mostly men, I’m used to giving people a lot of attention. You keep eye contact, you listen to their stories, you exaggerate facial expressions to overcome any language barrier. This is how you show you care, and more importantly that God cares. Making people feel valuable and loved. But here, because of the culture, as a woman I’m not supposed to interact with the men at all. If one of the refugee men comes and speaks to me, I have to walk away without responding. No eye contact and no dialogue!

I’m sure I’ll get used to it but it feels really strange to me. Fortunately there are lots of guys on the team to minister to the refugee men, and there are plenty of refugee women and children for me and the other female team members to minister to.

The Afghan kids are really cute. There are so many different people groups represented in their faces because the country is so diverse. And apparently they're hard-working too. This little boy took it upon himself to sweep up after the craft activity.

Friday 3rd

This morning I went with Christy and another team member called Susie to the hospital to visit one of the refugees. Her skirt caught on fire while she was cooking and she has severe burns from the waist down. She's been in hospital for over a month. She's only twenty years old.

Imagine how bored you'd be if you were in hospital for a month, then add to the equation that you're in a foreign country, so no TV or books. And you're far from home so you don't have many visitors. Plus, because you don't speak Greek, you have no idea what the doctors are saying to you about your treatment or chances of a full recovery. But you can't express these fears or frustrations because no one can understand you! It must suck quite a lot.

I’m going to meet up with Asila on a regular basis to teach her some English and hopefully try and keep her spirits up.

After lunch at Susie's, (orange ice cream, who knew?!), I made my way home by myself. On the way I stopped to buy some fruit. It's certainly more expensive here than in Kigali. I paid 7 euros for a pineapple and a kilo of cherries. Worth every cent though. I love fresh fruit.

Anyway, Athens Metro proved rather simple to navigate. There are only three lines, with a total of about 40 stops. It's a bit different to the tube.

Thursday 2nd

Waking up at three AM might seem a bit keen for a 7 o clock flight, but I hadn't finished packing yet. We left at four, arrived at Heathrow at five thirty and looked longingly at the shops until they opened at six. There's nothing like a toasted ham and cheese panini with mustard mayonnaise for second breakfast.

The couple I was seated next to on the plane were being very inappropriate, I would say verging on illegal, so I moved to the back of the plane and sat a seat away from a very respectable looking businessman. And breathed a sigh of relief.

A couple called Kent and Myrna picked me up from the airport and took me back to their place for an orientation. Kent walked me round the neighbourhood and showed me all the good places to buy cakes and ice cream.

While waiting for the other intern to get home to be introduced, I fell asleep on the balcony. (Everyone's assuming I’ve got jet lag because most interns fly from the States. I’m not going to correct them). When Emily arrived and prodded me with a stick to see if she lives, I jumped out my skin and almost of the balcony.

We had lasagne and home made bread for dinner, then I went home with two girls called Christy and Tasha, the wonderful people who have agreed to take me in for the month.

Just as an aside, Athens is not at all what I expected. I thought it would be a big, grey, dirty city that oppresses and destroys all joy and life from your soul. But it's not like that at all. The buildings are light and elegant, the sun shines and the sky is blue. It's not massively crowded and there are quite a few trees scattered around. It's actually rather beautiful.





Plus, there's loads of old stuff everywhere which really adds to the city's charm.

Athens Awaits!

I'm leaving for Athens at 4am tomorrow and despite getting absolutely no written feedback about the blog so far and the threatening ultimatum I offered you last week, I have decided to keep blogging because I'm steely and determined.

I will be in Greece for approximately one month working with refugees, mostly of Afghan descent with the goal of improving my Persian language skills before heading back to uni in October.

So watch the space...