The kids were one of my main passions at the station. My little Eko hereos. I think they knew that and they gave me so much just with their presence. Those little shining eyes starring at you with no distance or skepticism in them. They don’t know where you are from and they don’t care where you from. They only want to know where you got the fancy play toys from. Toys or racism ? The decision is so easy. These kids know how to play, not like kids in Germany with their IPads. these children know how to have fun only with an empty foodbox
Katharine Lambers :: Age 20 :: Law student
You want a yacht on the coast ? In the water floats those who didn’t accomplish to flee.
This sentence changed something, I can’t explain what but I know it was this particular sentence. I study law in Berlin and I really love it. I disagree with the reason why so many people decide to become a lawyer or judge. They do it because of the money not because of the justice. The difference between me and them is that I love justice. I have three older brothers, I learned to fight for my rights. Today I know that not having as much cereal as your brother is not the definition of injustice. The definition of injustice is to be born without clean water, is to be raped because of your sex, is to live insecure because of instability in your home country. It took 14 years for me to understand this but how should I know better ?
I was born in a safe country with more food that anybody can consume. Of course I knew that there are bad people in this world but then how probable is it that I would get hit by a bomb ? Luckily I grew up with people around me who taught me to think outside the box. One of these people was Tom and that is how a huge journey for a not so huge girl started. Tom, my second father, the founder of the Franken Konvoi, one of the most big hearted people in the world. He took me with him from Germany to Greece. Across Austria, the country which controls million of people with their new quotes, across Slowenia, across Croatia, across Serbia and across Macedonia in this little but well known white pick up truck. When we arrived in the middle of the night at the legendary “Park Hotel“ it was about 2 am and there were still people who were awake. Maybe because of the pictures in their heads of the day before, images which don’t let them sleep or because of the work they had to do that day. I was amazed by the lightning I saw in their eyes. I felt that they had passion for the work they were doing. It was this passion that I felt I was missing so incredibly much. I felt that this trip was one of the best decisions I ever made.
During the first days we had the problem balancing where is our help was needed the most. We decided the Eko gas Station next to Polykastro was the place to be. We heard from several volunteers that there was a problem with the food there. The refugees at the station had a little food but no hot food. So we knew the kitchen material we brought from Germany with the donations from the “Franken Konvoi“ could help the most at the Eko Station. After we got tents that were large enough to cook and to store all the stuff in, we built the Eko kitchen. After finding people who could help with the cooking was really no problem, and then everything worked well. I know it sounds pretty easy, but you see it’s not difficult to help.
So I learned that always when you make the first step to help, there will be a hundred of other feet who make the second step with you. At Eko Station I understood the meaning of the wise words “the less you have, the more you give.” I understood it in the first night I slept at the camp. I really understood that all these people are the same as me. The feeling you have waking up next to your new friends and you realize you can trust them even in the darkest night you feel that you made more than new friends, you made new brothers.
Everyone at the station wanted me to feel comfortable, yet I was a person who had come there to make them feel better. I’m not a very strong person or a good cook but I wanted to give them the feeling that they are welcome and that Germany is not a country completely made up of stupid racists. And I think they understood that, otherwise these one guy wouldn’t have invited me to his big party that he plans to make when he arrives in Germany (Bro, I really hope you make it and you could be sure that we will make the biggest party we’ve ever been to). And the parents at Eko camp wouldn’t have let me play with their kids if they didn’t trust me.
The kids were one of my main passions at the station. My little Eko hereos. I think they knew that and they gave me so much just with their presence. Those little shining eyes starring at you with no distance or skepticism in them. They don’t know where you are from and they don’t care where you from. They only want to know where you got the fancy play toys from. Toys or racism ? The decision is so easy. These kids know how to play, not like kids in Germany with their IPads. these children know how to have fun only with an empty foodbox. I was so amazed and hypnotized by these little faces showing me how they build giant castles of dreams in their small heads. I can’t describe the feeling, when you feel forty tiny hands grabbing after you, hearing twenty different joyful laughs and some cute a little broken voices screaming “Please my friend“. But you always have to remember what these kids went through. I had to be careful that I didn’t forget where I was. That I was still at a refugee camp and these kids were still in a very difficult situation. There were moments when little boys started to beat each other but not only with their fists, no, with sticks or anything they found. One time Quentin, a good friend and juggler, gave one boy this juggling-bowling pin and the boy didn’t even think for a second immediately began beating an other kid with it. One man said to Tom and I that these kids are the “Devil generation“, they grew up with war and their whole life they saw that violence is a legitimatized way to behave with each other. But I’m not here to judge, these kids went through tough times and they will go through tough times ahead as well. It’s not their fault how they behave, it’s the fault of our loving politicians. These children don’t deserve this, nobody deserve this.
In memory of all the kids who lost their life because of the politics.
You are dirt in their hearts.
Your experiences are in their dreams.
Your blood on their skin.