Eleonas, Round 2
This post will be in two parts. Part 1 is what I wrote after a week had elapsed back at Eleonas, but never posted. Part 2 is what I have just written, five weeks in.
Part 1
I’m typing this as I lie awake in bed, ear plugs wedged in to cancel out the sounds of cars and scooters and garbage trucks, sweating due to the heat and lack of a fan.
Week 1 has gone by in a flash. Those of you who met with me before I left for Greece may recall that I was apprehensive about returning to Eleonas, this time with Selena. After a summer in which I poured out my 110% in encouraging the growth of my Tohoku students in the Y-PLAN TOMODACHI program at UC Berkeley, I felt like my heart was in Japan, and not yet ready to take on the refugee camp again.
My greatest strength and weakness is the investment I have in people or projects that I’m passionate about. When I care, I care deeply. I have a single-minded pursuit that can juggle multiple tasks within a certain frame. I was still in a Y-PLAN frame of mind and therefore regretting having arranged to return to Eleonas for the fall. I wish I had planned to go to Tohoku instead.
As our start day with Project Elea drew closer and closer, people would ask, “So, aren’t you excited to head back?!”… to which I wouldn’t know how to respond. Of course I wanted to see familiar faces again and reconnect with refugees and volunteers alike. Of course I hoped I could contribute in an even greater capacity than before, given my experience. But was I excited?
To be honest, I was not.
I had heard about how the camp and Project Elea had both changed over the summer, about fights and disagreements, about lingering dissatisfactions. Along with my persistent desire to be in Japan, I couldn’t feel that excited about Eleonas.
Yet I knew that all I had to do was step through the gates of the camp and step into community again for my heart to readjust and remember its connections.
I’m happy to say that it did just that.
I will never forget that first day back at camp. We took a taxi (can’t exactly remember why, but then again I am lazy and hail taxis/Ubers all the time), disembarked at the gate, checked in with the ministry, and walked in. The walk through the first half of Camp 1 to the Project Elea office was quiet — I remember just looking around and soaking in the environment once more. Familiar containers lined up row by row, the tent now without a separation area (where I had taught yoga and had chai with teens in the past) catching my eye, sand and gravel crunching under my feet. Stepping into the office, it was so nice to see Amber (my fellow shift leader) again and give her a big hug.
It wasn’t really until the usual 13:30 meeting that our presence was noticed by camp residents. A few had done double-takes and said hi as they walked past, likely recognizing me because I am one of the few East Asian volunteers that have been with Project Elea. At the meeting, some of the kids came by and called out my name, eagerly running in for a hug and a kiss. They then ran off to notify other kids that I was back, and soon enough a mini swarm came over (causing a bit of a disruption during the meeting in the process).
I can’t convey how satisfying it was to have my name remembered — whether it was as Rebekah or Rabbit or Ebekah (where is the R??) or China (sigh), all were comforting in their own way.
As the day went by and I discussed plans with the coordination team, met new volunteers, saw the shiny new Elea House and upcoming library, and managed the window at dinner, more and more reunions took place. I was able to meet the newborn in a Pakistani family that I have grown close to. I gave big hugs to my Iranian, Syrian, Moroccan, and Afghan resident volunteer friends, former yoga students, and former English students. I bought a falafel at the usual falafel place in Camp 1, which now also has frappes. I was sassed at dinner by the usual sassy resident. I played with my beloved toddlers, admiring their increased English vocabulary in the few months since June. I was asked repeatedly if I was married because I wear a gold ring on my right ring finger (a gift from my grandmother), a question that was also asked many times before. I was hit on the nose by a naughty Afghan boy who does that whenever I walk by. And to wrap up the day, I had an Alfa (Greek beer) at Monastiraki.
While I wasn’t excited to be back, I am now once again, fully immersed in camp life. I am consumed by ideas to improve the standard of living, constantly thinking of miscellaneous errands to be done, worrying over certain families, and already contemplating what it would be like to stay on for a longer term. When I’m passionate about something, it is all-consuming.
Part 2
What has changed since Week 1 ended? Well, five more weeks have since elapsed, and things have been busier than ever. Here’s a brief summary:
Shift leading has been an interesting, fulfilling, and sometimes challenging responsibility. As shift leaders, we open/close the office, manage and keep an eye on the day’s activities, and act as a link between volunteers and coordinators. There were two weeks during which several of the coordinators went on holiday, and Amber and I had to scramble to work things out with a very small team. I’ve had my share of slip-ups, which I think manifest because I’m too eager to help with everything that I’m asked to help with. I’m not great at saying no because I genuinely have too many interests and feel as if I can do it all, and I’m not good at taking days off either. I’m acutely aware of all this, yet continue to act in this way. Here’s to fixing this in the weeks to come!
Green Streets! I’ve definitely been employing my urban planning and public engagement experience to revamp this activity. We’re just about done with our series of pop-ups around the camp, in which we invite residents for tea (a nice role reversal, as we are always invited by them) and engage them in conversation about how they would change their street. I’ve really enjoyed planning and implementing this initiative, as it gives us a chance to really listen to what people have to say, and let them know that their opinions matter. What I love about Project Elea is that this kind of initiative is possible. We are able to give fellow humans dignity and agency, and not normalize camp life in such a way that people become resigned to living in a community of a certain quality; rather, they can mobilize and change their situation for the better. Even if this is a temporary home, it is worthwhile to make it beautiful.
The Pop-Up campaign is the lead-up to upcoming street meetings where we will ask residents to either come up with a unified concept for their street, let us pick one for them, or go on with individual container adjustments. The first choice would be ideal, as it reflects the same sort of unity and creativity that the original Green Street embodies, and is the most empowering and inclusive!
Cookbook! This is something we’ve been talking about since around the time I left camp in June. We are going to be interviewing different residents, recording their recipes, taking photos, and getting their stories and cultural heritage out to YOU, hopefully in a few months!
Once again, I am the Project Elea Photographer. It’s exciting getting to capture our events and daily activities from behind the camera lens. I also get lots of requests (especially from teen boys…) to take suave profile shots whenever people notice I have my camera out. I’ve also been taking photos for some partnerships/grant applications, which leads me to…
Grants and Partnerships! I’m helping with some applications and reaching out to organizations/individuals to explore different avenues of funding. This takes away from my time spent in activities at camp, which I need to learn how to balance.
Yoga! I taught for a month, but have since passed on responsibility to another volunteer. A little bittersweet, but I can’t keep the joy of teaching yoga all to myself!!
We’re at a point in the camp’s life in which it feels like more people that I know from my first time here are starting to move on, whether back to their home country or on to other European countries or to other accommodations in Athens. It’s bittersweet saying goodbye, especially to those who have volunteered with us. I’ve said three of these goodbyes now in the last five weeks to friends moving on to France and Germany. I’ll certainly make an effort to visit them all someday!!
And of course, how could I neglect to mention the cat, Cat. Officially his name at the camp according to the kids is Tom, and according to Selena is ET, and according to Emily is Cloud, but to me, cat is Cat or Baby. This isn’t out of some fear of attachment or desire to keep a distance, but because I think in the Cheng family we have a habit of calling our pets what they are. We’ve referred to our guinea pigs as Pig, even when they have names (Peach, Baby (which, similarly, was named Baby because we couldn’t decide on a name), and Peanut).
Long story short, Cat was being mistreated at camp by probably-well-meaning children who didn’t know how to look after a cat. I decided to take him home with us after he showed up at the office door one night with an injured ear. Since then (with a few hiccups), he’s been mostly sleeping with me, sometimes well (he likes cuddling next to my face), sometimes slashing at my arm in a random fit (after which I kick him out, or kick myself out and sleep on the couch).
This update is fairly surface level. Maybe I’ll write something that really dives into what/how I’m feeling, but that will take more hours than I have to spare! To conclude, here are some more random photos of life here.
Until the next update,
- R
