Alleluia!
brings us together
Alleluia!
in Farsi, French or English
in morning prayer or evening prayer or Sunday Mass
Alleluia!
makes us one
Author: frank
Visiting the Hospital
In our first week here, Sr. Sheena and I have visited the hospital three times. We visit refugees from the Jungle who are in the local French hospital for treatment or recovery. In our initial visit together mid-week, it was enjoyable to work together but language was a problem. Neither of us speak Arabic, Farsi or Urdu the native languages of the patients. Sr. Sheena can speak with some Afghans based on her native language, Hindi. It was uncomfortable for me, but also for the patients as we learned in our third visits on Saturday. Today we split into teams with me visiting five patients with Babak, a Farsi speaker, and Abrahim who could speak Arabic. Sr. Sheena went with Bakree to visit five predominantly Sudanese Arabic speakers.
During today’s visits when someone speaking their native tongue was in the room, communication was much improved and we more clearly understood why the patient was hospitalized. Two patients have new cases of Lyme disease and cannot walk. Another Afghan had his hip bone torn from its socket in an attack by Taliban in his home country. He is still undergoing treatment away from his four children, two sets of twins ages 2 and 3. Another young Egyptian has cancer in the bone of his hip, a Sudanese has a nonmalignant tumor that is causing pain in his stomach and leg. One man is still recovering from a compound fracture of his leg in a major riot that happened at the Jungle May 27th.
All of those we visit so far are Muslim. We tell them we pray for them. In return we are given their hand over their heart. We give them a piece of chocolate, fresh fruit, shoes and tee shirts when requested and even take clothes home to wash for them. Today especially, it was clear that they enjoyed the chance to speak to someone who understood them.
As we walk through the halls, we can almost tell a refugee’s room because the door is usually closed. They are not sleeping or having treatments, they cannot communicate well with strangers and don’t like some of the looks they get from those passing by in the halls. Much of France is on vacation in August and many have not seen their doctors in weeks. Two of the patients I visited today will be taken to Lille this week to see specialists there.
Hospitalization is never easy but is especially hard on those who are alone in a strange country. This problem is doubled when they do not know what is really wrong with them or have no idea how long it will be until they are released. On top of that they worry about where they will go when they are released. The young Afghan father told us he cannot sit on a normal toilet with his rebuilt hip. How can he go back to the Jungle, equipped only with Porta-Pottys when released?
Sr. Sheena signed up to make dinner for today. We shopped after the hospital visits and prepared a meal of pasta with zucchini, eggplant, mushrooms and peppers in tomato sauce, grated Parmesan cheese, with a large green salad with tomatoes, raisins, nuts, and bread. Have I mentioned we eat only vegetarian meals? I believe we fed 17 at the table for supper with left-overs for Sunday.
A Quieter Day
This was a much quieter day than the earlier days this week. Only three trips to the Jungle. And just a few observations.
The police have been targeting the “shops” on main street. A few weeks ago, the business owner from each shop was arrested and all the equipment confiscated. One shop a favorite of some of the Baptists visiting is owned by Hasheem, an Afghan who ran an Afghan food restaurant. Yesterday, his food, cooked and uncooked, was confiscated again. Today, when I entered the shop looking for our group members, I saw several of them, with the Baptists and some of the refugees playing a variety of games at the tables in the shop. Dominoes, and Uno were being played when I walked in. Jenny, a retired pastor’s wife had come with sewing machines to repair clothes and make alterations. She reported that the greatest demand was to turn baggy jeans into skinny jeans…which she was happy to do. The plan is to leave the machines in the hopes that some others would eventually take up the work when Jenny leaves tomorrow morning.
Mid-afternoon, Hasheem, who was not onsite appeared with stacks of Afghan bread still warm from the oven. He followed that up with plates of Afghan eggs…no charge. “Please to share”, he said.
After we left his shop a few doors down another Afghan stopped us to inquire of Brother Johannes, who wears a light blue habit, if he dressed like Jesus because he loved Jesus. Johannes agreed and the inquisitor suggested that the Afghans in traditional dress looked more like Jesus than did most Christians. Our new friend thought celibacy was unnatural and was insistent on engaging us in finding out what we knew about Islam, while sharing how they respected Jesus as a prophet and Mary as well. He went on to say we should believe in the last of the prophets, Mohammed. This was a discussion that could have gotten very heated but his questions and challenges were met with sincere listening and gentle responses. This was clearly a discussion that had no end in sight so we were thankful when it became necessary for us to move our minivan. Care for Calais, a non-profit had cleaned up a sandy soccer field and installed goals to have some serious play. Our van was where spectators would stand.
A final example of how this house is different. After dinner, Sheena and I were scheduled to clean the kitchen. It was hard to move in there because five others insisted on joining us. Neither of us ever got near the sink. As a dish was washed it barely touched the drying rack before someone grabbed it to dry it. Cleanup was done quickly and evening prayer was completed a little before 9. After a brief skype call with my lovely bride, we called it an early night.
One Day in our Week…
The days seem to be getting longer, not with the length of time we see the sun but the length of day we are engaged with the house community and, or, the refugees. Today started with waking early at 5 AM in a house with no electricity, no hot water for a shower and no chance to re-charge my electronics-clearly a first world problem. After morning prayer and breakfast we made the first of five trips for the day to the Jungle.
We stopped at the church where they asked for the gas that we promised to get for them, then off to where the Sudanese live in the camp. In both cases we were looking for translators who would allow Sr. Sheena and I to make more helpful visits to hospitalized refugees. While looking for one of the Sudanese, we asked others which tent belonged to Bakree but first, chairs were brought and coffee served with enough sugar to stand the spoon up. They would not eat their breakfast until we had our fill.
Bakree’s name was called out and soon we were invited into his tent. Shoes off at the door is the custom. This son of teachers who has studied in the university agreed to translate for us after completion of the theatre workshop he was enjoying that week courtesy of Secour Catholique. He also agreed to join us for dinner.
In what was our third trip to the camp we delivered the promised fuel and went to pick someone up at the PASS triage unit in the Jungle (there is also one at the hospital) where refugees are cleared for a trip to the hospital. We were to pick up one friend, but there was a line of folks waiting for a lift to the hospital. One of them had a doctor’s appointment in 15 minutes and it is at least a ten minute ride to the hospital. We loaded the van to its legal capacity and took off. Sheena and I made follow up visits with the refugees I had met on Tuesday. It was now early afternoon.
After returning to the house, Br. Johannes and I took a long “easy walk” to get some yogurt requested by the dinner cook, and for a phone for me. I have been the ” on call driver” without a working phone. There was another trip to the Jungle to bring our friend back to the PASS unit before guests began arriving for dinner.
And what a dinner! We had about 8 Sudanese for dinner and a few others as well as the 15 of us for a meal prepared by Abdullah who lives in the house. We had a wonderful philosophical discussion of the causes of inequality in the world initiated and led by Bakree who translated English to Arabic and vice versa.
The discussion and the meal that followed deserve its own post. Of course we prayed, Muslims and Christians together before the meal.
Every night this week has been an adventure for dinner. Monday’s gathering of the 14 of us at the table pales in comparison to the numbers, the fun and the sense of coming together shared each of the following nights.
Then we made our final trip of they day to the Jungle with its requisite inspection by from 2-10 armed police officers before we can enter. We have to put the signs in the window or don our Secour Catholic vests, stop, turn off the engine, present a letter saying I am authorized to drive the van and present my identity papers. The van is then inspected, plates compared to whatever database they use before we are allowed to proceed. You would think that after 5 trips in 1 day they would recognize us, but each time, the officers are different.
I only hope that at some moment the officers will realize what treasures they protect.
It was nearly 11 PM when Sheena and I returned to our rooms, exhausted but uplifted after another amazing day.
Anglican Bishop and Farsi Prayer
A big part of the planning for Wednesday was to prepare for the visit of Anglican Bishop Trevor of Canterbury who visited the house mid-day Wednesday with his wife, , and Rector Carolyne. He has been to the Jungle before and wants the church to do more to assist those in the camp.
One project he is focusing on is trying to send a pastor to work in Calais who will be half time in service to the refugees in the Jungle. This requires negotiation with the French bishop of the Anglican church here in Calais.
He recognizes the difficulty of working with the current government but will be urging parishioners in his region to do more for those refugees who do make it to England, especially the unaccompanied minors.
This meant two large meals were prepared for the day. One with the Bishop and one for the guests who came for Farsi prayer in the evening.
We drove to the Jungle to pick up women who would be joining us for Farsi Prayer on Wednesday evening, a regularly scheduled prayer time. There are Iranian Farsi speakers living in the house and the women who live in the women’s shelter part of the camp, a secured area, joined us.
Brother Johannes and Babak led us as we practiced Farsi songs which we accessed over the internet and we could read the anglicized words on the screen when the song was projected on the chapel wall.
You can listen to a little of the singing here. The song was beautiful, but my camera ran out of disk space so it ends abruptly.
Baptist Volunteers Visit Our House
Tuesday began with visits to refugees in the hospital. I shared the visits with Babak, a refugee who is a volunteer living in the house.
He also prepared dinner (for 28) and produced a movie about life in the Jungle https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tnze6Tt-nW0 shown in the evening meeting with 14 Baptist volunteers from the UK.
Sr. Sheena spent the day with refugee women at Secours Catholique (French version of Catholic Charities.) We closed the very late evening with cake to say goodbye to Maria a volunteer who left for a week in Taize before returning home to Romania to see her family. After that she will be re-starting school in Sweden.
Our First Dinner at Maria Skobtsova House
It was nearly 6 PM when we got back from the Jungle to begin preparations for dinner Monday evening. I was assigned to be assistant cook to Maria, but she switched with Brother Johannes and the two of us went shopping for the meal. The local Lido market was about 5 blocks away and we could choose from a fairly good and inexpensive variety of foods. Brother Johannes is vegetarian and that seems to be respected in how the house eats. We were accompanied on the trip to the market by Ibrahim a tall, smiling, young Syrian refugees who lives in the house and is working hard at learning his French.
On return to the house it was hard to find space to assist in the cooking since Ibrahim and Moein , took places at the table to help chop onions and garlic, grate carrots and make a salad. Lessons in Farsi were being given at the dinner table. Brother Johannes cooked the main meal, a layer of beans, peas, carrots and tomatoes cooked in a pan then into a baking dish. Eggs were put on top and the whole was baked until the eggs were cooked. This was Brother Johannes’ version of Afghan Eggs. It was served with a salad of lettuce tomatoes and onions. Shredded carrots were in a separate bowl as was the rice.
Fourteen of us squeezed around the large table. Seven volunteers and seven refugee-volunteers. Between us we spoke ten languages although, mercifully for me, the dinner conversation was primarily in English. The youth at the table was amazing. How long has it been since I was involved in “church work” where the people were not mostly older than I? Here, I am the eldest by at least 20 years.
Watch this video of all saying hello in their own languages!
The Tables Are Turned
We thought we came to Calais to show hospitality to the refugees encamped there. Tables were turned within the hour of our arrival at the Jungle.
The camp is as wretched looking as anything I have seen. Thousands of people, mostly young men, living under wooden shells, tarps, houses made of cardboard, and in tents. Space is tight and often the cause of disputes. We arrived with a minivan full of refugees from Secours Cathololique, where there is a drop-in center. We also transported a rebuilt bicycle donated to one of the men.
Our first stop was to park near the “church” a structure put together by Orthodox Christians to honor God with few resources but skill and love. Several women were praying and they all were fasting daily from midnight until 3 PM, from meat, cheese and milk in preparation for an upcoming Marian feast. The women all wore white knit shawls and hoods covering their heads as they prayed inside. The walls were tarps attached to the carpets below. Shoes were removed before entering. The walls were adorned with posters of icons duct taped to the tarp walls. But fine linens covered the altars, pulpit. Statues were also present, though not featured. We prayed, men to the left women to the right.
As we exited, we were invited to join the men is eating from a well work wok in which a combination of beans, onions and tomatoes had been prepared. We shared from a several loaves of bread, breaking off pieces to dip and eat. Before too long the wok was wiped clean of food. Two men who were deacons in the church invited us to afternoon tea at their home in the Jungle. We arrived to see them after touring other parts of the camp.
Brother Johannes, Sheena and I entered the section of the camp where several Eritrean and Ethiopian Orthodox church members lived. We had been invited for afternoon tea. The best chairs were given to us as guests while our hosts pulled up log stumps, chair frames with no seats and large water jugs to sit on. The table was set. A pan of food (beans, corn and onions) were brought out several loaves of French bread and a larger loaf of bread as well. They poured clean water and took turns washing ours and their hands. We were called to prayer. A small piece of bread was broken from the larger loaf and one piece given to each person to eat. The longer loaves of bread were broken into larger pieces and distributed for all to take and eat from the common plate by wiping the bread through the food and by scooping the food with the bread to gather even more. We ate until the food was gone. We prayed again. Tea was poured for all of us. And as we drank together I experienced a sacred moment, an overwhelming sense of mutual respect. I felt so humbled to be shown such respect by people who in so many of our countries are treated like pariahs.
There are none so blind as they who will not see. May God forgive us for ignoring the richness of people on whom we have turned our backs.
Arrived!
Sr. Sheena and I arrived at St. Maria Skobtsova House in Calais from our travels and a walk from the train station. The first ring of the doorbell brought no response proving momentary anxiety. The name of the house was in the window so we knew it was the right place. A second ring was answered by Maria, a Romanian volunteer social worker gaining experience for her advanced degree.
We had a pleasant conversation with Maria who filled us in on the workings of the house. She would be with us only a few days before her time was up and she returned home then back to school. Brother Johannes arrived, sweating in his blue habit as a member of the Good Shepherd Congregation.
We were quickly set up to stay in another studio apt. about 10 blocks away. Then we went for a walk with Brother Johannes to find some dinner.
Thank God for safe travel.
How do you do everybody, how do you do…?
This is the reincarnation of an earlier blog started in 2011. When the time comes, the older posts will be found under archives. The need to live nonviolently was brought home to me powerfully during the Chapter meeting of the Sisters of St. Joseph of Peace (CSJP) in 2008. Since then I have read a lot, joined a few groups, taken a few actions and generally tried to examine my life and daily actions in the light of the Gospel call to love one another as we want and deserve to be loved . We CSJPs even have a card to help us in that daily reflection.
There have been ups and downs, but a trip to Calais, France to live and work with refugees has been a reason to write again. If these ramblings are of benefit you can let me know. If not, I am sorry, but I needed to write them anyway.