Final Note

It is now Sunday and it has been a couple of days since I posted. I worked Thursday, Friday and a double shift on Saturday.  Tomorrow I leave to go down to Mitylene to await the ferry at 8:00 pm.  I might spend part of the day at the community center run by Opertion Mobilization to create a haven for Refugees waiting during the day for the ferry at night.  It is always great to hear thier stories because it makes what is going on real and honest.

I have really come to appreciate the people I have had an opportunity to serve with.  I will not mention any names or organizations.  But they have all  impacted me because of thier heart for people.  I didn’t say thier heart for missions.  I am seeing more and more that the idea of missions is great for bringing the Gospel message to the world.  But sometimes I think it can overshadow the heart of the Gospel message itself and our example from Jesus.  It’s all about bringing God’s love and compassion to people.  The volunteers here don’t see the refugees as a target group to evangelize.  Instead they see people who need our compassion and our help.  The extension of God’s grace through us will create a hunger to know and understand that grace.  Imagine the impact on someone who has traveled over rough mountains, through hostile territory (refugees are killed on thier way here) and across the Agean Sea(some of the boats capsizing are intentional).  Then they arrive on Lesbos.  They are pulled from the water, given food, dry clothes, a welcome and a place to stay.  They have been the recipients of these things, for the most part by volunteers.  A very powerful section of scripture highlights the nature of the righteous.

Matthew 25:31–40 “When the Son of Man comes in His glory, and all the holy angels with Him, then He will sit on the throne of His glory. All the nations will be gathered before Him, and He will separate them one from another, as a shepherd divides his sheep from the goats. And He will set the sheep on His right hand, but the goats on the left. Then the King will say to those on His right hand, ‘Come, you blessed of My Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world: for I was hungry and you gave Me food; I was thirsty and you gave Me drink; I was a stranger and you took Me in; I was naked and you clothed Me; I was sick and you visited Me; I was in prison and you came to Me.’ “Then the righteous will answer Him, saying, ‘Lord, when did we see You hungry and feed You, or thirsty and give You drink? When did we see You a stranger and take You in, or naked and clothe You? Or when did we see You sick, or in prison, and come to You?’ And the King will answer and say to them, ‘Assuredly, I say to you, inasmuch as you did it to one of the least of these My brethren, you did it to Me.’ 

I believe that those I have served with truly understand the impact of these versus.  I want to thank them for thier heart and encoragement to me.

Many times when I am talking to the refugees they will ask me where I am from.  I will say America.  They will look very surprised.  They usually follow up with a question of why am I here. It is really kind of why are you here from America.  I give two reasons as straight forward as I can.  The first is this:

“I am here because of what God has done for me”

In order for them to truly understand my next response, I look them in the eye, I hold thier shoulders, hand or point to thier chest and say.  “I am here for you”.  This is followed by surprise and then appreciation.

Last night at about 10:00 pm activity at the clothing tent slowed down.  So I went and stood outside watching volley ball without a net and soccer in the “street”.  I was immediately offered a seat on a bench nearby by one of the men.  I thanked him and sat down.  He was there with some counsins, an aunt and uncle.  I can’t be sure but I think he was Lebonese from Syria. We had some small talk, which is what you have when one party doesn’t speak Arabic and the other only knows a little bit of English.  After a little while he left and I was joined by a man that traveled with a friend for 25 days from Afganistan.  He was a journalist.  He knew a lot more English.  Both of these gentlemen had noticed I had been there in the morning and was still there.  They expressed their appreciation.   One man walked up to me and send do you want some tea.  I hesitated because I was trying to understand why he was offering that to me a stranger.  I said yes and could it be unsweetened (which is kind of a special order).  He went over to the tea tent and got me tea.  Then sat down with us.  This man really didn’t speak any English except “Tea” with an implied “?”.  So he sat thier for a while in silence.  Both of us sharing a desire to communicate.   After a while he took out his phone and wanted to show me a music video of his favorite Pakistani vocalist. I listened since that’s all I could do.   I found that a lot can be conveyed with non-verbal communication.  Despite the UN being uptight about respecting cultural norms.  I have found the people I have interacted with very comfortable with physical touch.  A hand shake or a hand on the shoulder.  And know one takes offense when I say I will pray for thier journey.   As I walked out of the camp last night one man called to me “God go with you” in Arabic.

This time here has been the seed that is planted in many of these people’s hearts.  Pray for those who will water and care for them so that they can know Jesus as savior.

Shoes

There was one word that was both spoken to me and I have spoken to others more times than any other word.  It appears that this word is universally known in Pakistan, Afganistan, Iraq, Iran, Syria and almost anywhere in the world.  It is not "Coke Cola", "Hello" or "Coffee".  It will surprise you to know the word is "Shoes".  My assignment today was at the beginning of the line where people would walk up to join the line for the clothing tent.  Actually there are 2 lines.  One for single men and one for families or single women.  Actually a rough line is formed in the street waiting to join the line to the clothes tent. I first check the wrist bracelet where we mark ER for EuroRelief.   Meaning that they have already been to the tent.  If they haven't been and there is room in the line for single men, I send them forward.  If there isn't any room I have the ask them to wait on the road (not really a road, but a broad through fare with services on either side and a constant flow of refugees moving about the camp).  With wet pants and shoes (or not shoes) everyone is anxious to move from the road to the line for the tent.  It can result in pushing and shoving.  This requires gracious and disarming authority.  There is sometimes resistance, but when I insist everyone move back they do and then they apoligize for thier behavior with the hand on the heart bow.   When it comes to the families especially with children I am again faced with the same dilemma I had at the end of the line going into the tent.  How big is your family?  Are they all here?  I again might need to have the men move back and to the side to let a family through.  As before the hand puppet sometimes makes an appearance to calm the kids or distract them from all that is going on around them.  Even the young teenagers are amused.  Actually everyone is amused as the men look at me and wonder what planet I am from.  Here is the man who made them move back and he now playing with the kids with a hand puppet.  I try to shake hands with all the men and greet them.  They seem genuinely surprised.  The families know I am trying to be sensitive to thier needs and when I call attention to them being together as a family they are appreciative and proud.   A received some appreciative comments from the volunteers for the duffel of clothes provided by Calvary Bible Church.  The Nike stuff really solicited some comments.  It is a genuine need to have the clothes and shoes.  I know the refugees are not fully aware that these are donated clothes from individuals so sometimes they think they can ask for something different.   I will tell you one story.  I was fitting a young man for pants.  After bringing up a pair too small and then too large, I went back to the bin and dug out a pair of sweatpants.  The pants were a grayish color with a black and white graphic of action comics.  I knew it would fit him, but as I walked toward him I could see the familiar look of I am not thrilled to wear what you are about to give me.  So as I walked up I said "Wow!! Look what I found!!,  You are going to look so cool walking around the camp in these, everyone in the camp will be making a bee line here to see if we have anymore.  But you will have the only pair!!,  So you are good??".  He didn't understand my words but he got my meaning anyway.  He looked a little confused but took the pants and left.  He could have put those pants on and waited for his to dry and then switch and got rid of them.  However 2 days later I am walking through the camp and he is standing with some other men and still wearing them.  I walked up and pointed out his pants, with a look of "see??".  He grinned from ear to ear and the others had a good chuckle.

So let me end with the shoes.   We do not have men's shoes.  If we ever get them they are in such high demand, that they are gone in an hour.  Many men will get dry pants, shirts, socks and even a jacket.  But no shoes.  So all day long they come back to the tent walk up to me, point to their feet and say "Shoes?  Shoes?? Shoes?".   I say "no shoes, no shoes" with various hand gestures indicating no or none.  For each person they will go back and forth 2 or 3 times this way.  I had to tell this to about 100 men. They are convinced I have shoes and am holding out on them.  They have been told that maybe later so the same will return 2 hours later.  I say maybe tomorrow.  It is hard and frustrating.  If you hike 2 months from Afganistan, Pakistan or even Sri Lanka ride across the Agean in a water swamped boat you shoes are not in the best of state.  So with the echo of "shoes Shoes" rattling in my head please pray that we will receive more shoes especially for men. Also pray for my final days here.  I work Friday and Saturday.  I actually plan on working double shift Saturday so that I have a chance to walk around during my unscheduled shift so I can talk more at length with people.

24 Hours at Skala Skimmea

Tuesday morning arrived at Skala Skimmea at 7:30 AM, a stage 2 camp pretty much run by Operation Mobilization.  There is a doctors tent operated by WAMA (World Wide Access to Medical Advances). There is a tent operated by Samaritans Purse for blanket/sleeping bag distribution.  It appears that all the Samaritans Purse volunteers are Greek.  Aside from that there was just the 4 OM volunteers for food distribution, bus ticket management, coordination of refugees through the camp.   When we arrived we got the run down from the previous shift and became oriented to the layout and how the refugees would progress through the camp.  There is a stack of pallets at the corner of the parking lot where you can stand and look out over the Agean to see if any boats are arriving.  We could see 2 off in the distance. We then cleaned up the kitchen and sat down to visit.  I was with one of the volunteers I had worked with before from Switzerland, the shift leader was from South Africa and the other volunteer was a young man from Germany.  This was his first shift after arriving the day before.  We spent the morning catching up on our various backgrounds, christian faith and the refugee situation.  Meanwhile a Bulgarian lady from Samaritans Purse and the Greek Lady from UNHCR made us lunch.  It was quite involved and included rice, green bell peppers, tomatoes, chick peas and raisens (maybe more but I am not sure).  With only 7 of us in total at the camp they made enough for 20 people.  They said they wanted to cook for us in celebration of women's day. They served us large portions that I we really struggled to finish.  Afterwards we cleaned up. Since there no refugees in camp we all layed down for a nap.  I only napped about 20 minutes.   I was going to walk down to the beach to the stage 1 stations.  After zig zagging down hill at an incredible angle for 15 minutes I realized I was still a long way up from the beach and would not be able to get back quickly to the camp in case we started receiving refugees.  I then hiked back up and started talking to the other volunteers.  We had various groups come through the camp.  One was an international immigration board of about 15 people from various European countries.  Then some French journalist trying to unravel how the various organizations work together operating the camp.  Then people from the Danish Red Cross.  They're workers have been here over 6 months and they are trying to determine if they still need to be here.  Our shift leader who is in charge of the camp shows them around and explains how everything works. 

In the picture the refugees enter from the left, on the table will be bottles of water, figs and bananas.  As they move down th line on the right they will recieve blankets or sleeping bags, at the end there will be small table for bus tickets and the large tent at the end is where they can wait inside on benches and cots, to the left of the big tent is a large open area with benches and place to wait outside. This video will give you a better sense of what it is like in Skala Skimmea.  Who will remember?   Around 4:30 we start receiving refugees up from the beach a van full at a time.  We move to our various stations.  Food table, blanket distribution, bus ticketing, etc.  I follow the folks in the lead through the the process.  They almost walked right past the big tent expecting to board the buses for the next part of the trip.  I explained they needed to wait and it could take awhile.  I had to move to the exit gate to keep people in (technically they can exit if they want and start walking).  But after directing them to signs they start to understand they might be there a while.  The camp is actually a soccer field that was donated by the town.  So it actually has a high fence surrounding it.  This is not meant to keep the refugees in, but they might not know that.  I am really at the back gate to keep little kids wandering off into the countryside.  After a while there is about 40 refugees in the camp.  After a couple of hours they realize they are going to be there a while and frees me from the back gate.   They also understand the layout and they need to keep an eye on their children.  As it turns out we have been asked to keep them overnight because Camp Moria is full. So one of the workers starts making Lentil Soup in a 35 gallon pot over a propane burner.   A Greek priest came to visit us. He actually grew up in California, but has lived on Lesbos for about 12 years.  We had a great conversation about God's grace, caring for people and the refugee situation. He has been involved working in the camp with our shift leader since last summer.  After hearing my story that I had a great uncle who was a priest on the island, he offered to research church records for me to see if there are family on the island. At 10:00 the generator was turned off and the camp got real quite. I was used to being at camp Moria where  people are awake walking around all night long.  But at Skala Simmea it is lot smaller, plus this was only a single group they must have been exhausted they went right to sleep and we didn't see any of them until 7:30 the next morning.  One of the structures on the left of the picture above has cots for the volunteers.  I think I was able to get 6 hours sleep.  When we got up at 6:00 am we started really cleaning up the kitchen area (getting rid of cooked food from the past 2 days) making a vat of oatmeal, making another large pot of refugee tea (3 kilos of sugar per pot). After our relief shift arrived we left at 8:00 am and drove down to the beach where the boats land.  There are still lots of remnants of black rubber rafts (the rubber looks flimsier then an inner tube) littering the beach for the next 10 kilometers. This morning at 10:00 am the Operation Mobilization team got together at an apartment in downtown Molyvos, for coffee (what a treat), pastry, juice, fruit, cheese, bread, fellowship, singing, sharing and prayer.  There was 4 Americans, 2 Germans, 1 Greek and 1 Dutch.  Prayer time everyone prayed in thier own language. Even though it lasted over 2 hours it was a really encouraging time.  The rest of the day I have off.  My next shift is Thurday during the day.  God Bless, til then.     

The Weekend

Well it's hard to keep it straight, but here is the update the past couple of days. Thursday night we met as a group (about 25) at the Belvidere Hotel for prayer and study time.  I offered to do the message, which meant I guess I volunteered for the whole thing.  Since I wasn't there for the previous meeting, I wasn't sure what was expected.  Anyways I did a kind of message/study/discussion time around Matt. 5:43-48.  Praise God it went really well, with lots of involvement from a group that consisted mostly of people young enough to be my kids. On Friday I was off.  I spent a couple of hours talking to a young man from Estonia in the common room.  I thought he was a volunteer with one of the Christian organizations, because that is all I have met so far at the hotel.  Well it turned out he is not a Christian.  He is not sure if he believes in God.  He had a lot of questions and was eager to get together again.  I tried to bring the conversation back to a personal level but he kept wanting to discuss broader issues.  I am hoping before this week is out to be able to see him again. Later I walked down to Molyvous and greeted the owner of Nadia's apartments who we got to know when Cheryl and I were here 2 years ago.  It was good to see her, but caught her at a busy time.  If you ever find yourself visiting Lesbos be sure to go to Molyvos and stay at Nadia's apartments.  I continued through town and walked out to the breakwater.  Every way you turn you see the castle, the beautiful Agean sea, the Turkish coastline and the mountains of Lesbos.  It is breathtaking and difficult to capture in pictures. On Saturday my shift was moved from first shift to second shift (we leave the hotel at 2:30 pm and are back by 1:00 am)because some of the volunteers were sick, well it turned out they went anyways.   Good thing because we were pretty much busy the first 5 hours.  I brought a hand puppet with me.  I spent most of the time managing the line getting into the clothing tent.  As I said before it's a great time to just "talk" to the refugees. I usually ask them where they were from and where they are going.  Lots of answers on where they were from Afganistan, Pakistan, Iraq, Iran, Sri Lanka, Syria, etc. Whenever there was a family with little kids the hand puppet would make an appearance.  The kids would really get excited, sometimes the very little ones looked a little concerned.  This would also break the ice with the parents.  Part of the job was to figure out who to let into the clothing tent.  Really gets crowded with 6.  So the challenge looking at the line is to figure out where one family ends and the next one begins.  Some families have 2 parents, 4 kids, a brother and a mother of one of the parents.  Need lots of hand diplomacy when you try to send in only part of the familiy.  They are excited to let you know who is in thier family. When it quieted down later in the night I went for a walk around the compound.  Two men in their late 20s came up to me and thanked me for the work we are doing there.  They are surprised to find out we are volunteers that have come from other countries to help.    When asked about where they are going, they either didn't understand my question or they are not sure where they are going after this.  I let them know I would pray for thier safe journey. After a short night of sleep I joined others for a trip down to Mytiline for church service.  A lot like my CBC family except add 2 violins and a ukulele to the praise team, mix in Greek, English and Greek/English choruses.  After the message the pastor whose name is Philemon (like the book of the Bible) asked me to pray.   He hadn't met me and did not know who I was.   Following his line of sight I knew there wasn't someone 7 foot tall standing directly behind me.  After my initial shock I prayed.  What a privilege.

After some of us went out for lunch and took the coastal route back to the hotel.  This got us back around 5:00 PM.  With us was a young man who was a refugee from Afganistan 2 years ago.  Shortly after his arrival he became a Christian and arrived yesterday excited to tell the other refugees about Jesus. He speaks Farsi, Arabic, Greek, Russian and English.   There were some mixup on his sleeping arrangements so I offered for him to share my room for the night, but I suspect it might be a permanent arrangement while I am here.  We joined the larger group down at the Belvidere Hotel for evening praise and worship time. Today is Monday.  I had breakfast over at another hotel with Euroreleif the umbrella organization that all the Christian organizations operate under here.   Then went and dropped off my laundry.  It is now 11:00 with no specific plans for the day, except rest.  There is a prayer meeting tonight and then Tuesday I have a 24 hour shift at a stage 2 camp.  Right close to where boats land at Skala Skimmea.  This camp is run by EuroRelief the umbrella organization for the Christian groups operating here.  The place I have been working at is Camp Moria. It is a stage 3 camp.  At camp Moria the Tea Tent, Clothing Tent and Family Compound is staffed by Christian organizations. God is so good.  I am guessing it will be a couple of days before I can get internet access again. Hoping to have more stories at that time.

The Walk

Well at this point I have been doing a lot of writing and you have been doing a lot of reading. So now going to switch to showing some pictures from a walk I took today.  I think I covered about 4 miles up into the countryside. Molyvous and the castle dominate the view as I head out on my walk.

Why do I feel compelled to take pictures of VW busses, it must be the wandering hippie in me.

A fellow traveler he appeared not to be moving very fast, but he must have known a short cut because when I got to the end of my walk he was nowhere to be found.

I am hoping I am on the right trail, since there aren’t any signs along the way except this one.

You can see the trail I took up here leading down to the right toward the coast.

My intent was not to find the dump for the life jackets as I headed up into the hills, but there it was along with a boat graveyard.

I can’t imagine relying on this for your kid as you cross the Agean sea.

In the center of this picture is the place I am staying.

Well I have tons more pictures but I will spare you until I get home.   I will finish with this other companion I met a long the walk.  You can see the Agean Sea and Turkey in the background.

Contact

I would like to share just one incredible story that really was a culmination of a spiritual journey for me over the past couple of years.  

In preparation for going on this trip many have asked how can I communicate the gospel message if I don't speak the language.  I didn't have an exact answer, but it didn't bother me because if God has called me then He will work it out.  I don't want to be glib about this, I have been frustrated by my desire to communicate to others in thier language.  But it just isn't going to happen. I have a language learning disability (not a clinical diagnosis) but an observation from being in Germany for 3 years and having a 30 word vocabulary, let alone a total lack of being able to pronounce the words I do know so that someone could understand me.  On my trip to Tanzania it took me 3 days to be able to memorize in Zwahili  "I baptize you in the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit" in order to baptize 28 candidates.  

I determined that when I get here I would communicate my love and compassion through non verbal communication.  Not just acts of kindness and but somehow the ability to convey through listening, contact and prayer.  This was all vaguely in my mind in the days of prayer leading up to my trip.

On Wednesday night we arrived at the clothing tent in Camp Moria at about 11:00 PM.  One of the volunteers was a young lady from Switzerland (I will refer to her as SV Swiss Volunteer) serving her first shift after arriving the day before.  She asked about the WC which was on the other side of the camp.  I offered to walk with her, but she assured me she didn't feel unsafe.  I asked if she was sure, I actually just wanted to stretch my legs.  I didn't say this but she indicated it was ok to walk with her if I just wanted to get out and walk.  Long and short we set off for the WC.  When we got there I used the facility then came out to wait.  She mistakenly went into the shower part of the building.  She emerged to find the other place where the ladies go and was directed there by one of the refugees.  As I stood off in the distance this refugee woman than walked up to me, probably recognizing that both of us were wearing the EuroRelief yellow vests.  She engaged me in a conversation in Arabic.  At first I thought she might be asking for directions to family services or some other service in the camp.  Finally SV emerged and joined us.  Between the 2 of us we realized she wanted to know our names.  We exchanged names with her.  Then for the next 20 minutes she tried to communicate that she was there with her Familiy.  We thought at first she was talking about a friend, but in retrospect I thinking she was communicating she needed a friend.  She was excited to introduce us to her family.  

We walked over to where her family was in 2 small dome tents.  She had 3 boys, ages 6 - 12.  They were very polite and were excited to shake our hands.  We ended up sitting on a bench and having a "conversation".  She knew probably 30 words of English, 10 words of French.  SV knew a little French.  But I would say 95% of the communication was arm gestures, pointing and so forth.  This is the gist of what we were able to learn.  She was Lebonese married to a Syrian man.  Syria, Lebannon, and Iraq are no more because of bombs and I also assume because of the way she spread her arms and named some group, because of ISIS.  They have lost family and thier life back there is gone.  They are journeying on to eventually end up in France based on the registration papers they received at the camp.  We "talked" for over an hour.  SV was incredible in her perseverance to understand, express compassion and to interact with the kids.  At one point I felt compelled to offer to pray with this person.  I offered through hand gestures, but she really didn't understand.  After 5 minutes I needed to pray outloud for her anyways.  I asked for God's peace and comfort.  For a safe journey.  For protection for her family and for her to come to know of God's love and grace.  SV followed suit by also praying asking Jesus to be with her to love her and to give her strength in the days ahead.  There is no way she understood what we were saying except through the miracle of the Holy Spirit.  Yet by the time we were finished she was openly sobbing and the tears streamed down her cheeks.  After seeing that I was soon joining her as I tried to clear the tears from my eyes.  Being cautious of cultural norms SV offered her a hug.  She grabbed SV like a lifeline and held on for the next 5 minutes continuing to sob.  I was truly in the presence of God's Holy Spirit.

We sat there for a bit and then the shift leader who was first worried about where we were and that a group was soon to arrive from a boat came running down the hill.  I felt bad because it was her first shift as leader and there was only her and one other person.  We excused ourselves from the Lebanese lady and headed back to the clothing tent.  This night we had many families.  We had a little bit of a break from 1:00 - 2:30 but then many families came in.  Families take a lot longer as you are searching for both kids and adult clothes at the same time.  Even though we had lots of clothes we didn't have much variety of sizes even for the kids.  It was try this, try that.  We were busy all the rest of the night and when we left at 8:30 am there was still a line, even though our relief crew had been there since 7:30.  As I stated before it is difficult not being able to provide everything that they could use, but one of the great things of working the clothing tent is monitoring the line and letting people in as groups. It gives you a lot of opportunity to "talk" to the folks.  They like to ask questions and joke around.  They are interested that I am from America.  

Please continue to pray that I will be able to communicate in a way that demonstrates God's mercy and grace.

 I have the day off today and then a day shift tomorrow.  Hoping to be able to share more great stories.

Camp Moria - First Stop in Europe

I have a very powerful story to tell from my shift last night, but that will have to wait till tomorrow

 because many have asked and I promised I would tell you exactly what my responsibilities would be while I am here.  

There are 3 stages that a refugee goes through.  Stage 1 is rescue.  For many months this meant waiting for them to land on the beach or have thier boat/raft flounder.  In recent weeks the Greek coast guard and others are patrolling the waters and picking up refugees as soon as they are in international waters.   During stage 1 they are provided any immediate medical attention.  Where ever that may be they are than transported to stage 2.  This is where they are registered or given immediate care.  Immediate care is hot tea, Ramon noodles cup, blankets and dry clothes.  

Stage 2 is Moria Refugee Camp.  I hear there are other camps, but this is the official one as far as I can tell.  My first shift was Tuesday night from 11:00 pm - 8:00 am. It is roughly a 45 minute ride over curvy treacherous roads.  My driver an American youth, too young to be one of my kids, I think made it in 30 hair raising and frightful minutes.  The passenger was a young lady from Germany who drove us back the next day at only slightly manageable speeds.  

We parked about a kilometer from the camp in a dark side road.  As we hiked up the road and approached the camp gate (former prison facility), it was not the kind of place that you want to get your first impression of at night.  Large floodlight, lots of concrete, high steel fencing, barb wire and guards.  Further in large white tents, fabricated structures, small 3 person dome tents scattered about, bodies sleeping on the ground in every nook and cranny wrapped in wool blankets, groups of refugee men standing around.  A landscape recently bulldozed and concreted over for roads.  Terraces cut into the hill for more structures, with seperate compounds for single men and families.  

We reached a section with a "Tent" (prefabricated and assembled structure donated by IKEA) tea and Ramon noodles, another "Tent" for blankets (and non food items), and a third tent for dry clothes.  They will typically follow through these tents in sequence, but if the lines get long they might switch from the tea tent to the dry clothes tent first.

My group is assigned to the dry clothes tent.  After getting oriented to the layout the previous shift leaves.  There are not refugees to serve at this time and it is expected to be a quite night.  The shift leader and the other helper set up cots in the very back to catch some sleep.  I keep watch outside.  I am given a mobile phone on which common messages are shared to about boats sited and thier progress to the camp, so that we can be ready.  At 1:00 am we are joined by 3 more volunteers who joined the others on cots in the tent (2 15' by 50' structures joined together).  I continue to wait outside.  At about 2:00 am one of the volunteers a young lady from Wisconsin? I think joins me and we talk about how and why we are here.  A common conversation when meeting a volunteer.  At about 3:00 am we are alerted that 66 refugee men who are wet are being brought in.  We awake the other volunteers to get ready.

Our tent is well stocked with donated clothes, with the exception of men's underwear and shoes.  The pants for everyone don't come in very accomadating sizes.  None of clothes are what you would want to be seen in.  The point is to have the refugees get into something that is dry and the next day they can dry thier clothes in the sun.  Soon the line is formed.  We let them into the tent 3 at a time and attempt to find them pants, sometimes shirts, a jacket and socks.   You only get something if it's wet or missing.  Many will try to get an upgrade for a worn jacket that isn't wet.  If they have wet shoes we give them socks and cut up space blankets to stuff between the sock and shoe.  The process is chaos because of the language barrier and the refugees thinking they might be getting better clothes than what they have.  Some even shed thier jackets outside, trying to game the system.  A few make it difficult for the rest and the volunteers.  

I did get about a 1/2 sleep between the first group and another that arrived about 5:30.  As we left during the daylight things looked less onimous.  Some of the refugee men in line for clothes and as I walked around the next day tried to engage me in conversation as best they could with 20 words of English and my 0 words of Arabic.

That's it.  That's what I am doing physically while here.  Tomorrow what is happening spiritually.