anettes blog – on the road

refugees and migrants telling their stories


3 kommentarer

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She sits there in the green iglo tent smiling so friendly and she invites me, and I take a seat in the tent opening on the stone floor only covered with the usual grey blanket from UNHCR. A constant blowing fan provides a bit of fresh air inside the sultry heat in the tent. Two children are lying sleeping. The two month old baby boy is wrapped in a blanket tired up with a ribbon, so that he can not move his arms, only the head is free – to save his energy, I have been told. There are no mattresses to rest on at night, only the stone floor and the UNHCR blanket.

Soon winter will come, and I know of private donations, so that the 400 refugees living in this old school in the middle of Athen do not have to sleep directly on an icy floor, but will get mattresses.

I am looking at the broken windows, hoping they will be repaired.


But now we are in September, and during daytime it is more than 30 degrees. Athen is exhausting hot, and this classroom even worse. In an attempt to cool down the room the balcony door and windows are wide open. From outside the constant noise of a big busy city.

In this room where once were chairs and tables and laughing children there is now three igloo tents. No more laughing just waiting, sadness and passivity for the residents in the two green and one blue tent.

The tents leaves a little privacy to the three Kurdish – Syrian families, who lives here and who Amina is part of. For the last three month this has been their homes. Before arriving to the old school with the beautiful name Jasmin placed in one of the big city most poor areas, they stayed four month at Idomini in the north right at the border of Macedonia and Greece.


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But how did the families end up here in a tent in a classroom? One day as the Greek economic crisis grow deeper and deeper, Jasmin school was closed. Meanwhile refugees and migrants from all over the world started taking the small dangerous robberboats across the Aegean Sea from Turkey to the Greek island, before they continued their journey up north: To Germany, to Sweden, or Denmark or Norway.

In March Macedonia suddenly closed its borders to Greece – on demand of Austria – and 60.000 refugees and migrants got stucked in the country. Totally unprepared Greece had nowhere to place all these people, and they had to live in the streets. Five thousand people stayed for month on Port Piraeus, and another thirteen thousand were left in heavy rains, cold winds and mud in Idomini at the border.

While all this happened around them anarchists one night cut the bolt to the port of Jasmin school in Athen. They forced their way into the empty building, and refugees could move from their dangerous stay in the street into the classrooms.

At the border between Macedonia and Greece a pregnant Amina were living a hard and difficult life in the growing camp at Idomini. It was early spring. Cold winds were blowing, rain was pouring down and there was mud everywhere. Every morning Amina woke up hoping that this would be the day, where the border would open again. But the Greek police lost the patience before the refugees lost their hopes and one morning they cleared the camp. Amina and her family were taken by busses to Athen, and they ended up in Jasmine school.



Now the school is a squat like other occupied buildings in Athen, where refugees live. Jasmine is run down. The schoolyard is filled with graffiti. The staircase which lead to the first floor once an impressive winded staircase with the handrail of iron are curved with age. There are big holes in the doors into the classrooms as if somebody has tried to barge through, windows are broken, and paint is pealing of the ceiling. In the taps are only cold water, and the toilets are primitive, and there are too few for so many people.


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In contrast to the official camps all the squats are self supported, and live off donations. The four hundred Syrians living on the Jasmin school gets a simple meal twice a day. One day, when I was there, breakfast was a bread, some feta cheese and half a cucumber each person. Despite the simple and monotonous food, everybody find it much better than the military food in the official camps. Breakfast is served between 12 and 13, and the next meal is in the evening. Vegetables, fruit, bread, everything is bought, where the price is best and cooking goes on in huge pots in the schoolyard.

Amina fled Syria with her husband, his three brothers, her two sisters in law and their children. The families social lives goes on between the tents, on the UNCHR blankets, or where ever there is a small space. One is supposed to take off the shoes, before walking on the blankets, so it becomes like a small sitting room. Against a wall a refrigerator. Next to an old stove. One of the brothers sits with his back turned to the room concentrating on something on the computer. The corners are the wardrobe, and the balcony the drying place. All clothes are being washed either in cold water in a big mable wash in the schoolyard or in the only washing maschine n the cellar.

Amina and her family have escaped the war in Syria – leaving their homes because of bombs and Daesch, she tells me in finger language. Anima detests Daesch. I can see it on her smiling face as it grows with contempt, as soon as she just mentions the word Daesch.

She asks me, where I come from and I say Denmark and she gets hope in her eyes and ask me to take her with back home. She does not like being in Greece, she tells me.

I can not take her with to Denmark, and she knows it and we just smile at each other and again we admire her baby. One of her sisters in law turns up. She looks very young, but she is pregnant. After a while another woman arrives to the tent, dressed all in black and also pregnant. She is upset by something I do not really understand, only that it has something to do with a visit to the hospital. A few days later when I go to see the families again, she has a very small baby, obviously born too early.

One of the men arrives to our gathering in the tent door, and when he is told, where I come from, he takes his telephone. By the help of google translate he tells me that his family has their first interview on the 15. of February.

-A long time, he tells me using Google Translate, and he makes a gesture against the small tents.

The interview is what all refugees her in Greece are waiting for. The interview for asylum in the Greek asylum office. But it takes ages. First – in spring – everybody had to contact the office on a Skype call just to be registered as asylum seekers in Greece. For month 60.000 stranded refugees were trying to get through, but only very few succeeded. It turned out that the office only had one person to receive the calls. When EU made the controversial deal with Turkey they promised to send 2500 staff to Greece to help the Greek people manage the situation, but very few of these people actually turned up.

Everybody have to pass the two interviews, before they will know their future: If they get asylum in Greece, if they are to be deported back to Turkey or their homeland, or they are one of the very few lucky families, who get resettled somewhere in Europe. Meanwhile they are just waiting – with nothing to do. All are living in a limbo – with depressions and in passivity. Only a few of the many refugeechildren all over Greece go to school.

Before I leave, I am told that the family comes from the same village in Syria, and that the sleeping boy in the tent has lost his mum and a sister in a bomb attack in Syria one year ago.

The father of the boy comes along. He smiles as he stands there outside the tent door for a short moment, before he leaves again.

They smile a lot in this family, perhaps to keep the total breakdown away.

Amina is not called Amina in real life. In order to protect the refugees she is made anonymous.



Forfatter: Flugtens ansigt

Jeg er freelancejournalist og fornylig gået på efterløn. Det har givet livet nye muligheder. Somrene tilbringer jeg på smukke Bornholm. Vintrene et sted ude i verden: Marokko, grænselandet mellem Thailand og Myanmar, Bali, Borneo eller et sted i Europa. Netop nu står Europa over for en af sine største flygtningekriser, og jeg vil bruge efteråret og vinteren 2015/16 til at sætte ansigter på denne humanitære tragedie. Jeg vil rejse i Grækenland, hvor mange flygtninge og immigranter første gang sætter foden på europæisk jord, og jeg vil senere tage til Jordan, et af de nærområder, der huser rigtig mange syriske krigsflygtninge.


  1. Hi Annette! Thank you for this ipressing story.. My name is Rosa and I visited Jasmine-School myself, in October, because of a private research I wanted to find out, what young people in Greece think about the EU and how they are involved in their society. Sadly I had no camera with me and I am now rewriting my diary and a research for the orginisation I got the travel-grant from and I would really like to add some pictures. Could I use some of yours? Of course I would write that you shot them. The one from the yard and the one with the tents would be great. The paper I write and the diary will not be published, it’s onle for the jury. You would do me a great favour, thanks!
    Keep up the good work anyways and all the best!


    • Hi Rosa,thank you very much. Unfortunately my english writing is not as good as my Danish, but still I try.

      Off course you can take the pictures. They are not very good, taken with my Mobilephone. As you might know, it is very difficult to take pictures in the squats and camps in Greece now.

      If you give me your mailadress, I can send the pictures to you. I can send you some more, if you want. I am very interested in the message getting spread. I have some from Skaramangascamp too. If they are going to be published, I would like to know, since I am careful, which pictures I publish regarding the refugees.

      I would appriciate, if you write my name. If they in anyway are going to be published, I would like to know, and get payed – if you get payed.

      I am going to Athen in January for another two month.

      Best regards


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