Lifesavers

On Sunday 22 November I had lunch with the British volunteer D, one of the good friends I have made here. Such a warm, spontaneous person who radiates positive energy. I am sure we will keep in touch. I have made more friends on Lesvos in this month than in the past several years.

    I signed up for a shift at Eftalou. I wanted to go there anyway, to speak to the British artists Eric and Philippa Kempson, who have lived on Lesvos for 16 years. I had bought some medical and other supplies I wanted to leave in their storage area, and I also wanted to buy some of their beautiful products. Before leaving the house I called Spiros, the leader of the Hellenic Lifeguards, and agreed to meet him at Eftalou to talk about their work.

    In principle the Eftalou shift means standing by in case of boat arrivals, and helping people to board the bus to Oxy. But there was a strong south wind, so we were not expecting any boats. The engines on the little dinghies cannot cope with a stiff southerly wind, which would simply blow the boats right back to the Turkish coast.

    The artist couple live in an atmospheric cottage in secluded surroundings down a path leading away from the beach road, with a little artists' studio and shop. Philippa had visitors, and someone had brought cake. We sat around a table in a rather English way with tea and cake, on a small veranda. The house used to have a very spacious veranda, but that is now full of shelves of clothes and other items for the refugees. The couple's entire life has been turned upside down. It was over a year ago that Eric and Philippa and their singer daughter Elleni (artist's name EjK) first started helping people to disembark safely and taking care of them. Getting people off the boats safely is often difficult, since much of the coast is rocky, and those who jump out enthusiastically or get out too quickly can easily sprain an ankle, or worse.

    "We didn't choose to destroy our lives," mused Philippa. I asked if "destroy" was not too strong a word. She explained that the tourist trade on which they depend has almost dried up, and they have few customers for their products. I have seen Eric's reaction online, when he is asked why they abandoned their normal lives to spend most of their time helping the refugees. He clearly thinks it's a stupid question.

    "Because we're human beings!" he will say bluntly. People needed care, and the idea of not giving that care would have been unthinkable. The couple are also fierce about respecting the refugees' dignity.

    Philippa was talking about the difficulties they had faced from some of the locals, and I chimed in that most of the people in Molyvos I had spoken to had been full of compassion, though clearly worried about the future. At that point, Eric came in. Eric is 60 years old and sports an idiosyncratic haircut: pudding bowl in the front, shoulder length at the back. I had to remind myself that it is not Eric but his daughter who is the musician of the family. Hearing my defense of the villagers, he became angry:

    "We've been spat at! We've had our tires slashed! We've had death threats!"

    I knew about this, having watched several of his regular YouTube videos about the refugee situation. In fact it was perhaps his videos that first made me think of going to Lesvos. Eric and Philippa have reacted heroically to the influx of refugees on their doorstep. They, more than anyone, have given up everything to help. And they have received plenty of abuse for doing so. In Eftalou too, some subscribe to the mysterious doctrine that refugees come to that particular beach because Eric and his wife are there – these days with dozens of volunteers from a variety of groups, including Starfish – to help them off the boats, distribute water and hand out dry socks.

    Eric expresses himself forcefully on his videos. He voices his disgust at the way the refugees have been abandoned by the EU and by the national government. He is indignant when the UNHCR promises to deliver tents and then fails to do so. He is outraged by the behavior of the occasional aggressive photographer, who he has seen pushing volunteers out of the way, and even, he remarks on his videos, sometimes steering a boat towards a rockier bit of the beach, in order to get more sensational photos. Eric is also appalled by the plans to build a new camp along the dirt road, since this road is treacherous in the winter months and unsuitable for the minibuses that will be needed to transport refugees up and down between the camp and the asphalt road.

    As for the locals: there are undeniably some people in Molyvos who are hostile to the aid effort. It is my understanding that there are even a couple of Golden Dawn supporters, as there are handfuls of fascists in Amsterdam, London, Paris and everywhere else. Eric emphasizes that it is only a few locals who have been aggressive to him.

    My own experience is of course very limited. In a month in Molyvos, although I heard a few unpleasant anecdotes, I did not personally see or hear anyone express hostility to or about the refugees. I did see locals bringing food and clothes to Oxy. As Melinda had said, talking about the situation at our Starfish volunteer meeting:

    "There are people who are for us and work with us, people who are against us, and people who would like to help but are not sure how to do so."

Spiros arrived, and I sat down with him on a wall outside. Spiros Mitrisakis is the leader of the team from the Hellas Lifeguard Training Center.  These are people who normally work as gym instructors, or who sell sports equipment, but work part-time providing first-aid training for volunteers and assisting  at major events such as the annual swimming event on Spetses and the annual SUP (stand-up paddle) race through the entire length of the Corinth Canal.

    Following the coverage of the disastrous shipwreck of October 28th, in which so many lives were lost, he and his wife had assembled a team to work on the beach near the lighthouse at Eftalou on a 24/7 basis. He had been incensed by a remark attributed to Wolfgang Schaüble: “Let them drown; it costs less.” They had soon attracted sponsors, including Aegean Airlines, Lalizas, Blue Star, and WIND Telecoms. There are now twelve Hellenic lifeguards in total – besides the other lifeguards on the north coast, like the Spanish NGO Pro-Activa Open Arms – working as volunteers on Lesvos:  

    “Not just men, also women,” added Spiros. “Many women refugees don't like to see a big man holding out his hands to help her off boat, or to hold her baby.”

    I asked Spiros if it was true, as I had heard, that the Greek coastguard does not allow them to intervene if they see that a boat is in trouble. He shook his head:

    “No, but we must phone first, so the coastguard knows who we are, and that we are competent to help.” He related a story about a honeymoon couple who had sailed off in a boat hoping to save people, with the best of intentions but no knowledge of what they were doing.

    The team had had some dramatic rescues. At one point they rescued a boat on the rocks, and as they were helping the people to disembark, the refugees said, “Wait, where is the other boat, the one that had mostly women and children?” The lifeguards set off on a feverish search for an hour before they finally found the other boat, which had become stranded on another part of the coast, and managed to rescue all of those on board.

    Spiros had thought a lot about trying to solve the problem of getting people off the boats safely onto a rocky beach. It was not always enough to keep them calm and encourage them to disembark slowly.

    “So we made a platform. Look!” and he showed me a picture on his phone. Spiros’s men were the proud inventors of a disembarkation jetty made from boards attached to an upside-down boat. This enabled the refugees to step onto the platform and simply walk onto the beach, remaining dry.

    “We thought, maybe we put a red carpet on top, for welcome!”

    Several weeks earlier, a wealthy Swiss businessman had come to watch the team at work.

    “And he said. He said . . .” Spiros was briefly unable to speak, and I saw that he was overcome by emotion at the memory of the businessman's words and his generosity.

    "He said he admired so much what we were doing. He gave us a house and paid for everything so that we can stay here for months!"

    Spiros's team-mates called him back to the car; they had to leave. I gripped Spiros's shoulder, and thanked him for taking time to speak to me.

[After I left Lesvos, there was an incident on the beach in which a photographer whose behavior had prompted anger in the past, as Eric's videos have recorded, tried to take pictures of refugee women while they were stripping off their wet clothes and changing in a tent. The Hellenic lifeguards were angry, and Spiros told the man to go away. He refused, and photographs show Spiros firmly escorting the photographer back to his car. The photographer has since filed charges for assault. Some of his supporters have also intimidated Eric in abusive phone calls, telling him to remove his YouTube documentation of these and related events. The case is expected to go to court, and there are many witnesses who can testify as to what occurred.]