Chapter XIV – Kara Tepe – Lesvos

I was in France, working on the first part of the documentary, editing recording voice over, translating interview etc… I was also planning the second part, looking at the different place I would go and how to get there when Fred from HSA called me.

He asked me to come back here in Kara Tepe, Lesvos to continue the documentation and video work I started there by winter 2015. 
As soon as possible I booked a flight and leave for the island.

Somehow I knew that the things were different there now that the EU-Turkish deal was in place, but I didn’t expect the things to be so drastically changed. I arrived on Lesvos few days after the Fred call and met him and David at the Mytilini airport. They drove me straight to the camp to show me how it has evolved over the last few months. First, the place looked the same to me, I even met some good friend I made across the volunteers of the camp last winter like Sara who was still working there, but soon I realized how much everything has changed: new infrastructures, new offices, sanitary area etc … The camp was now turned into something new: a long-term humanity base. And as the people couldn’t move further anymore due to the deal, they were staying and living here.

First I felt strange experiencing this kind of “neighborhood atmosphere”, Kara Tepe was really feeling even like a Holliday camp kind of … Everyone was smiling, the kids were running and playing all over the place… Cinema screening and activities such as football and kindergarten were happening every day … You could not feel the stress and the pressure that we were experiencing last winter when the boats were still arriving every day. And it was strange not to feel this tension, not to expect the phone to ring at any moment to warn you that a boat was arriving. To not be in “emergency mode” was disturbing as you would feel everything was alright but though, the work was still crucial and of course, to not have boat arrivals didn’t mean we had nothing to do …

Between school, food distribution, close distribution, sorting and storing donations etc … Many things were still needed. We weren’t facing an emergency humanitarian crisis anymore but were running a long-term support for the thousand people stacked there.
Of course they couldn’t move, but still, they needed a place to live by the time they’re waiting. And our work was to make the life less difficult for everyone and to sustainably make them passing through the process of getting the asylum. So we were working every day … Little by little … Slowly but surely we were sustaining the effort.

Our tasks were basically the same than the last winter but they were taking a different form. The food distribution was for example driven by Sara. She was one of the most devoted person I ever met and she was doing everything she could for the people of the camp. Then she had the idea to change the process of the food distribution, and to make it easier for the refugees, she organized a daily door to door food distribution service.
And it was way better than just delivering the meal in front of a queue of starving people, it was way more exhausting of course, as we were carrying heavy food boxes all over the camp, but at the end, everyone was happier this way. We were getting to know our people better, they were glad we were going to them. And I think this was one of the things that was making the difference between our group and the other NGO in place.
We were going to them.

Also, the clothes distribution was not a mess anymore as we were delivering the goods based on a appointments schedule so that we would focus on fewer people every day but we would be able to respond to their needs more efficiently. One of my other task in the camp was to take over the French lessons in the school HSA was running. Indeed, African people were among the refugees and were also asking for education. Then I met their kids and started to teach them every day trying to cover the whole spectrum of the basic education. It’s weird to realize how useful your knowledge can be as little as it is.
I never expected to be a teacher but I discovered myself a new utility that could make a change in these people lives. And it’s funny to think that you could never be a teacher in France without at least a master or something similar while here, the little you know makes you running classes of writing, mathematics, geography etc …

And I was also driving unofficial French lessons for Arabic speakers, working hard to make it through Arabic, English and French. 

And for an entire month, while working hard to make the life in the camp sustainable, I discovered how the crisis changed and how the EU-Turkish deal had an impact on people life. I realized the difference between helping in an emergency situation and a long-term humanitarian support which is completely different but as important and crucial.

For an entire month, I realized we were not only helping the “refugees”: we were living with them. They were part of our lives, part of the people we were seeing all day long. They were friends. And it was tricky to keep the distinction clear as you were willing to spend some time with them, just enjoying spending good moments and to get closer to them … but you also had to keep in mind that you couldn’t get too close … you had to keep a gap and to stay neutral. They were still “refugees” and you were still “humanitarian volunteer” and that meant you had responsibilities towards them. 

This was a pain and a difficult thing to do. We were so close to them, doing so many things together, drawing, swimming, singing, gardening, learning, joking … well, basically all the good things you’re doing in the life with the people you love BUT you were not allowed to see them as your friends as for the NGO’s they were first “people in need” that we were helping.

I’d say that this situation made me question myself on how important was the human relation through a crisis like this. I asked myself if it was possible to help people with humanity. To help “your friends” passing through a critical situation and to be fair enough to be equal with everyone. 

I think it’s one of the most tricky things in the humanitarian work.

Chapitre XIV – Kara Tepe – Lesbos

J’étais en France, travaillant sur la première partie du documentaire (montage, voix-off, traduction etc …) tout en planifiant la deuxième partie du parcours (de ce projet qui maintenant était devenu bien plus que son but initial), regardant les différents endroits où j’irais etc . lorsque je reçu l’appel de Fred, de HSA me demandant de revenir ici à Kara Tepe, Lesbos pour continuer la documentation et le travail vidéo que j’avais commencé par l’hiver 2015.
Aussitôt que possible, j’ai réservé un vol et parti pour l’île.
D’une certaine manière, je savais que les choses étaient différentes là-bas maintenant que l’accord UE-Turquie était en place, mais je ne m’attendais pas à ce qu’elles le soient si drastiquement. Je suis arrivé à Lesbos quelques jours après l’appel de Fred; lui et David son venue me chercher à l’aéroport de Mytilini. Ils m’ont conduit directement au camp pour me montrer comment il avait évolué au cours des derniers mois. Tout d’abord, l’endroit m’a semblé le même, j’ai même rencontré de bons amis qui étaient déjà présents l’hiver dernier comme Sara, Shareen etc . mais bientôt j’ai compris combien tout avait changé: nouvelles infrastructures, nouveaux bureaux, nouvelles zones sanitaires, etc. …. Le camp avait été transformé en quelque chose de nouveau: une base humanitaire à long terme. Et comme les gens ne pouvaient plus bouger davantage en raison du nouveau deal, ils restaient et vivaient ici.

 

D’abord, je trouvais étonnante, cette sorte d’atmosphère de quartier; Kara Tepe faisait même penser (à première vue) a un genre de centre de vacances … Tout le monde était souriant, les enfants couraient et jouaient partout … Cinéma en plein air et activités telles que le football et la maternelle se produisaient chaque jour … Vous ne pouviez pas ressentir le stress et la pression que nous éprouvions l’hiver dernier lorsque les bateaux arrivaient tous les jours. Et c’était étrange de ne pas ressentir cette tension, de ne pas s’attendre à ce que le téléphone sonne à tout moment pour vous avertir qu’un bateau arrivait. Ne pas être en «mode d’urgence» était dérangeant car c’était comme si tout allait bien alors que le travail était encore crucial et, bien sûr, ne pas avoir d’arrivées de bateaux ne signifiait pas que nous n’avions rien à faire …
Entre l’école, la distribution rapprochée des aliments, le tri et le stockage des dons, etc. Beaucoup de choses étaient encore nécessaires. Nous n’Etions plus confrontés à une crise humanitaire d’urgence, mais nous soutenions à long terme les milliers de personnes qui étaient bloqués, cloitres dans le camp.
Bien sûr, ils ne pouvaient pas bouger, mais ils avaient toujours besoin d’un endroit pour vivre le temps d’obtenir leur statut de demandeur d’asile. Et notre travail était de rendre la vie moins difficile pour tout le monde et de les faire passer durablement et surement dans le processus d’obtention de l’asile. Nous travaillions tous les jours … petit à petit … Lentement, mais sûrement, nous soutenions l’effort.
Nos tâches étaient fondamentalement les mêmes que le dernier hiver, mais elles adoptaient une forme différente. La distribution alimentaire été conduite par Sara (l’une des personnes les plus dévouées que j’ai pu rencontrer le long de la route) et elle faisait tout ce qu’elle pouvait (littéralement, elle venait de donner un an de sa vie) pour les gens du camp. Pour eux, elle avait eu l’idée de changer le processus de distribution des aliments, et pour faciliter leurs vies, elle avait organisé un service quotidien de distribution de nourriture de porte à porte.
Et c’était bien mieux que de livrer le repas devant une file d’attente de personnes affamées; bien plus épuisant, bien sûr, car nous transportions de lourdes boîtes alimentaires partout dans le camp, mais à la fin, tout le monde était plus heureux de cette façon. Nous connaissions mieux les gens, ils étaient heureux. Et je pense que c’était l’une des choses qui faisaient la différence entre notre groupe et les autres ONG’s en place.
Nous allions à eux.
We were going to them.

 

En outre, la distribution des vêtements n’était plus le bordel que nous avions connu puisque nous livrions les marchandises en fonction d’un calendrier des rendez-vous afin de se concentrer sur moins de personnes chaque jour, mais d’être en mesure de répondre plus efficacement à leurs besoins.
Une de mes autres tâches dans le camp était de me charger des leçons de français dans l’école d’HSA. En effet, des Africains (Cameroun, Centrafrique, RDC) étaient parmi les réfugiés et demandaient également des études. J’ai rencontré leurs enfants et commencé à leur apprendre chaque jour à essayer de couvrir tout le spectre de l’éducation de base. C’est étrange de se rendre compte de l’utilité de votre connaissance (aussi mediocre soit-elle).
Je ne m’étais encore jamais attendu à être un enseignant, mais je me suis decouvert une nouvelle utilité qui pouvait changer, à son échelle, le mode de vie de ces personnes. C’est amusant de penser que jamais je n’aurais pu être professeur en France sans au moins un MASTER ou quelque chose de semblable, alors que le peu que je connaissais ici, me faisait mener des cours d’écriture, de mathématiques, de géographie, etc.
Et je donnais également des leçons de français hors classe pour les arabophones, travaillant dur pour faire ma soupe entre l’Arabe, l’Anglais et le Français.
Pendant plus d’un mois, tout en travaillant dur pour rendre la vie dans le camp meilleure et durable, j’ai découvert comment la crise avait changé et comment l’accord UE-Turquie avait impacté sur la vie des gens. Je me suis rendu compte de la différence entre aider dans une situation d’urgence et supporter un travail humanitaire à long terme: deux choses complètement différentes, mais aussi importante et cruciale.


Pendant un mois entier, j’ai compris qu’il n’était plus seulement question d’aider les «réfugiés»: nous vivions avec eux. Ils faisaient partie de nos vies, une partie des gens que nous voyions toute la journée. C’étaient nos amis et, il était délicat de garder une distinction claire car vous étiez disposé à passer du temps avec eux, tout simplement en profitant de bons moments, à vous rapprocher d’eux … mais vous deviez garder à l’esprit que vous ne pouviez pas être trop proche … garder un ” espace ” et rester neutre. Ils étaient encore «réfugiés» et vous étiez toujours «volontaire humanitaire» et cela signifiait que vous aviez des responsabilités à leur égard.

C’était douloureux parfois et souvent, une chose difficile à faire. Nous étions tellement proches d’eux, faisions tant de choses ensemble, dessiner, nager, chanter, jardiner, apprendre, blaguer … bref, toutes les bonnes choses qu’on fait dans la vie avec les gens qu’on aime, a la différence qu’ici, vous n’étiez pas autorisé à les considérer- comme vos amis: pour les ONG, ils étaient d’abord des «personnes dans le besoin» que nous devions aider.

Je dirais que cette situation m’a permis de me questionner sur l’importance de la relation humaine lors d’une crise comme celle-ci. Ça m’a fait me demander s’il était possible d’aider les gens avec humanité sans perdre notre efficacité. Pour aider «vos amis» à traverser une situation critique, d’être juste et équitable à tous. Peut-on aider une personne qu’on aime comme on aide le dernier des connards?

Je pense que c’est l’une des choses les plus difficiles dans le travail humanitaire.

Chapter XXII – Ganges – France

Being back to tranquility is an unpleasant feeling.

I mean, of course, I enjoy resting and having the time to settle down and to breath for a while but knowing what’s going on in the other places I belong to is a knife straight in the heart. I can’t stop thinking about everyone and I can’t help but to keep trying to help them from here.

Then the last couple of weeks has been busy setting up new tools to gather funds and money to help “my friends” still stacked all over the place.

I couldn’t find that many ways …

  • One is to share the experience and to run workshop and conferences about the situation in high school, college and university. It’s something I started doing more and more, knowing that sharing migrants stories and to enable students to help and to connect with them is one of the most important thing.
  • The second is about online fundraising and I then, start setting up a way for people to sustain the work on a monthly basis using the Patreon platform (as you can see on the orange button).FireShot Capture 1 - Exile 2.0 – منفى – Documentary On Migra_ - https___felixbrassier.wordpress.com_
  • The third option might be the less practical but the most efficient: fundraising events.

 

 

This last option is not the easiest one.

 

From planning the evening’ performances, calling the venue, buying the food, cooking the meals till finally running the event, you don’t have that much space … It takes a lot of time, energy and commitment … things that I’d rather keep for the people in need. But, hey … you can’t be everywhere at the same time and you’ve to work things out with what you’ve got.

So I decided to create and to run the first physical fundraising event related to the Exile 2.0 project to specifically help the boys from the Takadoum neighborhood in Rabat, Morocco … -> https://www.gofundme.com/23kkwwk

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Let’s be honest, I’m everything but comfortable with this …

But I’m lucky enough to be surrounded by friends who gave me a hand.

So far, the D-day, I was all but ready, and even if my fellows were confident, I wasn’t.

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I bought the food at the last minute before going to prepare the couscous, which would have been impossible without the help of Nadira and Fabrice who shown up to help just like a miracle.

 

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Steph, Tonio and Miloun, artists poets and musicians, helped me to run the “show” till the documentary screening, singing, playing music and reading poetry to the public while I was trying to fix the Internet connexion …

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Well, I never expected we would get the entire place packed with people and just enough food to serve them.

 

And It was such a great thing to realize that again, here, people were listening and willing to help.

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After an exhausting 5-hours event, we all were happy with the result. And even if you always need more money to carry the work, I can’t stop thinking about the boys from Takadoum, who’ll soon receive a nice gift thanks to all the good people from Ganges.  

Chapitre XXII – Ganges – France

Être de retour au calme est un sentiment étrange et déplaisant.

Je ne dis pas que je n’apprécie pas de me reposer et de souffler un peu mais de savoir ce qui se passe pour mes amis, toujours coince dans les régions où je suis passé : c’est un couteau planté dans le coeur. Ils hantent mes pensées, jours et nuit … et je ne peux pas faire autrement que d’essayer de les aider d’ici.
J’ai donc decié de mettre en place de nouveaux moyens de leur venir en aide.

Honnêtement, je n’ai pas trouvé mille et une solutions.

  • La première est de partager mon expérience et de mener des ateliers et conferences de sensibilisation en collèges, lycées et universités. C’est ce que je fais de plus en plus car, partager l’histoire des migrants, réfugiés et de permettre aux étudiants de parler avec eux ainsi que de devenir acteurs, penseurs de l’aide humanitaire, est la chose la plus importante selon moi …
  • La deuxième solution que j’ai trouve est la mise en place d’un moyen de soutien mensuel en ligne via la platform Patreon (que vous pouvez voir via le bouton orange sur le site) .
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  • Enfin, la troisième option est surement la moins pratique : les soirées de levée de fonds.

 

Et cette dernière méthode n’est pas sans peine.

 

 

 

Entre planifier, organiser les performances de la soirée, appeler les gens, trouver un endroit, acheter la bouffe et la cuisiner pour enfin “faire” la soirée le jour J, il n’y a pas mal de choses à prendre en compte.
Cela prend un temps et une énergie folle, chose que j’aurais de préférence garde pour les personnes sur le terrain. Mais bon, que voulez-vous, on ne peut pas être au four et au moulin et on fait avec ce qu’on a sur place.

Donc, j’ai decié de créer et mener la première soirée officielle de levee de fond pour le projet, pour aider spécifiquement les jeunes du quartier de Takadoum à Rabat au Maroc. -> https://www.gofundme.com/23kkwwk

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Honnêtement, je suis tout sauf à l’aise avec ce genre d’événements.

J’ai cependant la chance d’avoir des amis près à mettre la main à la “pâte.”

Mais le jour J, j’étais loin d’être prêt, et, même si les gars semblaient confiants, j’avais de nombreux doutes.

wp-1492974549564.La nourriture avait ete achetee à la dernière minute avant de préparer le couscous pour le repas du soir (chose qui aurait été impossible sans l’aide de Nadira et Fabrice, qui, après les avoir croisés dans la ville inopinément, sont venues filer un coup de main miracle qui sauva la soirée).

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Steph, Tonio et Miloun, des camarades artistes, poètes et musiciens s’occupèrent de chauffer l’ambiance, récitant des poèmes, jouant de la musique et chantant à tours de bras pendant que de mon cote, je m’arrachait les cheveux pour trouver une connexion internet viable.

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Très franchement, en début de soirée je n’aurais jamais cru que l’on reçoit autant de personnes et que nous ayons juste assez de nourriture pour tout le monde.

Les choses sont surprenantes parfois et la bonté humaine ne cessera jamais de me surprendre, surgissant de nulle part sans mot dire.

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Et même si les cinq heures, les performances, le repas, la diffusion du documentaire et les conversations qui en découlèrent furent épuisants … Même si, toujours plus d’argent serait nécessaire pour continuer les choses comme il se doit …

Je ne peux pas m’empêcher de penser aux jeunes de Takadoum qui, bientôt, auront une jolie surprise de la part des gens de Ganges.

Chapter XX – Tunis – Tunisia

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Leaving Palermo was difficult … not only because of the usual unpleasant border crossing, ferry stuff etc … Leaving the people behind was tough even if I knew I was about to see them again soon.
And the 10 hours of sailing weren’t making my moods better …

I had the time to think about the advises friends gave me to not going to few places, to avoid being foolish trying to see and to understand the dangerous things … Tunisia was still a blurry mystery both, exciting and worrying.
I then arrived in the country by night, passing through the same long and worrying process at the border (you’re always imagining the worst scenario even if you have absolutely nothing to hide …)
snapshot-11Filling the paper works for me, Marcel etc … emptying the whole van at the customs check-up … being arrested three times by the police along the way to Tunis and being almost arrested, fined and enable to drive for not having an original copy of my car insurance … or for simply possessing a chicha in the van …
Well, I think if I wouldn’t tell the truth straight away, explaining to the policemen why I was here and why stopping Marcel in a garage would mean jail for me … they would not have been so kind with me, letting me pass through.
Or perhaps they’re just fooling me as the tourists dumb they might see so often … I couldn’t tell.
Then I finally arrived to the capital at 1.30a.m. and found a place to pass the first night.

The day after, I spent the time walking through the center of Tunis, gathering information about the place, the people and organisation working here and started to contact the ones I already knew.

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Then I met Henda, a independent Tunisian journalist with whom I planned to collaborate on reportage and documentation of the refugees and migrants situation in the country.
Working for the web magazine Nawaat for a while, she had indeed a lot of information she was glad to share with me.

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And I was in great need of information as it was really hard to find them online.
So I went from place to place, introducing myself to the people and the organisations, explaining them my goals etc … to start being in touch with the people who were doing stuff on the ground.

The day after, while I was in a meeting with ngo’s and humanitarian people of the area, the harsh reality of being on the roads in a “not so cool place” strike me back again : being stolen.

Fuck … another time … I start thinking it’s a permanent rule of this nomadic lifestyle.
Well, this time has been a bit worse than the other times as i’ve been stolen my backpack containing all of my working gear : laptop, DSLR, cameras, tablets, hard drive and footages … everything … well the most important things for me.
Though, it wasn’t the end of the troubles.

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After realizing the shit, I went with Kais, a journalist that I met few hours before, at the police station to make complaint and to establish the robbery.
That’s when I realized being nomadic filmmaker working on humanitarian crisi subject wasn’t really the best position to have …
Being asked many things, being suspected of “god knows” whatever spying or dangerous plans … Kais helped me to pass through it and after hours in the police station, we went to the scientific police for them to inspect the vehicle and to gather prints all over Marcel.

And I spent the night at Kais place, worried about the situation as the police called him every 30 minutes asking for my location, information about me etc …
He protected me somehow putting himself in danger and i’m glad he did so.
It was both strange, worrying and exciting at the same time to feels like a fugitive (even if I was everything but dangerous …).

We spent the evening together listening music and talking about life, his country and the way things were changing.
We spoke about the revolution, the Arab spring and all sorts of topics that were fascinating me.
It seemed like he and his fellows journalists were belonging to this kind of freedom fighters, believing in the power of true information and ready to fight for it.
The revolutionary youth of Tunisia …

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Then after a restful night in a bed, I gather enough physical and moral strength to go back to the police station and to explain them what I was doing specifically, how I was living etc … I wanted to make it clear for them to know I wasn’t a troublemaker coming here to mess around the place … I wanted them to know that my only point was to help and understand and, most of all I wanted to take alone the responsibility of my actions and to to endanger the people who’re helping me.

Well … so far it went ok …

And after the police, I went to a garage to fix the van which couldn’t close anymore (as the robbers has fucked up all the locks).

And again I had to postpone … and again I had to switch on survival mode finding a place to park Marcel near by to be able to work and to watch it at the same time … to find a safe place to sleep … I decided to return to the first place I went to “place de la monnaie” which I thought was a good one.

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It’s at 1.30am when I woke up surrounded by three patrol trucks and 20 policemen that I realised it was maybe not a good idea.
I think they were inspecting the van which looked like hell at the moment, covered with products used from the scientific police and with all the locks broken … when I woke up my first reaction was to go out from the van as quick as possible as I knew it couldn’t lock : such a weird situation …
For a frozen time all the cops were speechless to see myself going out of the van : I could read on their eyes “what the fuck is this guy doing inside ?”.

Then, as naturally as the situation would allow, I just went to them, quietly, explaining them the whole situation.

And again … I went to the police station (I think I will know all of them by the end of my stay in the country, 4 different in a matter of 2 days, not bad …)
Then, they told me the risks of parking the van on the street “no really ? I didn’t realised !” … telling me it was unsafe and so on … once I explained them I didn’t have anything left and not much more to be stolen, they kind of understood the situation and asked me to spend the night in front of the station “to be safe” …
I spent 10 minutes before being sent back by another officer … I definitely sounds like chaos here, no one is really aware of what’s going on, everything is changing in a glimpse and everyone is telling you opposite things.
So I returned to “place de la monnsie” where Mr Belkhasem and Mr Am Salama, the two watchmen of the square, helped me to park the van and to stay for the night.
It was 3.30am when I went back to sleep … I had to move again at 5.30 to go in a safer place in front if the lock shop …

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And we spent most of the day after fixing the locks and the doors of Marcel.
By the end of the day, my tiny mobile house was fixed.

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As Jeanne told me once in Morocco “there’s always a moment of “wander” in the nomadic process.”

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She thought it was the critical moment when you’d get lost during the journey … losing your marks, losing your goals and even sometimes losing yourself …
Of course, at the time, we were talking about the migrants situation. About these people getting lost on their difficult way to a better life.

 

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The wandering was the most dangerous moment during their journey as they could fall into drugs, prostitution, traffic of all kind etc … as they were somehow losing their first goal, enable to get it done.
I think this is the most dangerous kind of wander.
Anyhow, the way I feel now is a bit similar.

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Nevertheless, even if things are though, I decided not to give up and, instead of losing myself mindlessly into yhis mood, I decided to embrace it as part of my cure.

As I’ve always been moving focusing on specific things to do, I never been able to wander around etc … I was avoiding it carefully.

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But maybe it’s now the time to embrace this stage of mobility which doesn’t have any precise direction and meaning.
It’s when you’re not looking for something specific that things happen.

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Then I choose to leave for couple of days, foreseeing I would burn out staying in Tunis in this state of mind.
I went to the further place I could go from the city : the southern Tunisian-Algerian border, near the Sahara and the wilderness.

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I spent days moving around the southern border.

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I walk on chott el jerid salt lake, I climbed the mountain of the dghoumes national park, gaze at the tamerza canyons and waterfalls, passed through the chambi mountain and the nebeur forest (which were i’ve been told very dangerous due to the armed terrorists living-hiding over there, well … I haven’t saw them …)

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I slept with the locals, burn fire at night, cooked with the amasir families and enjoy the natural simplicity of their life.

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These moments were what I needed I guess to clear my mind and to return to the essential.

snapshot-161Then I returned to the capital, locked Marcel in a protected car park and tried to get back to the work, which again was something virtually impossible to do as you couldn’t do anything by your own and you could not access to the NGOs or groups responding “Ohh yes … your project sounds great, It’s really good what you’re doing ! Really good, we’ll contact you back as soon as we’ll finish our schedules for the next … and of course they never did”

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I was then left alone, going from place to place, looking for advice, for people who could help me to help … day after day …

Still I collected information about the country global situation, and I’d describe it this way : A weird messy chaos.

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In the country, you could indeed face different situations :

– The sub-saharian migrants in Tunisia are for example for less than in Morocco and are mainly students coming into the country to continue their studies.

– The “Refugees” like the Syrians aren’t recognized in the country, I mean that they’re not given the statue and the statement of UNCHR useless.

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– The Libyan migrants there are a kind of exception as they seems to receive a specific treatment, thanks to an old law from 1973, stipulating that they can come in and out the country as much as they want and stay there without worrying of being thrown out the country.

– The young Tunisians themselves are still willing to flee the country (a huge wave of them has arrived in Italy after the Revolution) because of their shitty and pitiful life conditions.

And it’s just a glimpse of the craziness and the unsuitability of the country situation …

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Then, through this chaos, I made some contacts and start, little by little to realize that the most meaningful work I could do there would be to work in school with the disadvantage kids and people, who’re the first candidates to the exile. By doing so, you’d not help facilitate the migrants journey but you’d save them from the difficult trip by enabling them improving their life at home … no more need to look for an hypothetical “better life” somewhere else if you could get it in your village or home-town. 

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Regarding this, I meet Alessandro who’s working on sociology documentaries here for a while, he introduced me to some people from the Popular University of Tunisia and we could have done something together if I would have not faced another robbery being stolen my phone, losing all of my contacts, plans, access to internet and informations … and with it a lot of moral energy …

Being robbed right in the street is something I’d never imagine, but well, it’s life I guess …

And this last shit achieved to kill me …

It’s not so much losing the phone that upset me, it’s the fact that happened to me twice in a so short period of time … and it somehow made me realized that I was no more “safe” enough to help as the next thing which could happen would put me in a REAL SHIT.

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Then, following people advices, I decided to leave as sometimes it’s better to step back before going further …