The legacy of the Jungle
I've been to The Jungle in Calais several times to
help with the refugee crisis. What I did was almost nothing, and yet
alongside thousands of others who also did almost nothing, it all
helped.
But this extraordinary woman was in it for the
long run. I met her on my first day when she showed me around and
told me how things worked. She led the warm-up and daily briefing for
volunteers.
Her testimony reminds me of what I saw. The
unexpected blossoming of love and beauty in the jaws of degredation
and barbaric humiliation. She and dozens (hundreds?) like her gave
all they had. And to witness such selfless giving from another moved
me in a way I had never imagined possible. She will pay for that gift
for the rest of her life. No one should see what she saw.
Don't imagine this is over. The goalposts have
moved for sure. But refugees are still risking daily arrest and a
beating just for surviving, in hiding. Volunteers now risk fines for
handing out food.
Watching this video makes me weep although I'm
confused as to why. Do I weep for her pain? Do I weep for the pain of
the refugees past and present? Do I weep for those who lost their
lives fleeing something worse? Do I weep for our occluded humanity,
that discussing whether a banana is bendy enough can be more
important, demand more media coverage and attract more spending, than
desperate beings living in hell on our doorstop ?
I have no answers. Nor does Cécile. But if you
have two minutes, I commend her to you.
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