EU/Turkey – The New Continent

What future for “Quechua babies”?

Schengen — Sun, 21 Aug 2016 15:52:10 +0000

Idomeni refugee Camp by night, Greece, May 2016.

Words : Véronique Saunier – What future for “Quechua babies”?

Tightly wrapped in a kundakah Noura is sleeping quietly. Before leaving Syria on the long journey to Europe, her young parents neatly packed several sets of the traditional pieces of cotton in which babies are wrapped for the first two months of their life. Noura’s father, Mohammed, recalls how he carried his daughter’s trousseau in his backpack all the way from Syria and how he refused to give it up when they had to get rid of most of their possessions before boarding the small boat taking them across the Aegean sea.

Noura is one of the hundreds of babies who were born in Greece to parents fleeing their country to seek asylum in Europe. It is difficult to find statistics. Even the UNHCR does not have exact figures.

Fotini Kesedopoulou, Protection expert at the UNHCR in the now defunct Idomeni camp near the border of Macedonia (FYROM) says that the population, which reached more than 12,000 people at its peak, was fluctuated too much to keep count of newborns. However, just before the camp was evacuated at the end of May, the independent Greek NGO Praksis was distributing nappies for babies under three months old to 125 families and milk formula to 12 mothers who could not nurse their children. This gives an idea of the newborn population in a single camp.

Heven, Noura’s 19 year old mother, spent the last three months of her pregnancy in the Idomeni camp, the point where she and the rest of the family were hoping to cross the border to Macedonia (FYROM) and then go all the way to Germany to rejoin other family members. She certainly did not expect her daughter would spend the first weeks of her life in a tent.

The majority of refugees’ babies are born in local hospitals but some, whom the medical staff affectionately call “Quechua babies” (after the brand name of the most popular kind of tent), don’t make it to the hospital and are born in makeshift conditions. “It can be quite challenging,” recalls Isabelle, a medical officer with Médecins du Monde, who has helped deliver babies in such circumstances.

What is certain is that all these newborns spend the first weeks of their life camping in the most extreme conditions. But what is in store for them might be even more challenging. Like many displaced people in the world, proving their nationality might become an issue. Ironically, in French the translation for the word stateless, “apatride” comes from the Greek word patris and means “without an ancestor’s land”. Greece might be unintentionally creating future stateless individuals.

When asked about her nationality, Noura’s parents answered that she is of course Syrian. But other parents of newborns said they hoped that because their child was born in Greece, it would enable the family to get a European passport. Most of them had no idea.

According to UNHCR’s Kesedopoulou children whose registration is not done properly are at high risk of being stateless. “Since there is no way to declare the birth of a child at their country’s embassy, it is important that parents follow the Greek registration process thoroughly to make sure their child does not become stateless,” she explained.

The registration process requires several steps that not all parents are aware of, especially as all the documents they are issued with are written in Greek. Typically, the child is issued a temporary birth certificate from the hospital. With this document in hand, parents must go to the local police office to certify the name of the child and to make a joint statement. It is important that both parents jointly declare the child. In some cases such as under Syrian law, only men can pass citizenship onto their children.

“Syrian law states that their citizens have to follow the personal status law of the country they are in. In terms of preventing statelessness, if a legitimate Greek birth certificate has the name of the Syrian man as the father then the child is Syrian,” explains Zahra Albarazi of the Institute on Statelessness and Inclusion, an organisation based in the Netherlands.

In the case of Noura and of the other babies we met in the camps who have both parents, their nationality can be easily established if proper registration has been processed. However, for Syrian babies born to single mothers, establishing their nationality at the moment is virtually impossible.

“A change in Syrian nationality law – allowing Syrian women to transfer their nationality as well as men – would solve the problem,” reckons Albarazi.

She co-authored a report on behalf of the Norwegian Refugee Council (NRC) that studies the interaction between statelessness and displacement, and particularly emphasizes statelessness as a consequence of displacement. With nearly 9 million Syrians either internally displaced and refugees and numbers continuing to rise, there is a clear risk of statelessness among the displaced Syrian population and especially among newborns.

“It is important that we raise as much awareness as possible among refugees about the importance of documentation – although lacking documents does not mean they are stateless, it can certainly put them at risk in other contexts,” added Albarazi.

“An official birth certificate is essential to apply for asylum,” assured Kesedopoulou. The UNHCR and the Greek authorities have used this argument to encourage refugees to leave open camps and to relocate to official camps where they say babies will be registered systematically and asylum applications processed more rapidly.

This is an important incentive that many families have taken into consideration when moving to government-run camps and that makes their life under difficult conditions more bearable. We must hope Greece’s migration department will be true to its word and will respect both its promise to register babies born on its soil and to speed up asylum applications for all refugees.

Mishandling the situation will result in even more frustration for refugees and add to the more than 10 million stateless people worldwide, according to UNHCR data

This article has been published on VoxEurop.

Update : Starting a new life in Germany

At the time of writing, Noura and her parents have made it to Germany, where they have been reunited with the members of the family who had already relocated there. At just a few weeks old, Noura was smuggled into Serbia from Greece, carried by her mother across the Macedonian hills, and then driven from camp to camp from Serbia to Hungary and finally to Germany. Chances are that there her status will be regularised and that, with her parents’ support and resilience, she can look forward to a bright future.

Meanwhile, in the makeshift Kelibija camp, located at the border between Serbia and Hungary, an actual “Quechua baby” is also waiting for happier days. Four month-old Rodin (“Sunrise” in Kurdish) was born on 26 March at the Idomeni camp, just days after the fateful closure of the border between Greece and Macedonia. Rodin’s 24 year-old mother Amina (photo), was sent back to the camp by the medical staff at the Kilkis hospital, who assumed she was not ready to deliver. But she gave birth in the tent she was living in with her husband and two other daughters. Rodin was less than three months old when her family started the long, treacherous trek across Macedonia. “I was ill and when I collapsed and could not walk any more the smugglers left me and my family behind,” recalls Amina. They found their way to the Serbian border by themselves after a ten-day trek. The whole family is now camping next to the barbed wire fence that separates Serbia from Hungary, just by the special gate through which, every day, 15 refugees are allowed to cross the border before being driven by bus to yet another camp in Hungary. In their hurry to leave their hometown, Kobane, in Syria, the family did not take their identity documents, which makes their potential relocation even more challenging.

Quechua tent, Idomeni refugee Camp, Greece, May 2016.

Entrepreneurs of Idomeni

Schengen — Fri, 12 Aug 2016 09:45:54 +0000

Wasim’s makeshift hair salon. Photo: Phil Le Gal / Hans Lucas.

Words : Véronique Saunier – Entrepreneurs of Idomeni

Men and boys queue in front of Wasim’s makeshift hair salon by the entrance of the Idomeni refugee camp in Greece. The young Syrian hairdresser managed to bring his tools with him on the long journey that brought him here from Aleppo, where his family owned a salon. When he realised that the closing of the border between Greece and FYROM was going to ground him here for an undetermined period of time he decided to put his tools to good use and to offer his services for a small fee.

I have made so many friends from all over the world here that whenever I go to Europe I will have lots of people to visit – Wasim

Many refugees from the camp in Idomeni are not staying idle. Some have opened small businesses which not only enable them to kill time and to make a little money but also to help their fellow refugees. However, they may soon run out of customers. An increasing number of asylum seekers are leaving the camp: either because they found a way to cross the border with the help of a smuggler; or to go to the official camps that are being opened by the local Greek authorities, where they are told their registration and asylum applications will be processed fastest; or, as increasingly is the case, to go back home.

Given the rising temperatures and resulting hot weather in the northern part of Greece, Wasim’s clients mostly want their hair cut very short. However for his younger customers, Wasim skillfully crafts trendy hair styles. He charges €3 for a haircut or a shave. This is far less than what it would cost in the nearby town of Polikastro, which is 17 kilometres away and difficult for most refugees to reach. Wasim does not want to tell how much he makes, but judging from the line of waiting customers business is not bad.

Idomeni’s refugee camp at night. Photo: Phil Le Gal/ Hans Lucas.

Strategically located at one of the entrances of the camp, Wasim’s salon, like in any hair salon in the world, is full of gossips and rumours. This is where, after working hours, smugglers’ routes and fees are discussed and negotiated. Wasim is one of the candidates to leave the camp. He says he is looking for a backpack that will make the long march to Serbia through fields and along dirt roads easier.

Solving problems, relieving boredom

A few steps away from Wasim’s salon, Bachar fans a barbecue lined with kebabs. The professional chef has partnered with Akaram and Mohammed, two friends from his home town Deir ez-Zor, a large city on the shores of the Euphrates River, in Syria. Alone he would not be able to put up enough money to buy the meat and the other ingredients that he has delivered from Polikastro to the camp every day. The three partners take turn in preparing and selling lamb lebabs, a delicacy much appreciated by the residents who are bored with the camp food. Profits are small, about €10 a day, but it is enough to buy extra food for their children and the occasional pack of cigarettes.

Cigarettes, smuggled from FYROM where they cost half as much as they do in Greece, are sold by numerous vendors across the camp: €2 for a pack of Rodeo, Macedonia’s favourite.

Shawi’s Lokmat stall. Photo: Phil Le Gal / Hand Lucas.

By the railway track, Shawi from Aleppo has turned an old rubbish bin into a gas stove. On it he fries awama or lokmat, a famous Middle Eastern sweet dumpling which is very popular, especially during the period of Ramadan. At €3 for six, they sell well. Shawi also partnered with two friends with whom he shares a profit of €30 to €35 a day. He says that if Germans like his dumplings he will open a shop in Germany, where he and his family wish to settle.

For those who can afford it, kebabs, falafels, and awama bring some variety to the otherwise boring food that is offered by the NGOs in the camp.

Artists, teachers, and musicians also make use of their expertise to bring a bit of entertainment and education to their fellow refugees. Ali Ahmad, a 27 year old from Syria, is probably the most active participant of the whole community. A professional nurse who is fluent in English, he volunteers as an interpreter for Médecins Du Monde, helps run the Solidari’Tea tent – which serves free tea several times a day –and is often seen running errands across the camp. Today, he is fixing some makeshift beds out of old wooden pallets. An unrelenting optimist he says, “I have made so many friends from all over the world here that whenever I go to Europe I will have lots of people to visit”.

Such displays of creativity and resourcefulness despite dire living conditions and little knowledge of what the future might bring is proof that, if given a chance to settle in a safe and organised environment, these people would strive and be active contributors to the community and to the economy of their adoptive countries.

European countries that close their borders to them are depriving themselves, not only of potentially talented but also resilient people who understand the value of a safe and peaceful environment and the benefits of hard work and of persistence. What a loss for ageing Europeans, who are continuously demonstrating for state support in every corner of their lives hoping that others will take care of their problems. What a lesson for our remaining youth on how to take one’s destiny and the destiny of their loved ones in their own hands without capitulating in front of adversity.

This article has been published on OpenDemocracy.

Why refugees don’t want to resettle

Schengen — Thu, 11 Aug 2016 07:53:54 +0000

Former Hockey and baseball Stadiums at the Helliniko Olympic Complex. The site is now hosting refugees.

Words : Véronique Saunier – Why Refugees don’t want to resettle

The makeshift refugee and migrant camp in the Greek village of Idomeni, near the Macedonian border, was evacuated at the end of May. Most of its 10,000 occupants have been transferred to other, supposedly better organised camps in Greece or have settled in rented homes. But many of them decided not to resettle and to set up their tents in new locations, on the outskirts of the Athens-Thessaloniki road.

The most common reason invoked for refugees in Greece not wanting to move from the illegal camps where they have lived for months to government holding centres is that they want to stay close to the borders in case they open and can be crossed. This has been the main reason why three months ago they stationed themselves close to borders in villages such as Idomeni, situated a mere five kilometres from the entry point of Gevgelija in Macedonia.

However, three months have passed since then, and many of the refugees have lost hope that the borders will ever open to them again. Yet, despite the harsh living conditions they still prefer to stay where they are rather than going to official camps because:

They are not able to choose their destination camp and have no idea where they are being sent. Over the past months they have built themselves a social network which, however fragile, is all the social life that they have at the moment. Adults and children have made friends, individuals have supported and helped each other, new couples have formed. They fear that they may be sent randomly to different camps and may be separated from friends and even from family members.
They are concerned by possible promiscuity and lack of privacy. The new camps are reportedly either former military bases or abandoned industrial premises which will be filled and lined up with army tents close to each other. Not that the camps like Idomeni offer much privacy but at least people could choose where to plant their tent, to organise themselves in groups and to move from one area to another if they wanted to.
They worry about food. About its scarcity as well as its lack of diversity. Greek NGOs serve three meals a day but they are repetitive (lots of macaroni) and not necessarily to the taste of people of different nationalities who live in the camps. It might sound trivial, but we all know how eating well is important not only for health but also for morale. In open camps, the most entrepreneurial of the refugees have opened little food stalls selling everything from fresh vegetables and fruits to traditional cooked food such as falafel, kebabs or sweets. Those who cannot afford to buy cooked food still cook their own on small gas stoves or on wood fires. Women and children are often seen roaming around the fields harvesting herbs and berries. This not only adds to their daily diet but also keeps them busy and gives them a feel of real life and of sharing.
What if there is no wifi? Having wifi is vital because it enables refugees to communicate with their family, relatives and friends but also to keep themselves informed and entertained. Proper internet connections are vital as most of the asylum application process happens online, including the very first step, which is to arrange an appointment with the Greek Asylum Service through a Skype call. In Idomeni wifi was available in different points such as around the tents of the large NGOs and medical providers. It has been reported that some of the official camps are not yet equipped with wifi. In addition, refugees fear that the authorities can arbitrarily decide to shut down all connections.
Their children may not receive education. It is unclear if any of the official camps can provide education. Some of them simply do not have the space to open classrooms. There is no official teaching in the open camps but several NGOs such as the Spanish “Bomberos” have been organising academic and playing activities which may no longer be available.
Their freedom may be restricted. Some camps have already announced that refugees will be free to go in and out but that there will be a curfew. How humiliating is it to an adult to have to be home at a certain time.
They may not have access to adequate medical care. Medical care in some of the military run camps will be provided by army doctors who have no experience of caring for women and children. Will other doctors be available? Will there be female doctors?
They fear being forgotten. Only organisations and individuals authorised by the government will be allowed in the camps. Independent volunteers and some media might be forbidden to visit. Many refugees no longer believe what the UNHCR says about their applications to asylum being processed quicker in the official camps. They see no end to their waiting and are scared that the whole world will forget about them and will let them stay there indefinitely.

It is fear of the unknown conditions that await them elsewhere, particularly in light of the conditions they have found on arrival being far below their expectations and, for a large number of people, their struggle for refugee status. It may be that some of these fears, doubts and apprehensions are groundless and unjustified. Except for a limited number of media, some medical staff and some officials, very few people have ever visited any of these government camps.

What refugees know about the camps comes from people who have moved back to open camps, sometimes after just a few days. The only other available sources of information include the channel News That Moves which try to dispel false rumours and to provide objective and verified information and the Facebook page of Are You Syrious, a Serbian-based organisation.

In its defence, the Greek Asylum Service announced in mid-May that it is developing an app for mobile phones that will help disseminate information about the asylum process in Greece. According to News that Moves, researchers of the Department of Informatics and Telematics of the Harokopio University in Athens are developing the software, which will be launched at the beginning of July.

Meanwhile, Greece’s Migration department should probably try to communicate better. It should explain to refugees where they are being taken and what is waiting for them there; describe what facilities and services will be available; make sure that family, relatives and friends are kept together. Spending more on communication may be more efficient and less costly than sending hundreds of policemen in riot gear to evacuate people and to have a helicopter circling the camp for hours.

This article has been published on VoxEurop.

Former Ellinikon International Airport. The site is now hosting refugees.

Turkey, a place called home

Schengen — Wed, 10 Aug 2016 22:38:29 +0000

Çeşme, Turkey. Edges Of Schengen. In the distance are the lights of the Greek island of Chios, Greece.

Words : Véronique Saunier – Turkey, a place called home

A few weeks into the EU-Turkey agreement on refugee resettlement, a report from Turkey’s Aegean coast shows that a growing number of migrants are choosing to stay.

With tears in his eyes, Mohammed tells how his younger brother was beheaded by ISIS because he wanted to quit the group he had joined a few months before. A 27-year old former Damascus University student, he works as a waiter in a bar facing Izmir’s Basmane railway station. Locals continue to call the area “Little Syria” although refugees can no longer to be seen either by the railway station, or in the nearby Culture Park, or in any of the adjacent streets. The only traces of the asylum seekers who flooded Izmir in the last few months are the occasional life jackets that are still displayed in the shops.

The deserted cafes and streets and the relative calm around the railway station and ferry terminal are the direct consequence of what everyone refers to as the EU-Turkey agreement: on 18 March 2016, EU leaders and Turkey agreed to end the irregular migration from Turkey to the EU and replace it instead with legal channels to resettle refugees in the EU. The aim is to replace disorganised, chaotic, irregular and dangerous migratory flows by organised, safe and legal pathways to Europe for those entitled to international protection in line with EU and international law.

According to the agreement migrants who have already reached the Greek islands are returned to Turkey from where their resettlement to European countries is supposed to be processed. The agreement took effect as of 20 March 2016, and 4 April 2016 was set as the target date for the start of returns of people arriving in Greece after 20 March and of the first resettlement.

One month later, the few occasional migrants who still arrive in Izmir are immediately directed toward a collecting point where their case is assessed, according to a staff worker (who does not wish to disclose his name) working for the Association for Solidarity with Asylum Seekers and Migrants (ASAM). The main objective of this association is to provide support and to meet the basic needs of the refugees and asylum seekers materially, but also by providing legal and social counseling.

He says Syrians receive different treatment from migrants of other nationalities. Non-Syrians are taken to a collection point also known as removal centre, where they wait for their case to be reviewed or to be sent back to their original country.

Syrians, on the other hand, are transferred to one of the 62 satellite cities where they are allowed to settle. There they have to register within 15 days of their arrival and after a thorough investigation of their background that may take up to several months, they are given a temporary protection (TP) ID card that entitles them to remain in Turkey. “We mostly want to make sure they have no criminal background or terrorist training,” explains a civil servant from the DGMM, the government agency responsible for the registration of asylum seekers and for the issuance of temporary protection ID cards.

Izmir’s DGMM office in Sokak street near the Kemeralti bazaar sees a regular stream of asylum seekers who either come to register or to get their documents once they are ready. On the day we visit, a family of five (who do not wish to be named or photographed) modestly show us their brand new IDs, a simple black and white laminated card with a blurred photo.

With these in hand, they can now legally live in one of the 62 satellite cities scattered in Turkey where they are provided with free education and health care but where they have to fend for themselves in terms of employment and accommodation.

The waiter Mohammed, who has been in Izmir for seven months, has given up the idea of resettling abroad. After his brother’s killing, he and two of his other siblings embarked on the dangerous trip to Europe via Turkey and after failed attempts to cross over to Greece decided to stay in Turkey. Now that his applications to study in universities in the US and in Canada have been rejected, he is resigned to wait for the end of the conflict in Syria, here in Turkey. “I am, we are all hopeful that it will end and that we can go back,” he says before hurrying off from our table to serve new customers.

Migrants in Turkey are increasingly choosing to stay here. In Çeşme, 100 km west of Izmir on the Aegean coast, just six miles from the Greek island of Chios, and once a hotspot for migrants destined for the EU, there are no migrants to be seen. The local police say that they have received orders to escort migrants to Izmir. The coast guards, traumatized by months of perilous sea rescues and of recovering bodies of migrants who did not make it to the shore, say that they have not been called for the past few weeks.

On the night of Lailat al-Mi’raj (the Muslim Ascension night) we meet three Syrian refugees. They walk around Çeşme with some Kurdish colleagues and share sweets as is the tradition on Lailat night. Like Muhammad, they have decided to stay in Turkey. They work as labourers in a brick factory and say it is easier for them to settle down here: “Unlike in Europe we are free to follow our religion here, our wives can wear the hijab and we feel comfortable socialising with Kurds,” they say.

Some Turks complain that Syrians, who accept to work for a third of normal salaries, are making life harder for them. There were even protests in Dikili over plans to build a refugee camp there. However, generally speaking, Turkish citizens have shown understanding and solidarity towards the refugees.

In Manisa, one of the 62 satellite cities where Syrians are welcome to settle, local people say that they are not bothered by the presence of Syrian refugees and that they are well integrated.

Back in Izmir, we meet Burhanettin Kansizoglu, Head of the IMHAD, a Muslim organization which promotes education and cultural activities. According to Kansizoglu, IMHAD has helped setting up five temporary education centres for Syrian migrants including one dedicated school in Konak that provides daily classes, transportation and food for up to 1800 students. But he estimates that as many Syrian children do not go to school due to lack of funds and space. IMHAD recruits teachers from the Syrian community and students who attend school follow Syria’s official curriculum. Apart from the teachers who receive a salary of 1000 TL (300 euros) a month, all the other IMHAD workers are volunteers.

Grade 9 student, 16 year old Beyza Karatas, is one of them. She says she and her classmates organize fundraising charity events and playgroup activities for Syrian children. Beyza attends an experimental, girls only, Muslim school in Izmir which in addition to the standard Turkish curriculum teaches Arabic and English. After school activities include kickboxing, Tae Kwon Do and archery. She and all her friends are ambitious and say they want to become lawyers, doctors and airline pilots. But their ultimate ambition, as they unanimously say, “is to save the world.”

This article has been published on VoxEurop.

Dikili, Turkey. Accross the narrow strip of sea is the Greek island of Lesbos.