News: In Syria, People Are Being Deliberately Starved (Politics)

http://www.cnn.com/2016/01/15/middleeast/syria-madaya-starvation/ By Don Melvin, Nick Paton Walsh and Tim Hume, CNN. Fri January 15, 2016. The starvation in Syria is no act of God -- not the result of drought or flooding or crop failure. This famine is man-made. And it is drawing international condemnation. The use of starvation as a weapon in Syria is "a war crime," U.N. Secretary-General Ban Ki-moon said Thursday. "U.N. teams have witnessed scenes that haunt the soul," Ban said. "The elderly and children, men and women, who were little more than skin and bones: gaunt, severely malnourished, so weak they could barely walk, and utterly desperate for the slightest morsel." He spoke after U.N. convoys had finally arrived in Syrian towns to deliver food to malnourished residents. "Let me be clear: The use of starvation as a weapon of war is a war crime," he said. "All sides -- including the Syrian government, which has the primary responsibility to protect Syrians -- are committing this and other atrocious acts prohibited under international humanitarian law." The civil war in Syria is nearing its five-year mark, with the brutal regime of President Bashar al-Assad pitted against rebels. The terrorist group ISIS has taken over large swaths of the country and neighboring Iraq. More than 250,000 Syrians -- mostly civilians -- have been killed, according to the United Nations. About 10.5 million Syrians have fled their homes -- and more than 4 million of those have left the country.

Lesvos - Dec 28-31, 2015 - Our Last Few Days in Skala - slideshow (Travel)

Lesvos - Dec 26, 2015 - Day Off in Skala & Molyvos - slideshow (Travel)

Dec, 2015 - Lifeguard Bob & Platanos - Lesvos - slideshow (Travel)

Julie on NPR !!!

Dec, 2015 - Christmas Party at Lighthouse Camp in Skala Sikamias - Lesvos - slideshow (Travel)

Lesvos - Dec 24, 2025 - Text (Travel)

Do they know it's Christmas time at all? Remember that song? It comes to mind. Not that the refugees celebrate Christmas. It is getting rather surreal around here now as some of the volunteers welcoming refugees to shore are wearing toy antlers or Santa hats. There is such relief and happiness for most of the refugees as they enter the camp. Some, especially women and children, seem more vulnerable. Most women refugees in the Women's Tent seem to get with the program quickly and get their "new" leggings, pants, socks, shoes, shirts, pullovers, jackets, scarves, hats for themselves and their children. This morning I came into the tent and found a boy of about 8 crying and trembling violently. I went to him and stripped him of his soaking wet clothes. I don't think he appreciated this stranger man-handling him. I wrapped him in every cozy blanket I could find. He wailed. I realized that the woman next to him was his mother. She looked stunned - maybe a sort of shock. She was also wet. I saw to it that she got a change of clothes, but left the boy for the time being just to warm up. He wasn't fond of me and needed some time to himself, I thought. I would just check in with him and the trembling did stop eventually. It's a tricky thing in the women's tent because there are a lot of tiny babies and once they've had their clothes and diapers changed, their mothers need a change of clothes. I held a few babies while women changed their clothes. Some cried, but you kind of have to just let them. The women trust us and even seem to enjoy the comradery and seem reluctant to leave the tent. The children's play area is near the changing tent. It has a small tent full of stuffed animals and books. There is a small plastic slide and a furry rocking horse. This is the next stop for women and children after the changing tent. I don't know if it is a cultural thing, but the men seem to gather around the campfires, but not the women or children. Within the hour, they've made themselves at home, serving themselves tea from the large dispenser and packing their pockets with oranges and granola bars for the journey ahead. Soaking wet backpacks that were left behind, have been hanging on the olive trees to dry and anyone is welcome to take one. Information booklets written in Arabic give them some information about the process ahead. Although we have been instructed not to take pictures of the refugees out of respect for their privacy, there was a guy who asked for a selfie with me. I happily obliged. There are a lot of Scandinavian volunteers with Lighthouse and maybe I've said this before and I know one shouldn't generalize, but these people are just wonderful. They are low key, but with a sense of humor and no prima donnas among them. One can meet volunteers from so many countries here and some really wonderful people among them. Volunteers are from Norway, Sweden, Germany, Spain, Brazil, Ireland, Canada, the U.S., Switzerland, Italy and more. We all work together guided by the shift's camp manager to first make sure the refugees immediate needs are met and then later, we say and wave goodbye to them as they enter the UNHCR vans that take them to stage two. By now everything is calm and the children are all smiles playing with the small toys they've been given. At the moment, there is nothing better than having your smile and wave returned to you by refugees of all ages leaving in the van. Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night.

Lesvos, Dec 23, 2025 - Text (Travel)

I asked Google and confirmed that it is indeed the 23rd. This is my fourth day volunteering. Night shifts are broken into two (12-4 & 4-8am). I've been signing up for the 4am shifts and though they are supposed to end at 8am, that is just when the activity usually begins. So, I usually stay to at least noon - once most of the refugees have moved on to stage two. Each day is special and somewhat different, but it is still a blur because once the activity starts, it is constant for four hours or so. I'll start with this morning. I came to the camp at about quarter to 4. Different from the day before, there were not only volunteers around fire, but three young refugees. I was informed that a boat had come in shortly before and that there were families asleep in the tents. The three young men were similar in age (17 and 18), but different in character. To be fair, one was near nodding off, another seemed rather serious and though his English was good, he didn't seem interested in talking. The third was an entirely different story. He seemed so happy and excited. He spoke English and told us how he left his mother and two younger sisters back in Syria. He said his father was dead (We didn't ask how). He said that it is very dangerous for a man of his age in Syria because the army is desperate to recruit young men. I asked if it were Assad's army. He said there were many. The quiet young man chimed in with, "Mafia." "Mafia" was also the answer when we asked who was responsible for getting them a boat. Best I could make out, transportation is $1000. They pay with a sort of PayPal once they make it here. That keeps business flowing on the Turkish side I suppose as refugees there get word of safe passages. The trip across the water takes just over an hour. The Spanish Coast Guard (Proactiva) took them to the Greek shore as their motor had died. The happy young man said they had come upon another boat with a dead motor. I'm not sure if it's a ruse or not, because, as I understand it, by (Greek) law, the Coast Guard can only rescue boats in distress, so, at some point, it helps to be in distress, if you will. Also, regarding nationalities, the refugees I've encountered have not just been Syrian. They have been Afghani, Iranian, Pakistani and other, even Turkish. I hope I'm not releasing any secrets here. I think it probably helps to be either a Syrian or an Afghani as these have "most-favored-refugee" status. The night saw no more activity, but at dawn I heard of a large wooden boat coming to the harbor. I grabbed some thermal/mylar blankets and headed down the road with the camp doctor, Margo (from Wisconsin). A large group of volunteers from Platanos was there. Platanos is a group that does what we do at Lighthouse, but they have a political slant. They are self-proclaimed anarchists from Greece. Take that to mean what you will. But with ridiculous laws that compell refugees to break the law and cooperate with "the Mafia" to make to Greece, maybe some anarchism is in order. Walking from camp to Goji Cafe from whence I am writing this, I looked out on the water and saw the huge ferry that brings people to and from Lesvos and Turkey. My understanding is that it costs 5 Euros. How ironic is that?! Back to this morning. With mylar blanket in hand, we watched the boat come in guided by Spanish Coast Guard in the water in wetsuits. A tiny baby was handed down off the boat. It was emotional for me. If that lifeguard had slipped and that baby fell into the frigid water, it could have been the end. I asked Margo if she had seen the baby. She said she watching to see if anyone was in distress and asked me to see that the baby was responsive. The baby was bundled in his father's arms and both were content. I managed to get the lifejackets off a couple of kids and wrap them in the mylar blankets. They looked rather stunned, but once joined by the rest of their family, their comfort level increased. This group went to the Platanos camp. Another boat soon followed that came to the shore of our (Lighthouse) camp. I was instructed to help (adorable Norwegian) Audar distribute dry clothes in the Men's Tent. I happily did. He is so low key. Nothing troubles him. Once that was under control, I looked in at the Women's Tent where it was chaos as usual with screaming babies and women sometimes a little particular (fashion wise) as to what they wear. We're not Macy's, so we have to insist, if it fits, it's what's in these days. Unlike gender neutral me, among the refugees there seem to be women's clothes and men's clothes and little overlap. Knowing how cold it is and not knowing their accommodations in the coming days, we try to bundle them up as much as possible. Sometimes the little ones are just barely peering out from wearing a shirt, a jacket, a coat, a hat, mittens and a scarf. We gently shoo them out so we can gather up the wet clothes and separate them into bags of socks, "trousers" (as the Aussie "Dirty Girls" call them) and "general." The shoes are put up on the rocks to dry, or sometimes they line the road next to the beach to get more sun to dry. Even if the "trainers" (What Aussies call sneakers) get washed later, transporting them to the laundry dry means less weight. BTW, see pix of people involved with "Dirty Girls" at this LINK Julie helps them match socks. Susan Sarandon came to our camp and is pictured at the Dirty Girls link. She has given donations to our camp and others. I saw her when she came to the camp. I said, "Susan Sarandon, you are here. It's not just a rumor." She replied, "I'm here." I'm a big fan, but I didn't want to fawn too much as I could see she was getting plenty of interaction with folks. Dirty Girls is such a great concept. It costs money to launder and deliver all those clothes. Consider donating. The two women of Dirty Girls - Alison and Emma are fantastic! But, back to the camp. Once all their needs are met, we have to encourage them to move along to the buses that arrive to take them to stage two up the hill. It's pretty amazing the transformation that takes place - 1. wet, cold, adrift in the Aegean Sea; 2. shuttled by strangers to the shore; 3. Lifted to shore by Aqua Man; 4. Wrapped in metalic looking "blankets"; 5. A short walk down the road and into camp; 6. A sit by one of three campfires for warmth; 7.a tent where clothes are taken off and others put on; 8. A sip of hot tea or soup; some cookies, crackers or a granola bar; 9. Another stop by the fire for the men - only because I have only seen them go there; 10. Then it's good-bye with maybe a cup of milk for the children while they await the next bus. They go from wet and scared, to dry and comfortable within the span of an hour or two. It's really great to be a part of making that happen. For them, for now, all is well and they've survived the most arduous part of their journey - hooray!

Dec, 2025 - Lesvos, Day 4, 5 & ? - Text (Travel)

I'm losing track of the days. Not like it was when I was a kid around Christmastime. I guess I need an advent calendar. I just got off a shift that went from 4am to 2:30pm (it was supposed to go until 3:30, but I slipped out early). I think that was a scheduling mistake, but with all the activity this morning, I wasn't going to make a fuss. There have been boats coming in every morning between 7am and 9am. It is a coordinated effort of lookouts and cell phones. Each shift has a camp manager to direct the volunteers. I like to take the initiative to stand at the refugee entrance. It is beyond the exit, so it can be confusing. I direct them to the gravel path leading to the clothing tents and WCs. I say "Welcome" and "Hello." These people are so happy despite being wet and cold (It is very cold in Greece right now even if you are not wet). Some have no English. You can see their gratitude. This morning I got kisses from some of the women. If you shake their hands, they feel like ice. We had three campfires going. The men take off their wet shoes and try to dry them by the fire, but there isn't time for that. They'll be moving on to stage 2 within the hour. I'm going to sign off for now. Julie is back from camp and we are going to eat our first meal today. We did nosh on snacks also distributed to refugees at the camp.

Dec 19, 2025 - Skala Sikaminias to Stay (a While) - Lesvos - slideshow (Travel)

Dec 18, 2025 - Roadtrip North - Skala Sikamias - Lesvos - slideshow (Travel)

Dec 18 - Roadtrip North - Molyvos

Dec 16 - Athens

Dec, 2025 - Lesvos, Day 3 - Text (Travel)

We left our hotel in a residential area of Mytelini heading north again. We decided to stop in Moria to see the goings on. We thought we must have missed a turn off because we didn't see anything like the converted prison described to us nor any people. We stopped to ask an old man sitting at the side of the road. He knew no English. Julie had a map. I motioned crossing the water from Turkey on the map and he understood. He pointed us in the right direction. We made a turn and then we saw the concrete, the barbed wire and refugees walking up and down the road. There were people selling fruit, SIM cards,etc. Capitalism finds its way everywhere. There was a charging station where people were charging their phones. We got out and walked around. I noticed there were small children. I had some fingerpuppets in a small bag in the car. I went to get some. I put a ducky on my finger and wiggled it and said, "quack, quack." Quack is right thought the little kid. I motioned it to him as to offer it. Maybe he thought I was selling it and shrugged. Then I took it off my finger and into his hand. He understood and appeared happy. Other kids started catching on and came around for their own. By now, both Julie and I were distributing them. One kid came back with his frog wanting a horse, but we had no horses, so he settled for a dog. The mothers seemed quite grateful and Julie reported later that she got hugs and kisses from them. We did a lot of waving and just said "Hello." We did the same as we drove off. Those being let off from buses seemed glad to be there making progress in their journey. Others looked like they had been there a while and wished things moved faster. Driving from there to Skala Julie spoke of how she was so jazzed by that experience. We went back on windy roads to reach our destination of Skala Sikamias. In one curve we encountered two donkeys just standing there by the road without explanation. We stopped for a nonsequitur photo op. We made the turn off to Skala and looking out at the water, we noticed a boat coming in. We parked and hurried over for a look. I took some pix from a distance. These were all men. There was a UNHCR van/bus there to take them immediately to stage 2 up the hill. They go from stage 2 to Moria. This is the protocol. If it is a boat of all men who don't look to be in any distress, they are immediately wisked off to stage 2. This was powerful stuff. Our first encounter with a boat coming in. There were people filming and taking pictures. There were townspeople in the form of little old ladies watching the activity. There were mostly volunteers there to greet and clap once they stepped foot on dry ground. I said, "Salaam." This Arabic word for hello and peace was taught to us by Marwa the day before. We went to the camp where Callie from Indiana showed us around - kitchen, men and women + children's changing areas, etc. We met Norwegian Liv there. She was playing with the little goat, Caroline (whether she is a goat or a lamb is debated in the camp; having seen her, I would call her a goat as she has a furry and not a wooly coat). Caroline is certainly smitten with Liv which is so sweet to watch. Liv runs around and Caroline butts her little head and chases her. We ran into Marwa and put ourselves on the schedule. Julie signed up for the early shift beginning at 7:30am and I signed up for 3:30pm. We checked into our lovely room at Hotel Gorgona. Who knew that my minimal German would come in handy in Greece, but it has here at the hotel where they don't speak any English, but they do speak German. The hotel itself is an older building modernized with Ikea fixtures inside. Our room has a small balcony that looks out at the water beyond. It's all so perfect except that we can only have it for three nights as others coming in have reservations. I guess we'll cross that bridge when we get to it.