This post is the final installment (although I will continue to write about this topic in many forms – your feedback is welcome in the survey at the bottom of this post!) in my diary posts on volunteering in a refugee camp in Northern France with the Roland Levinsky Memorial scholarship. You can read the first three posts here: 1, 2, 3.
In Ljubljana, we spent the night behind bars, locked into the cell of a political prisoner.
As the sun sank, there was no view of the night sky, but rather just the navy-painted ceiling and my imagination. In the darkness, I could hear the distant clangs of other barred doors locking. Hours later, through one small square window chiseled in a meter of stone, the sun rose.
This is the second installment in my short series about volunteering in a refugee camp in France. You can read my first post here.
As some of you may remember from my impassioned word-vomit post a few months ago on why (and how) travelers should support refugees, in March I received a scholarship to help me volunteer at a refugee camp.
Well, the time has come for me to actually volunteer! The scholarship donors informed me that they like to keep up to date on the experience via social media and blogs, so I figured, well, obviously Endless Distances is the perfect outlet for that.
I might as well hibernate for the rest of my life because I’ve already achieved my ultimate goal – I recently got to sustainably swim with manatees in Florida. I’ve gone to Florida almost every year since I was born (to visit my grandparents), so the opportunity to sustainably swim with manatees in Florida has been a long time coming!
I am of the opinion that as people who like to travel, as people who enjoy culture (of any kind), we have a duty to protect refugees. We are the people who have seen the world. Who have seen the art in Russia and tasted the street food in China and drank in the pubs in Scotland. We know that the world is full of people who are DIFFERENT than us, and more importantly, we value this: we take their art home, we wander their museums, we recreate their recipes, we fill scrapbooks with bits of their culture. Is it not our duty to protect these people of different cultures when they need us?