Another \u201cthank you\u201d message from the family members of the people buried last week. Right below, two missed calls and several multilingual messages that express frustration for the lack of information: Where is her body? Why will no one tell us when we can bury her?<\/p>\n
My friend asked me to take one of her friends to an appointment, so the day starts early today. I drop off the friend and her baby at the Kara Tepe refugee camp and drive to the next village for coffee while I wait for them. It seems like summer is already here; the sun is strong even at 8 a.m. I buy my coffee and breakfast at the village bakery, and I can’t help but notice that the bakers’ English has improved considerably since I last visited years ago. They seem a lot friendlier to me now, too.<\/p>\n
On the glass showcase, I spot several handwritten notes from people thanking the bakers for their kindness and for making them feel “at home while away from home.” Something else catches my eye: many of the notes end with phrases like “may God bless you.” My mind quickly runs through the list of Christian NGOs, and I remember that this village hosts one of the biggest. With that in mind, it’s not hard to imagine why the bakers have suddenly become friendly anglophiles.<\/p>\n
With my Freddo Espresso in hand, I walk to the tiny fishing port. The view is idyllic: an Orthodox church with a silver cupola sits at the forefront of the village, followed by a line of seafood restaurants and tavernas. The small port is filled with little fishing boats and pleasure craft. I sit and contemplate as I sip my morning coffee. The sun blinds me. The morning fog makes the Kara Tepe camp in the distance almost disappear. I can barely see it. It’s a great metaphor for what the Government is attempting: to render migrants invisible. The white tents behind the fog look just as eerie as the stories that the people living in them portray.<\/p>\n
There aren\u2019t many people out yet. It’s the first working day after Easter, and the island’s population is still recovering from several days of overdrinking and overeating. On days like this, everything becomes a little more obvious. The few people at the port are a mix of all the layers that this island holds. Fishermen work on their nets at the end of the port. The people working at the kafeneios <\/em>[1]<\/sup><\/a>Ed. Note: Kafeneio is a traditional style caf\u00e9 or bar in Greece, usually frequented only by men<\/span><\/span>