It's All (Five and a Half Weeks of) Greek to Me

I’m not sure why I didn’t make this joke sooner and I don’t know why no one told me about the enormous opportunity I nearly missed. Appropriate as well because it literally is all Greek to me, six weeks later and I understand NOTHING. Someone made a joke about something being spelled with Pi and all I have to say is I’m sorry but this isn’t Year 10 maths and I have no point of reference for you anymore.

Enough of that, no more Greek for me. Instead, some thank yous - thank you first to the coffee shop down my street whose staff remember my order every time I go in, I’ve never had that before and it’s actually lovely. Thank you to the staff in my local supermarket who recently let me get away with being 3 cents short. Thank you to my Airbnb host for being a persistent babe and letting me turn our kitchen into an office space for 8 hours of the day.

Thank you mainly though, to everyone I volunteer with - for laughing at my shit jokes, not laughing at my shit tan lines, and letting me harass you about bug repellent even though we’re not sure it works and it’s too late because we’ve all been eaten alive by now anyway. You’re all angels, not just because of the work you do here (of which I am constantly in awe), but also because you can still dig deep enough to be smiling, and kind, and wonderful, even in 40 degree heat when we’re all exhausted and we might well never be able to face another garlic clove again.

And now, one last picture of this particular sunset.

I hear there are people who live here and don’t spend all their spare time by the sea but that sounds unlikely to me. Where else would I read and drink coffee if not by the water?

People who read this blog last year will remember that when someone left Jordan we asked them three questions - Best Moment/Worst Moment/What Have You Learned About Yourself? I have very much enjoyed this concept and therefore, forced it upon lots of people I meet.

Best Moment

There are so many. So many that I won’t share because they involve other people and they’re distinctly private. Many more that were rewarding but I couldn’t pick one in particular. So the best moment was probably the series of moments when I was prompted to think about what I want to do with this experience and everything I’ve taken from it. Good and bad, it’s only made me more certain in how I feel about NGO and aid work and all the complexities that come with it. I have learnt so much and seen so much, and that has been invaluable in shaping how I’ll go forward.

Best individual moment has to be the meal we had on Monday night - the best meal I had in the whole six weeks by a long way.

Worst Moment

The day it rained has to be worst individual moment number one. Mainly because I didn’t anticipate this would also mean it would be cold, and was therefore, not dressed appropriately and completely miserable as a result.

This blog is not, and never will be, a place for me to write about how awful the conditions for refugees are. This work is my career, and as a result I have committed to not speaking about it on here or any other social media platform. The many frustrations I have are too complex to explain here and it would be impossible to go into them without it seeming like I’m attacking one group or aspect of the crisis. What I will say is this - we should not be afraid to ask for change just because we believe something is already objectively ‘good’. Things can always be better.

What Did You Learn About Yourself

Maybe six weeks isn’t long enough to learn anything about yourself. I did find out I’m physically stronger than my weedy arms would suggest. That it is possible for my legs to tan, that you can trust people you’ve only known for a few days (and sometimes they might see you more clearly than people you’ve known for years - or at least be more willing to tell you). That I can be hot and tired and therefore, largely without the energy to filter myself, and still have people want to be around me.

Mainly I suppose, as a result of one situation or another, that it’s okay to say ‘this is a flaw I have and it’s part of who I am and I don’t care badly enough to change’ - because if not that, then something else right? Perfection isn’t coming so why not learn to live with the flaws you’ve got? And, as long as they’re not complete life-ruiners - who really cares? I used to say I was a people-pleaser in a similar way I used to say I was vegetarian, in that, in an ideal world I would be  but in reality I am roundly terrible at it.

*****

I’m on Twitter - @clairegillesp - where I’m effusing about a podcast made by someone I was lucky enough to go to university with, it’s called Connected & Disaffected and it’s so well-produced it makes me eager to create more of my own quality content.

I’m on Instagram - clairegillesp - where Greece photos have finally come to an end, soon to be replaced by miles of square apartment blocks and desert landscapes in the coming weeks.

I’m still listening to the Haim album - Found it in Silece and You Never Knew are on rotation right now - friends will be unsurprised to hear they are both about the foolishness of men who do not appreciate you, which is my favourite genre of song.

There is a Facebook page for this blog which it would be lovely if you like and followed and also means you don’t have to rely on me remembering to share these posts on my personal accounts.

xx