A young Ukrainian toddler smooths her pretty dress down and runs over to her mother. She’s just come back from playing with some French children attending today’s fundraiser for refugees.
In the middle of the room surrounded by beautiful paintings the kind and loving people from Orgiva set up a warm comfy space to sit on the floor and they they started with three Oms. We held hands and slowly settled into our bodies. I held onto that feeling, of being here and now, of smiling faces, colorful tables full of arts and crafts, good food and cake.
We collected some money and the women mad some money but not near enough to make any large dent. The event was beautifully set up, the music amazing but the turnout could have been better. I feel a little sad about the lack of support. Everyone had more than enough to eat, a vegan soup, a couscous salad, more cake, home made lemonade.
The local council organised a sort of play event also to fund-raise on the same day, it is a little frustrating that communication and collaboration is lacking in this direction. Perhaps that’s something that can be worked on in future.
Whilst promoting the event I also had a woman reacting to me very aggressively, a lot of whataboutisms and half arsed assumptions spouting Russian propaganda. Is this some sort of indication that some locals are actually hostile to the idea of welcoming refugees? I hope not. People are generally supportive or so I think.
My legs are tired from standing all day.
The woman from Donbas, twice a refugee now living in a Lanjaron convent often stood around looking zoned out and wiped away tears a few times. No amount of cake and good will could make right what has happened to her, to all displaced Ukrainians, she has been suffering since 2014.
The things we do are nice and helpful but no replacement of one’s own peaceful home and the comfort of being with one’s own family.
I lay back in bed exhausted with this war, overwhelmed by sadness and wishing I could do more.
