This week, from January 2 through January 9, I am volunteering again in the children’s safe activity space at the reception center for Ukrainian refugees in Przemysl, Poland. This week has been remarkably quiet; it seems very few Ukrainian refugees are on the move right now. So each day, we are only hosting a handful of kids in the childrens’ activity area. Some of the other volunteers worry that there is not enough to do, and they feel a little bit bored because it is so quiet. In particular, those who have specially set aside time from their personal or professional lives and traveled a long distance to participate in this volunteer work are a little bit disappointed and frustrated, because they feel their valuable time is wasted.
I, on the other hand, am just as happy watching over a few kids as a crowd. Certainly the crowd is more exciting and as a volunteer you are constantly “on the go” and feel more stimulated. But even with the smaller sized groups, I still understand that the work we volunteers are doing by just showing up and being here is important. Because you never know, even day-to-day, when there will be a lot of refugees and when there will be few. So the best we can do is to turn out each day, ready for anything. It’s similar to serving as a firefighter or a police officer — you hope each shift you work is completely uneventful, because that means the world is a gentler, more peaceful place. But on the other hand, you understand that you are employed because society recognizes a risk that needs to have someone on duty to guard against “just in case”.
Also, even though watching over a large crowd of kids is more adrenaline-pumping, working with a small group can also be very rewarding, because as a volunteer you have more opportunity to interact personally with the kids, and you might actually be able to form some limited sense of rapport with a child, and maybe also the parents, in certain circumstances. These closer interactions can lead to a type of inarticulate personal bonding, which leaves us with memories that will last a lifetime, even though we know we will probably never see those kids again.
For instance, this week one little four-year old boy stayed at the reception center for four days, because he had an infection and needed to complete a course of treatment with antibiotics before traveling on to Germany. Even though he was sick, this little boy was still a non-stop bundle of energy. I think he made friends with almost everyone in the reception center, from the janitors to the chief Polish Red Cross administrator in charge of managing the entire reception center. This little boy was traveling with his father, and they were on their way to meet his mother and two younger brothers, who had already traveled to Germany separately.
I also vividly remember a brother and sister, about 9 and 11 years old. They were very “quiet” kids; the older sister could sit by herself painting pictures for hours on end, and the younger brother liked jigsaw puzzles. He would sit and work a jigsaw puzzle all by himself; he didn’t need to be “cheered on”. But this pair of siblings also loved to play in groups when there were other kids around. They weren’t at all shy or introverted. I remember one afternoon, two of the other volunteers were using the language translation apps on their phones to chat with the sister. As they became more intimate in their conversation, they all got more and more frustrated about not being able to communicate directly. So the sister organized a “school” for these two volunteers, to teach them some basic Ukrainian. She used three little A-frame chalkboards that we have at the center for drawing activities – one for herself as the teacher and one for each “pupil.” She taught them basic greetings and conversation openers and also how to count. I was really impressed when I saw this activity, because in all the weeks I had volunteered in the children’s activity space, this was the first time I had seen anyone (not to mention, one of the refugee kids) make any serious effort to overcome the language barrier.
I believe these kids will all someday become very prominent people in whatever field of endeavor they go into, and I’m proud to have done a very limited service to help them on their way and I wish them godspeed.
I am a bit sad because I know I will probably never see these kids again. But on the other hand, when I meet amazingly accomplished people in the future, I may recall these kids with whom I spent a few short hours in the children’s activity space at the Przemysl refugee reception center and ponder whether the person before me may have been one of those kids. Their ethos will continue to inspire me forever.