Standing on the highest point of the Greek island of Lesbos in the first light of the morning, Kinan Kadouni would peer carefully through his binoculars to see if he could spot a boat. Where are they? Are they headed in the right direction? How many people does the boat have? Is the boat even moving? A million such questions would race through his head while scanning the Aegean Sea.
Lesbos is an island that faces the Turkish coast on the Gulf of Edremit, the two separated by the Mytilini Strait. It was this route that thousands of desperate refugees from Syria were taking to enter Europe to seek asylum from the conflict that continues to plague their country.
“If a boat is in the middle of the sea and it’s not moving, that means they have a broken engine,” says Kadouni, “then we call the police and the coastguard so they can go and help them.”
When Kinan Kadouni made the precarious journey from Syria in 2010, he was one of the only two Syrian asylum-seekers in his shelter in Europe. Last month, he arrived in Lesbos, Greece as one of the few Arabic-speaking volunteers in the area, there were up to 7,000 Syrian refugees arriving every single day
The real work, however, begins if the boat is moving. Volunteers like Kinan then descend towards the beaches and wave bright orange life jackets or shiny silver emergency blankets or both to show the boats where it is safe to come on shore. The other side of the island is rocky and dangerous.
Once the boat is close, Kinan springs into action. “Come closer!” he yells in both English and Arabic towards the boat hoping that no one would jump off it before it reaches the shore. “You have arrived,” he tells them, “Now you are safe.”
Some of the refugees that arrive are sick or wounded. All of them are wet. The first order of business is usually to find them dry clothes to wear, get them access to medical care, give them food and water and finally, send them to the camps. “They can get clearance papers to be able to book a ferry,” says Kinan, so they can continue their journey onwards into Europe.
In fact, before arriving on foreign shores, Kadouni thought he had a fair idea of what to expect. “When I saw it with my eyes,” he says referring to the scale of the crisis, “I realised that I knew nothing.” Up to 4,000 refugees would arrive on a ‘normal’ day, according to him. On the island where he was stationed, the number would often go up to 7,000.
But Kinan Kadouni was fortunate to meet two good Samaritans in Greece, even though that too was by chance and not by design.