"Doing an EVS really makes you feel part of an international community, and already I feel like I'm making some great friendships through it."
Hello all, my name's Joe and I'm currently doing my EVS project in the town of Klagenfurt, Austria, where I'm working for 12 months in the office of the Landesjugendreferat Kärnten - the youth department of the regional government. I got here at the beginning of September, and was welcomed by Heidi, my boss and mentor, who picked me up from the airport and showed me to my accommodation before taking me out to try some of the local cuisine (which is amazing, I hasten to add!). I'm living in a student hall attached to the university in the town, and my room is basically a small studio flat - bedroom, bathroom and a little cooking area are all included.
At the project so far I'm mainly helping out in and around the office, doing odd admin tasks related to the office's work as the EVS sending organisation for this part of Austria. I'm in the fortunate position of having studied German before, so the language isn't posing too many difficulties - although I am having a bit of trouble getting the hang of the local dialect, which is idiosyncratic to say the least. I've also had the opportunity to take a 3 week language course at the university, which was really useful and has also helped me make friends among the Erasmus students studying here. The hall where I live is very international, full of students from across the world, and it's been really interesting to get to know them all. I've also been attending far too many dodgy student parties, but that's neither here nor there...
I've also managed to do a bit of travelling, with visits to Graz, Salzburg and most recently Vienna for my on-arrival training. The latter especially was really rewarding, as I got to meet volunteers from all over Europe working across Austria. Doing an EVS really makes you feel part of an international community, and already I feel like I'm making some great friendships through it.
I was about to leave for a year in Russia. I’d been there before, and had memories of endless blocks of concrete boxes, gruff people and knotted bureaucracy at every step. I wanted some sun before I left. I wanted mountains and blue skies, a complete change of scenery and culture, something exciting before the slog! In fact, I got far more than I’d bargained for.
I picked a workcamp in Morocco. It wasn’t my first choice, which was in an isolated village in the Atlas Mountains, but in Chefchaouen, a touristy town in the “Spanish” north where we would be renovating the Casbah. I got hold of guidebooks – and panicked!! The Rough Guide leads the way in painting a terrifying picture of Moroccans and their country. I was expecting constant hassle from taxi drivers, gangs of street-children, shop keepers, men, pick pockets – everybody, in fact! I dug out old baggy clothes that covered me from the neck down, and scarves for my hair just in case. It’s impossible to buy Moroccan dirhams outside the country, and the guidebooks assured me that airport currency exchanges were bound to be shut. My flight would arrive early evening, and I had visions of finding myself in Tangiers (according to the guidebook, the worst introduction to the country), penniless and with nowhere to sleep.
My heart sank as the flight was delayed – we were now due to arrive at midnight. The heat was still radiating from the runaway as we walked to visa control. The queues stretched out of the building, and, sitting on my rucksack during the hour-long wait, I started talking to a young couple who were also heading for Chefchaouen. The boy had been once before, but the town is famous for its hash, and he wanted to show his girlfirend. We got a taxi (later I realised what a luxury it was, only 3 people in one taxi!) and, at 4 o’clock in the morning stopped to ask some men smoking by a fountain for a hotel. Half asleep we followed one of them into the maze of streets of the Medina, or old town, and found ourselves a space on the roof of a tiny hotel. It wasn’t long before I was woken by the call to prayer, and soon the sun was too hot to sleep any longer.
My first glimpse of Morocco was staggering. Somehow, during the night I had been transported from a Gatwick departure lounge to this rooftop-terrace. The town was white – chalky white-washed walls against the folds of stony white hills. The sky was the bright summer blue that we so rarely get in Britain, and the walls were painted to waist-height in the same colour. Looking down I could only see one narrow path – the houses were so close together as to obscure all the rest. There was a sense of calm, and peace and the sounds of a market in the distance. Two women came by, in colourful skirts and red and white head-scarves. It all looked so beautiful that I couldn’t believe this was the same country that the guidebooks were so scathing about!
I wandered down tiny cobbled lanes in the shade of the blue and white houses. They all led down to a wide, open square, with the Casbah on one side, and a row of cafes on the other. In the corner was a mosque, and a woman was white-washing the walls with a brush tied onto a long stick. The couple and I ordered glasses of tea, which came in tall glasses encrusted with sugar and crammed with a handful of mint. I left to explore the market, a bustling crush of people inspecting mounds of vegetables, chickens squawking in coops, baskets piled with spices, pots, clothes and things I could only guess the use of. Every-one was far too busy to pay the slightest attention to me, and I soon completely forgot the warnings of the guidebooks.
The camp wasn’t due to start until the next day, but I decided to go and see if anyone had already arrived at the Casbah. I found an old man poking at rows of beautiful flowerbeds with a hoe. He led me up the sandy steps to the director’s office, where I explained that I was looking for a group of volunteers who would be working with him. He listened politely, and told me it would be very kind of me to come and work. In fact, it would be a very good idea to organise the sort of thing I was talking about, but he would have to speak to his boss to see if it was possible. He had obviously heard nothing at all about the project so, somewhat confused but not unduly worried, I set off to the school where we would be staying.
The school was locked for the summer. The old women sitting in the playground looked at me suspiciously, and definitely hadn’t seen anything resembling a workcamp. I set off to call the emergency number. It was an answer-phone. Still, I wasn’t too worried, as I had all the following day to find the camp. I didn’t find it. The answer-phone was still on. After having searched all the schools I could find, traipsed to the bus station and the taxi halt, and still no hint of a workcamp I decided that, if I couldn’t find it tomorrow, I would ignore the guidebook’s warnings and leave Chefchaouen to explore the rest of the country. If it was anything like this town, it would be a fantastic journey.
The third day. I decided to go to the town hall – somebody must know about this workcamp! An usher in polished uniform led me past queues of men in their long djellabas and yellow pointed-toed babouches. I sat on an ancient carved bench in an upstairs balcony, watching the men milling around the tiled courtyard below. The mayor called me in to his office, - a beautiful, stately traditional room filled with more men in djellabas. They looked at me curiously as I again explained what I was looking for – and suddenly some-one knew where it was! At last – the workcamp was found!
The usher hand-delivered me to a school – 32 people rushing about preparing dinner and playing cards and banging derbouka drums and talking and lying in the sun – this was definitely a workcamp! I leant my rucksack up against the wall, added my shoes to the pile at the edge of the carpet and went to say hello to the nearest person.
I didn’t realise it at the time, but the very first person I met at that camp, I would meet at a camp the following year, and the year after that – and now, I see him every day. We were married in Morocco last October, so it was a good thing I put all that effort into finding the camp!
When I applied last summer for a placement in Russia, the advice given was to be flexible and be prepared for basic living conditions. This was to be my fifth visit to Russia, and my fourth volunteer project, so even before I was on the train to Heathrow in mid-July I knew this to be good advice. After a short stopover in Moscow, I soon found myself with a Dutch and a Swiss volunteer on an overnight train to Ioshkar-Ola, capital of the remote Republic of Marii El, about halfway between Moscow and the Urals. On arrival we met up with our Russian counterparts and together boarded a bus bound for Elektron, a camp hosting up to around 200 children aged 8 to 15. There was no forgetting its past as a Soviet pioneer camp: the children were grouped into detachments and bedtime was known as 'retreat'. Each detachment consisted of up to forty children and was supervised by several counsellors, of which I was one. The 'pioneers' were lined up and almost marched from activity to activity, while those who lagged behind were reprimanded.
For a Western European volunteer, such discipline took some getting used to. Brought up to believe it to be polite to take time over meals, I now found myself in a country where the opposite seemed to be the case, at least as far as camp life was concerned. I had to explain to my Russian friends that in this situation, as in many others, children in our two countries were brought up in different ways. What was acceptable in one country was often unacceptable in the other. I always found it paid off to take the time to explain these differences. Nobody I met at Elektron had ever been to the West, many had never spoken to a foreigner before, so my friends realised that a British perspective would often be very different from a Russian one!
Given the poverty of the region - Marii El is one of Russia's poorest - I never ceased to admire the way in which, with so few resources, children in Elektron were looked after, entertained, and kept busy from morning to night. There were games, sports, competitions, music, drama, stage productions and, for the first week or so, swimming in the beautiful neighbouring TairLake. Then of course there was the weekly banya - a kind of glorified sauna - which more than made up for the lack of showers and became one of the many highlights of my stay. Two misfortunes interrupted the swimming. The first was the end of the sweltering temperatures towards the end of July. The second was the outbreak of a dysentery epidemic, caused by polluted lake water. Over several days, convoys of ambulances and medical staff arrived and took around a third of the camp's children to hospital. There was even talk of Elektron being closed, but fortunately outside polluters, not the camp, were proved to be at fault, and those of us still in good health were able to stay. Despite all that had happened, the surprises were not over yet. Within days of the dysentery outbreak, one afternoon a hurricane struck. It may only have lasted about half an hour, but it brought with it hailstones the size of golf balls, and its force tore down power cables and trees. For several hours the camp was plunged into darkness, but when power supplies were finally restored we were just relieved that no-one was hurt. By the end of that season (project), I was the only foreigner left, and was excited at the prospect of staying for the final season which, by comparison, was uneventful!
My first three weeks at Elektron had not exactly gone smoothly, but I was fascinated and full of admiration at how my Russian friends had coped with the adversity. I was convinced that if the same had happened in many other countries, there would have been a knee-jerk response and the camp would have been forced to close. This being Russia, however, only when the causes of the epidemic were fully known was a decision taken on whether the final season should go ahead. What struck me most was the maturity of the children throughout the crisis. They did not understand any more than we did what had caused their friends to be taken to hospital, but knew that life went on and kept themselves busy by playing cards, reading and often talking to me about life in the West.
My first season also included an English summer school, so many of our discussions took place in informal English lessons, where the children also played games and were shown postcards and photographs from my native United Kingdom. Many Russian children do not distinguish between different Western countries, and when occasionally I was introduced as an American, I would point out that Marii El was far closer geographically than the United States to the UK and that these Russians were no less European than I. Their culture is rich, their hospitality unrivalled by any other nationality I have encountered, and their humour and endurance in the face of discomfort and hardship humbling to the outside world. With state salaries and pensions at such a low level, those many Russians who survive only by growing fruit and vegetables in their back gardens would put many Westerners to shame.
I for one would have no hesitation in applying to a Russian volunteer project again. A sense of adventure, a fascination and tolerance of other cultures, and a knowledge of the language are all you need. If that sounds like you, then go for it. Barney Smith, barney.smith@gmx.at Û
I chose to do a workcamp in Denmark last summer as the year before I had worked in Finland and I instantly fell in love with Scandinavia! However, working in Copenhagen was slightly different to living the rural, permanently daylight experience in most northern Lapland.
The workcamp in Denmark was organised by MS, a Danish organisation for international co-operation, and we were to take part in the “Solidarity 2000” week of lectures, seminars, conferences and, of course, parties. We stayed in a converted church in central Copen-hagen, five minute’s walk from the train station, shops, and plenty of pubs and cafes. After the Solidarity 2000 week, we had to prepare for the MS tent at the Roskilde festival. At the festival, we were allocated shifts which comprised giving out flyers and promoting MS, and putting on activities in the tent, but most of the time we were free to go and see the bands.
The whole three weeks were extraordinary. I met some of the best people I have ever met and the memories will stay with me forever. Although it was perhaps untypical in the way that there really wasn’t much work to do (and we spent most of the time partying), the learning experience for me was living and spending time with so many international people, along with all of the Danes involved with Solidarity 2000.
A complete diary of the time we had on the workcamp, written by all of the volunteers (and pictures too!) can be found at: http://www.ms.dk/Kampagner/Solidaritet2000/
My name is Petya and I'm from Bulgaria. I came to the UK to work at Concordia as a medium term volunteer for six months. I also participated in one of the UK projects in Seaford as a co-ordinator and I will participate in one more, which is in Brighton. I've had a great time here in the UK and for me this kind of work is very interesting and gives you opportunities to learn more about different cultures, to travel, to know how to deal with different situations and people.
In my country we also organise a lot of interesting projects, so if you want to have an exciting holiday and in the same time to do something useful you should think about Bulgaria. It is a very beautiful country with a lot of mountains, which offer excellent skiing terrain, and a big part of the Black Sea coasts if you like hot weather and lovely golden sands.
The geographical situation is very interesting; the country is like a crossroad for the Balkan Peninsula. Serbia lies to the West and Macedonia to the Southwest. Greece and Turkey share the southern border, Black Sea is at the East and river Danube is the natural border with Romania on the North.
The country has a Mediterranean climate and the weather is warm for most of the year, but it also can be very cold in the winter especially in the mountains.
Bulgaria has a very old history; it is more of an ancient Slavic nation than Russia. The country was something like a cradle of civilisation and it is national pride that the Cyrillic alphabet which Bulgarian people use has its origins in Bulgaria and should have been exported to Russia and Ukraine.
Bulgarian people are famous with their incredible sense of humour and hospitality. Even in tourist areas curiosity about foreigners is considerable.
Bulgaria has many different and very interesting folk music and customs. In the RodopiMountains you can see people playing on pipe as they do it in Scotland and it is very typical for this region. In the middle part of the country, where Sredna Gora is situated there is very interesting custom to dance over embers. It is very beautiful and picturesque to see.
In March there is one special tradition in Bulgaria – all over the country people make a kind of ornaments from white and red strings - a man figure (in white) and woman figure (in red). They are called Pijo and Penda and the whole ornament is called 'martenitca', which comes from Mart - the Bulgarian word for March. It brings health and happiness and people give them to their friends and family.
Curious to know is that Bulgarian people has opposite way for head movements for yes and no, they move their heads from side to side to signify ‘yes’ and up and down for ‘no’.
Bulgaria is moving fast from the previous communist politic situation to a new democratic future. Soon the country will be a member of The European Community and will continue developing easier and faster.
Viktor, a volunteer from INEX Slovakia, who has also co-ordinated our PeakNational Park project this year, explains why Slovakia is an appealing destination for all bear - or maybe beer(!) - lovers
First of all, please, forget Yugoslavia!!! Although Slovenia sounds similar, it’s not what I am writing about. Slovakia (or SlovakRepublic) is a former sister country of the Czech Republic and those two countries are still very close to each other: common history, similar languages (in Slovakia you might get by with your Czech...) and the love for the beer (where else can you buy a pint for 20 p???)
Slovakia is very favourable for hikers and“nature-lovers" as there are all kinds of landscape ranging from green plains near the river Danube to the exposed peaks of 2500 metres high Tatra mountains. INEX Slovakia is running more than 20 workcamps all around the country, so everybody can find a niche for him/herself. If you do like wine, there is a workcamp in a small village in the middle of the vineyards near the Hungarian boarders, but in case you prefer more action, you might come across a bear (and plenty of beer too....) in the surroundings of the Lom/ Cierny Balog workcamp campsite in mountainous Central Slovakia. Last year I was co-ordinating the latter project and it was a really extraordinary event for everybody. Imagine being daily driven to the worksite by a small forest railway, taking a bath in a fresh stream or cooking in an old military field kitchen....just amazing.
If you feel more like being “urban-type“ you should definitely come and see Bratislava , the capital, where the INEX ‘s office is based ( sorry , but no workcamps run here....). Visiting its two castles, historic centre and experiencing the pedestrian zone atmosphere with plenty of cafes and beer cellars is what you shouldn’ t miss. Besides calling in our office, of course....
Hello all, my name's Joe and I'm currently doing my EVS project in the town of Klagenfurt, Austria, where I'm working for 12 months in the office of the Landesjugendreferat Kärnten - the youth department of the regional government. I got here at the beginning of September, and was welcomed by Heidi, my boss and mentor, who picked me up from the airport and showed me to my accommodation before taking me out to try some of the local cuisine (which is amazing, I hasten to add!). I'm living in a student hall attached to the university in the town, and my room is basically a small studio flat - bedroom, bathroom and a little cooking area are all included. 
