Francesco, our International Volunteer Programme Co-ordinator, reports on the Post Season Event held from 23rd – Sunday 25th October 2009 in Brighton at the Whitehawk Youth Centre.
Every year it is great to meet up with many Concordia volunteers during the annual Post Season Event: the atmosphere is always extremely friendly and I do enjoy meeting new friends and catching up with old ones. This year there were 20 of us, 3 Concordia staff members and 17 volunteers, and we spent the weekend between volunteering in the local area, games, drinks and cultural activities.
On Friday evening, we had an abundant and delicious meal prepared by Fiona with the help of the volunteers and, following the consolidated tradition of all Concordia’s events, we played a few silly games and then had a few drinks and time to chat.
On Saturday, we woke up to a grey and rainy day…not the best thing to have when you are supposed to do some outdoor volunteering. However, our group wasn’t discouraged at all and managed to work hard and cheerfully for the Moulsecoomb Forest Garden and Wildlife Project.This project is a collection of allotments which was converted in 1994 into an environmental project for the benefit of the local community.The work consisted of building a path and at the end of the day we were very pleased to see the big difference our efforts made.
(In the picture: working at the Moulsecoombe Forest Garden)
(In the picture: our brand new path!!)
We headed back to the accommodation in the late afternoon, had a warm shower, a hot meal and then ready to go out into town to enjoy the Brighton White Night, with lots of music events and clubs open until late at night. A large part of the group ended up in an 80’s and 90’s revival disco, which had everybody dancing until 3 am.
On Sunday we had the great opportunity to meet a group of 11 volunteers from the UK and Barhain in the Middle East who are currently participating in an exchange programme through VSO called GLOBAL EXCHANGE and whom we invited to spend a morning with us. It was great to hear about their experience and Concordia volunteers offered in exchange a drama performance of the highest quality which had as the theme “Volunteering with Concordia!”. It was absolutely great and hilarious! I don’t remember laughing that much in ages… :)
(In the picture above : group from Barhain giving a presentation)
(in the picture:...one of our great performances!)
So, 3 days went really fast and we had fantastic time together. I would like to thank all the volunteers and staff who attended and helped with the running of the event, with a special thanks to Helen B and Helen P for arranging the volunteer work and the driving.
(Francesco Bonini, International Volunteer Programme Co-ordinator)
Moscow Backwoods is a two-week, environmental project based in Bitsevsky Forest, a Natural Historical park located at the South-western edge of Moscow. This once in a lifetime experience provided an opportunity to better understand conservation and Russian culture. The ability to live with and be shown around Moscow by Muscovites helped the group to gain an insight that we would not have gained had we visited as tourists. Despite it only being a short-term project, I believe that Moscow Backwoods was an excellent life experience.
I have to admit to having some apprehensions before going to Moscow, which were primarily caused by what I had seen on television. So after arriving at the Park, late Thursday evening, after having got lost on the Metro during rush hour (thankfully a female attendant acted out where I should go in front of a crowd of people) I was starting to wonder what I had gotten myself into. However, all my worries disappeared after the warm welcome I received from the people of the Park and by the rest of the group.
During the project we stayed in the gym of a local school that was one stop by metro away from the park. The accommodation was more than adequate as we slept on gym mats and had the use of a shower and warm running water. The volunteers of the camp prepared the food with two people taking it in turn each day as part of the cooking team. This was a great idea as it gave us the chance to experience the national dishes of each other’s countries.
We arrived at the park at 9 a.m. each day to start our conservation work. On the first day we played various games to help get to each other better. The work took place at various locations around the 18 square kilometres of territory that the forest covers. Our main task was to deal with clearing the forest of both litter and areas that had been damaged by fires which are prohibited within the park. Other work was centred around the main administration buildings of the park. This included maintenance on a special nature trail for blind people and helping to design and decorate an open-air classroom. My personal favourite was helping in the planning and execution of the Bicycle rate that is organised every year in the forest for members of the local community. During the two weeks we also had the opportunity to work in another park within Moscow and to visit many others. This gave us all a great overview of the different environmental work that is being carried out in Moscow in order to preserve the city’s natural habitats.
One of the best parts of the project was the large number of excursions that had been organised. There was very little that was not covered, with many tours of the city and visits including the ballet, Moscow Zoo and a local monastery. This was fantastic as it allowed us to see the different elements of Moscow life and experience a bit of what the city has to offer.
(In the picture: Graham with the rest of the group during a night out in Moscow)
When I decided to go to Moscow, probably the last thing that I expected to be doing was to be giving a television interview to Channel 1 Russia, but it happened. The previous day we had been told that a camera crew from a local channel would be waking us up the following morning, as they wanted to film the project and the daily life of us volunteers. This was a big surprise and a very weird experience trying to act normally and not look at the cameras. A few days later we had to do the same thing all over again as the main television channel in Russia came to film us for the day. This trend continued over the two weeks and three television and two newspaper interviews later, I can safely say that we became well accustomed to life in the media.
Despite visiting some of the best sites in Moscow and being on national television, it was often the smaller activities and the free time spent at the school or the park that provided the highlights of the camp. One such highlight was ‘Moscow Families’, where the group split up to spend the evening with a family from Moscow. This was great as it allowed us to meet other people from the Moscow area and get a taste of home life in the Russian capital.
(In the picture: Graham and the group of volunteers)
What truly made the time special was the effort that the Russian host volunteers and theemployees of the park put into welcoming the foreign volunteers. I believe that this was the key factor to the success of the camp as it allowed the group to become great friends in such a short period of time. Their enthusiasm for the project and their willingness to help out with translation and problems faced by the foreigners of the group was incredible. This invaluable contribution to the experience of the international volunteers cannot be overstated.
The project was a very rewarding and authentic experience that went way beyond the work at the park. It allowed the group to make a difference and help the local community. I would recommend the project to anyone.
"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
