Stuff to plan for if you're coming to Calais, and a personal account from one person for Monday and Tuesday this week to give you an idea of what sort of work we're doing
Sunrise over the Hazara 'jungle' keeping an eye out for CRS
What to bring?
So far activists have mostly been camping, so bring whatever you will need for that. There is a gas cooker but another one is always useful, as are extra pans, cups, etc.
Bring sun lotion, rain coat, blankets, etc. Bring any luxury food items you wouldn’t want to live without. Vegan food is especially difficult to get here and everything is very expensive (apart from chocolate, which you can get giant bars of very cheaply in Aldi).
If you have a vehicle or extra space, the Jungles can always use more of the following…
Clothing, English reading books, sim cards, extra tents, sleeping bags, blankets, rope, tarp, first aid stuff, scabies ointment (there is currently an epidemic), vitamin supplements, anything else you think might be useful.
It would also be good for us to have some climbing equipment, like harnesses and some cheap video cameras. A bicycle isuseful, but you can also hire one for 25€ for a week.
Getting here
It would be helpful to call us first to let us know when you are coming on (from UK) 00 33 6 34 81 07 10 from France 06 34 81 07 10
The cheapest ferry to get is Seafrance £12 each way for passengers and no extra for a bike. It’s the same price whether you book in advance or not and it’s no cheaper to buy a return. Check the website for vehicle prices: www.seafrance.com. There is a place you can buy discount tickets for vehicles in Dover on the way to the ferry port on the left. Journey times are here:
https://www.seafrance.com/cs/booking/sailingSchedule?locale=1233760843895. You need to buy your ticket more than 45 mins in advance.
We’ll tell you where we are camping when you call or email.
In Calais
We have some maps, including one with all of the jungles and other important addresses marked on which you can copy. More maps are available from the tourist info office.
There is some good information about Calais here: http://wiki.couchsurfing.com/en/Calais but some of it is out of date – especially the free internet addresses. The only one of these that works is Maison de l’Initiative et de l’emploi local at 14, rue Edouard Manet Bât. We have mostly been using Cyber-Phone at 49, Rue du Seigneur de Gourdon. It is expensive at 3€ an hour, but has the bonus of being very migrant friendly and we have met many people there. The owner also threw the police out recently when they were harrassing his migrant customers. The other option is the library: Médiathèque municipale, 16, rue du Pont Lottin. It is supposed to be for residents only, but they will probably let you use it if it’s quiet and it costs 1€ an hour.
Food is generally bought collectively with people chipping in what they can. We have been having morning and evening meetings and eating together once a day, but now there are much fewer people and things are starting to change.
We have a big green book with lots of information in it – it is probably a good idea to read through the green book as soon as possible after arriving in Calais so you know what has been happening recently.
The Palestinian Jungle – 10th August 09
We have a piece of writing about who we are that has already been translated into Pasto and Dari. We still need some other languages, especially Arabic, Persian and Kurdish. B and I headed down to the “Palestinian Jungle” to say hi and hopefully make some contacts there.
As with all the Jungles I have visited, the people sitting around makeshift structures in the port were friendly and pleased to see us. We brought them candles and some oranges, which they shared with us.
We chatted to a weathered-looking man from Sudan who told us he has been living in Calais for the past eight years, in the structure nearest to where we were sitting. B and I were both shocked. Eight years is by far the longest any of us has heard of someone living in the Jungle. I asked if he was trying to get to England but he shook his head slowly, pointed to his hair, his knees, his tattered clothes. “I am fifty-seven, nearly fifty-eight. I stay here in Calais.”
We spoke with some of the other men, mostly from Sudan, one from Eritrea. Most spoke reasonably good English. There were no Palestinians in sight and I have since discovered it has been mis-named, although some people report having met at least one Palestinian there previously. This is the most international of the Jungles with a mixture of different nationalities living together.
After three games of dominoes in which the winner was unclear (I never did understand the rules of that game), the CRS police suddenly showed up. Some of the men got up. Some shouted, some ran away and were chased by police with truncheons. One man hid behind the sofa we were sitting on. The remaining men stayed where they were sitting and laughed at the others being chased by the cops. This was obviously such a familiar scene that it had become a source of some amusement. To us it came as something of a shock. B went over to the police to confront them. I was on my way to back him up when I saw them check his ID Shit – I still don’t have my passport! I backed off and went back to the guys still sitting around the dominoes table. Some of the others were standing near to the waters edge, pretending they were about to jump whenever the cops came near. It seemed to work really well. The police obviously weren’t too keen in jumping in after them. The men by the dominoes table thought it was a hoot! Eventually I managed to figure out that I had our emergency phone number in my pocket and after a couple of botched attempts I succeeded in remembering the French code.
Within a few minutes around ten activists were on the scene on bikes, some with cameras – filming the cops filming us. The CRS were clearly not very pleased to see us. They were checking IDs and photographing people, sometimes a few cm’s away from people’s faces, an intimidation tactic familiar to me from experiences in the UK.
To my shame I stayed well back, fearful of arrest without any ID. The migrants have to put up with this everyday – sometimes more than once a day. Yes, I am a coward. But I am getting better. At least I am here in Calais.
The police left without arresting anyone, but unfortunately returned later when most of us had gone and took three people.
Iranian Jungle – 11th August 09
Some of us met some Kurdish guys in the park the other day with very good English. They lived in Liverpool for a few years before being deported back to Iraq. Now they are back in Calais and again trying to reach England. They are young, around 18 and dress like typical London teenagers. One of them calls himself J. J was here during the No Borders camp and he and his friends remember it well. They say they enjoyed it, lots going on and the police could not get onsite. The camp was held in the park we were sitting in, a regular hang-out for Kurdish people. I asked J if he could translate our ‘Who We Are’ statement into Kurdish and he agreed, so today M and I went back to find him.
We found the Iranian part of the Jungle first in the same park, and had just sat down with the men there to ask about Persian translations and how to find the Kurdish people when three CRS suddenly appeared, seemingly from nowhere. Neither the migrants nor us had a chance to go anywhere. They checked M’s ID and asked if I could speak French. I replied no, only English. They asked for my ID. I said I don’t have it. One of them saw my bag and told me to open it.
I asked “for what are you searching?”
He said “Just open it.”
I said “Why?”
He replied “Because I am a policeman.”
I said “That’s not a reason”
But he said “Yes it is.”
I opened my bag. I don’t know French law and I didn’t have my passport. I wanted to do the minimum amount possible to get them to leave me alone.
He saw my notebook and went to read it, but I grabbed it from him and said, “that’s my notebook! What are you looking for?”
He saw my wallet and asked for it. I feigned shock and said “you want my money?!”
He said something about ID so I opened my wallet, took out my bank card and gave it to him. He looked at it and handed it back. That seemed to satisfy him.
They then moved onto their intended victims: the four Iranian men we had been sitting with. As the police were talking to them I began quietly writing a text message to send out to the emergency number, but I was seen by ‘hands-on-hips CRS’ and told to stop. We basically had to just sit there and watch while the cops took the men, despite protests from them that they had already been picked up early that morning. The CRS simply replied that this was ‘not possible’. Before the cops arrived the men had been telling us of how there had been 11 arrests at 6am that morning when the police came and woke everyone up and took them all. Twice in one day! They wouldn’t even let one man put his bag away in his tent.
P turned up as they were leaving and managed to take some pictures. My hands were shaking like crazy as I sent texts out saying what was going on.
–
my blog: http://alongwayfromeden.blogspot.com/
So far activists have mostly been camping, so bring whatever you will need for that. There is a gas cooker but another one is always useful, as are extra pans, cups, etc.
Bring sun lotion, rain coat, blankets, etc. Bring any luxury food items you wouldn’t want to live without. Vegan food is especially difficult to get here and everything is very expensive (apart from chocolate, which you can get giant bars of very cheaply in Aldi).
If you have a vehicle or extra space, the Jungles can always use more of the following…
Clothing, English reading books, sim cards, extra tents, sleeping bags, blankets, rope, tarp, first aid stuff, scabies ointment (there is currently an epidemic), vitamin supplements, anything else you think might be useful.
It would also be good for us to have some climbing equipment, like harnesses and some cheap video cameras. A bicycle isuseful, but you can also hire one for 25€ for a week.
Getting here
It would be helpful to call us first to let us know when you are coming on (from UK) 00 33 6 34 81 07 10 from France 06 34 81 07 10
The cheapest ferry to get is Seafrance £12 each way for passengers and no extra for a bike. It’s the same price whether you book in advance or not and it’s no cheaper to buy a return. Check the website for vehicle prices: www.seafrance.com. There is a place you can buy discount tickets for vehicles in Dover on the way to the ferry port on the left. Journey times are here:
https://www.seafrance.com/cs/booking/sailingSchedule?locale=1233760843895. You need to buy your ticket more than 45 mins in advance. We’ll tell you where we are camping when you call or email.
In Calais
We have some maps, including one with all of the jungles and other important addresses marked on which you can copy. More maps are available from the tourist info office.
There is some good information about Calais here:
http://wiki.couchsurfing.com/en/Calais but some of it is out of date – especially the free internet addresses. The only one of these that works is Maison de l’Initiative et de l’emploi local at 14, rue Edouard Manet Bât. We have mostly been using Cyber-Phone at 49, Rue du Seigneur de Gourdon. It is expensive at 3€ an hour, but has the bonus of being very migrant friendly and we have met many people there. The owner also threw the police out recently when they were harrassing his migrant customers. The other option is the library: Médiathèque municipale, 16, rue du Pont Lottin. It is supposed to be for residents only, but they will probably let you use it if it’s quiet and it costs 1€ an hour. Food is generally bought collectively with people chipping in what they can. We have been having morning and evening meetings and eating together once a day, but now there are much fewer people and things are starting to change.
We have a big green book with lots of information in it – it is probably a good idea to read through the green book as soon as possible after arriving in Calais so you know what has been happening recently.
The Palestinian Jungle – 10th August 09
We have a piece of writing about who we are that has already been translated into Pasto and Dari. We still need some other languages, especially Arabic, Persian and Kurdish. B and I headed down to the “Palestinian Jungle” to say hi and hopefully make some contacts there.
As with all the Jungles I have visited, the people sitting around makeshift structures in the port were friendly and pleased to see us. We brought them candles and some oranges, which they shared with us.
We chatted to a weathered-looking man from Sudan who told us he has been living in Calais for the past eight years, in the structure nearest to where we were sitting. B and I were both shocked. Eight years is by far the longest any of us has heard of someone living in the Jungle. I asked if he was trying to get to England but he shook his head slowly, pointed to his hair, his knees, his tattered clothes. “I am fifty-seven, nearly fifty-eight. I stay here in Calais.”
We spoke with some of the other men, mostly from Sudan, one from Eritrea. Most spoke reasonably good English. There were no Palestinians in sight and I have since discovered it has been mis-named, although some people report having met at least one Palestinian there previously. This is the most international of the Jungles with a mixture of different nationalities living together.
After three games of dominoes in which the winner was unclear (I never did understand the rules of that game), the CRS police suddenly showed up. Some of the men got up. Some shouted, some ran away and were chased by police with truncheons. One man hid behind the sofa we were sitting on. The remaining men stayed where they were sitting and laughed at the others being chased by the cops. This was obviously such a familiar scene that it had become a source of some amusement. To us it came as something of a shock. B went over to the police to confront them. I was on my way to back him up when I saw them check his ID Shit – I still don’t have my passport! I backed off and went back to the guys still sitting around the dominoes table. Some of the others were standing near to the waters edge, pretending they were about to jump whenever the cops came near. It seemed to work really well. The police obviously weren’t too keen in jumping in after them. The men by the dominoes table thought it was a hoot! Eventually I managed to figure out that I had our emergency phone number in my pocket and after a couple of botched attempts I succeeded in remembering the French code.
Within a few minutes around ten activists were on the scene on bikes, some with cameras – filming the cops filming us. The CRS were clearly not very pleased to see us. They were checking IDs and photographing people, sometimes a few cm’s away from people’s faces, an intimidation tactic familiar to me from experiences in the UK.
To my shame I stayed well back, fearful of arrest without any ID. The migrants have to put up with this everyday – sometimes more than once a day. Yes, I am a coward. But I am getting better. At least I am here in Calais.
The police left without arresting anyone, but unfortunately returned later when most of us had gone and took three people.
Iranian Jungle – 11th August 09
Some of us met some Kurdish guys in the park the other day with very good English. They lived in Liverpool for a few years before being deported back to Iraq. Now they are back in Calais and again trying to reach England. They are young, around 18 and dress like typical London teenagers. One of them calls himself J. J was here during the No Borders camp and he and his friends remember it well. They say they enjoyed it, lots going on and the police could not get onsite. The camp was held in the park we were sitting in, a regular hang-out for Kurdish people. I asked J if he could translate our ‘Who We Are’ statement into Kurdish and he agreed, so today M and I went back to find him.
We found the Iranian part of the Jungle first in the same park, and had just sat down with the men there to ask about Persian translations and how to find the Kurdish people when three CRS suddenly appeared, seemingly from nowhere. Neither the migrants nor us had a chance to go anywhere. They checked M’s ID and asked if I could speak French. I replied no, only English. They asked for my ID. I said I don’t have it. One of them saw my bag and told me to open it.
I asked “for what are you searching?”
He said “Just open it.”
I said “Why?”
He replied “Because I am a policeman.”
I said “That’s not a reason”
But he said “Yes it is.”
I opened my bag. I don’t know French law and I didn’t have my passport. I wanted to do the minimum amount possible to get them to leave me alone.
He saw my notebook and went to read it, but I grabbed it from him and said, “that’s my notebook! What are you looking for?”
He saw my wallet and asked for it. I feigned shock and said “you want my money?!”
He said something about ID so I opened my wallet, took out my bank card and gave it to him. He looked at it and handed it back. That seemed to satisfy him.
They then moved onto their intended victims: the four Iranian men we had been sitting with. As the police were talking to them I began quietly writing a text message to send out to the emergency number, but I was seen by ‘hands-on-hips CRS’ and told to stop. We basically had to just sit there and watch while the cops took the men, despite protests from them that they had already been picked up early that morning. The CRS simply replied that this was ‘not possible’. Before the cops arrived the men had been telling us of how there had been 11 arrests at 6am that morning when the police came and woke everyone up and took them all. Twice in one day! They wouldn’t even let one man put his bag away in his tent.
P turned up as they were leaving and managed to take some pictures. My hands were shaking like crazy as I sent texts out saying what was going on.
–
my blog:
http://alongwayfromeden.blogspot.com/
e-mail:
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