Only now were we able to make out individual, complaining faces. More and more people began to surround us. Because the pot with food could have tipped over under the pressure of the crowd, we grabbed it and ran into the first room we saw. More shouting welcomed us. It came from a mother with a child. The smell of the warm food made the girl stagger and collapse onto the cot. We grab a bowl and pour in the soup. The girl eats. Her paleness subsides, and in a while her cheeks become slightly rosy.
A child, a couple of years old. I cannot see her parents. Her brother, not much older, is standing nearby. They complain that they are hungry. I turn to the girl. [8] People who have not eaten anything for two days get a thin slice of bread because we need to divide everything among everybody.
This is the reason for the despair, complaints, and helplessness, which we can do nothing about.
Watered and fed, the deportees walk in groups to the showers. Before showering they deposit their money, which they get back along with their other valuables in the “clean” section after showering and disinfection. Those leaving the showers are given coffee and bread again. They are then sent to their families. Those who have no children are directed to refugee centres, while the sick and elderly are sent to hospitals and shelters, depending on the doctor’s opinion.
When I had my first night shift so many refugees arrived that not only the rooms, but also the corridors were packed. A new transport arrived at 7 p.m.
[9] [. . .]
Bathhouse [. . .]
To eye with [. . .]
women [. . .]
round, crying [. . .]
understands us but [. . .]
we didn’t know [. . .]
A large gym with a high ceiling. Dim, yellow light pierces through the grey, billowy air. It is so stuffy in here that you cannot breathe. Women and children are brought here because supposedly the best conditions are here.
After our round people stretch their arms out towards us and stop us. Everybody begs for something or asks about something. The individual
