Past, present and upcoming..

A Place Where Instability is the Norm.

Upcoming

Location and date will be announced end of spring 2025

In the shadow of what was once Western Europe’s largest informal refugee settlement, the Calais “Jungle,” I find myself reflecting on the stories that unfolded there in 2015-2016 and on the ongoing challenges that persist today. 

The Jungle was a disorganized sprawl of makeshift shelters, a place defined by both despair and resilience. 

Volunteering there, I always struggled to find my place, small acts felt inadequate but necessary in the face of an overwhelming crisis.

When the camp was dismantled in late 2016, its inhabitants were scattered to temporary centers across France. Yet the area never ceased to draw those in search of a better life. where in 2015-2016 the most common way to cross the English Channel was by hiding in the trailers of trucks, today, the focus has shifted to perilous boat crossings across the English Channel. In 2022 alone, over 45,000 people made this crossing, driven by desperation and hope.

October 23, 2024: 

Since 2015-2016, I have returned to the Calais area regularly, like in October 2024. 

In the heart of Calais, a small refugee camp stands as a fragile testament to the ongoing situation in this area along the north west coast of France.

It is home to about 100 people daily, including women and children, with the youngest among them just over one year old. This small camp of tents is where each story is woven into the fabric of a shared struggle. 

On early Wednesday morning October 23, 2024 tragedy struck, An overcrowded boat capsized in the dangerous waters of the Channel, claiming at least three lives, while 45 others were rescued. Rumors of more missing lingered, and my thoughts turned to the people I had met just a day earlier. Were they safe, or had their lives been claimed by the cold, unforgiving waves?

Only days before, I had heard about another victim, a young child lost to those dark waters. 

The lives claimed by the Channel are a grim testament to the desperation that drives people to risk everything.

Later that day on Wednesday afternoon, the camp where I had been volunteering was cleared by police.  A two or tree daily routine systematically removing tents and belongings leaving the people behind in the rainy cold weather, thankfully, they spared the tents where some families with children found shelter, but the act itself felt like a violent unnecessary uprooting of hope. 

After a night of rain the makeshift camps are a different world, Puddles have formed, reflecting the gray morning sky.

Tents have leaked, belongings soaked through and need to dry. Laughter and conversation ripple through the air, offering a brief escape from the harshness surrounding them. Voluntary organisations providing food and medical help, bringing in a daily ray of sunlight.

At the same time the nightly rain highlights the fragility of their situation, the constant battle against the elements, both natural and societal. 

These experiences drive my commitment in using art as a form of activism, in raising awareness in a world where structural inequalities are painfully evident. 

A Decade of Reflection and my privilege

For nearly ten years, I have returned to this area, witnessing the evolving crisis and grappling with my role in it. My privilege my ability to cross borders with ease, to return to a warm bed stands in stark contrast to the precarious lives of those I meet. In this imbalance of power and opportunity I question myself what is my role in this space, with the privilege I carry.?

Art has become my response a way to document and amplify their stories. I collect fragments of survival: leaky tents, discarded life blankets, and remnants of lives uprooted. These materials, imbued with human struggle, find their way into my work, trying to ensure these stories are not forgotten. 

Calais is more than its camps; Yet, for those in the camps, it is a battleground against the elements, against structural inequality where they are the toys, the living commodity of human traffickers against the indifference of a world that too often looks away.

I am reminded again that solidarity must be rooted in listening and understanding.

Through upcoming works, I hope to provoke thought, inspire change, and honor the resilience of those living where instability is the norm.