Anna Meanders

Tag: Travel for meaning

  • Everybody Has a Story

    Everybody Has a Story

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    by

    Anna
    in , ,

    An old Arab gentleman ushers a curious volunteer into his tent and gestures with his wiry thin arms to have a seat. Sit, he says with his eyes. The shrapnel wounds down his legs tell more than his words. Min-ga-la-ba she smiles, uh, hello, she corrects herself. But it’s her clear, shining eyes that express…

  • Life After Idomeni – A reflection

    Life After Idomeni – A reflection

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    by

    Anna
    in , ,

    The meadows here are overgrown with wild strawberries, sweet peas and brambles. The hillsides roll on for what feels like ever and I sit here, sipping a fresh mint tea with the sun on my cheeks. Where Athens was orange blossoms and pine needles, and Idomeni the stench of burning plastic and mud puddles, this…

  • Let’s Play a Game

    Let’s Play a Game

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    by

    Anna
    in , ,

    Let’s play a game, use your imagination and follow along. You’re cosy in that recliner you love, you know the one. You picked it out together right after you brought your first home. It was after the wedding, of course. But before you started painting the nursery pink and stocking up on tiny socks. It’s…

  • Where Will They Go?

    Where Will They Go?

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    by

    Anna
    in , ,

    A little girl scrutinises under a rock with her torch, carefully turning each one over looking for treasures underneath. She reminds me of myself as a child, endlessly fascinated with searching for creatures in the rock pools. Completely oblivious to the fist-fight breaking out nearby, she gently replaces each turned stone as men in orange…

  • The day we marched to North Macedonia

    The day we marched to North Macedonia

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    by

    Anna
    in , ,

    I like the way his whole face smiles, beginning in his shining eyes and bursting out across his tiny cheeks as he dangles his mothers handbag from a nearby stick.

  • I Didn’t Cry in Thessoloniki

    I Didn’t Cry in Thessoloniki

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    by

    Anna
    in , ,

    I’ve run out of tears for the everyday. For the child tugging on my trousers in need of more things than money can buy, for the desperation in that parents eyes, for the putrid toxicity of the smoke billowing, created by people so desperate for warmth that they are burning their plastic raincoats for firewood.…

  • Making Friends at PolyKastro

    Making Friends at PolyKastro

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    by

    Anna
    in , ,

    I have spent the past few days wondering how, when I finally got the chance, I might tell the story of the past five days. Agonising over the details and the timelines. What happened when? Did the hospital trip happen before or after the border closures. Honestly, it has been a bit of a rough…

  • Saint Valentine and the Eko Gasoline Wasteland

    Saint Valentine and the Eko Gasoline Wasteland

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    by

    Anna
    in , ,

    At the other end of the world from this escalating assault on Syria, my hometown was once again rocked by a large earthquake. In the quiet moments, in the middle of the night when everything is still, I can’t help but wonder how much more this world can take.

  • Let us be angry, this is a crisis after all

    Let us be angry, this is a crisis after all

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    by

    Anna
    in , ,

    The wind howled through camp the last two nights, hurling pine needles and poorly pinned laundry across the grounds. Spring is coming, but before the orange trees burst into flower I will be gone from this island. Providing the weather stabilises, we will be leaving on a ferry bound for Kavala tomorrow morning. Will I…

  • The Days with no Boats

    The Days with no Boats

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    by

    Anna
    in , ,

    I’m sitting in the reception, a small brightly coloured room at the entrance of Pikpa. To my right is a pile of drums taking a break from their usual residence in evening drumming circles, landscaping sketches are taped to the walls behind me telling stories of beautiful things to come. This room is the hub…