{"id":557,"date":"2017-07-11T06:01:22","date_gmt":"2017-07-11T10:01:22","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/commons.princeton.edu\/globalreporting2017\/?p=557"},"modified":"2022-03-25T14:20:22","modified_gmt":"2022-03-25T18:20:22","slug":"kantina-culture-a-friendly-place-in-an-unfriendly-world","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/commons.princeton.edu\/globalreporting2017\/kantina-culture-a-friendly-place-in-an-unfriendly-world\/","title":{"rendered":"‘Kantina’ culture: A friendly place in an unfriendly world"},"content":{"rendered":"

By Jack Lohmann <\/em><\/p>\n

MORIA, Greece<\/strong> — When refugees came to the Greek island of Lesbos, Katerina Kechagia set up shop.<\/p>\n

In October 2015, as thousands of migrants from Turkey landed on the shores of the island, Kechagia pulled her canteen trailer to the center of the action. A sort of caf\u00e9, snack bar and convenience shop all rolled into one and set on wheels, Greek \u201ckantinas\u201d traditionally catered to tourists on beaches. But as tourism dried up in the face of the refugee crisis, Kechagia and others began serving migrants instead.<\/p>\n

Parked barely outside the coiled razor wire marking the boundaries of the Moria refugee camp, Kechagia sold food, coffee and tobacco to refugees and aid workers.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe decide to come here because we knew that we would have work all over the year,\u201d instead of just the summer months, Kechagia said.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

Nearly two years after Kechagia first arrived, business remained robust. \u201cI am satisfied,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n

Alongside Kechagia\u2019s shop, other vendors clustered around the entrance to the camp, where residents have complained about overcrowding and generally degrading conditions.<\/p>\n

Last year, two people died after a fire broke out. In January, three people died during a cold snap. This week, tensions boiled over as residents of the camp rioted and burned a number of structures to the ground.<\/p>\n

Dissatisfied with the food inside Moria, many of the camp\u2019s residents began to buy meals from the entrepreneurs outside the gate. \u201cOur specialty,\u201d Kechagia said, \u201cis salad kebab and chicken with spaghetti.\u201d<\/p>\n

Migrants seated at some of the dozens of plastic tables that surround Kechagia\u2019s shop said they go to her for more than food.<\/p>\n

Obama Nema, an Iraqi man in his\u00a0late 20s, batted away flies as he cooled off under a wide tent.<\/p>\n

\"\"

Kechagia has catered to refugees for nearly two years. Photo by Jack Lohmann<\/p><\/div>\n

\u201cShe\u2019s the best,\u201d Nema said of Kechagia. \u201cAlways smiling, polite.\u201d<\/p>\n

Nema acknowledged that he also frequented Kechagia\u2019s kantina for food and soft drinks. As he spoke, a friend heckled him jokingly. \u201cPresident of United States,\u201d the young man called out.<\/p>\n

In the kitchen, Kechagia stood laughing with Karwan, a refugee from the Kurdistan region of Iraq.<\/p>\n

\u201cThis is my friend,\u201d she said. \u201cHe comes only to help me.\u201d<\/p>\n

Karwan spoke little English, and Kechagia spoke no Kurdish. But Kechagia said that after two months of daily coffees, \u201cI can understand him. And he can understand me.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ringed by concrete walls topped by chain-link fencing and barbed wire, Moria was constructed at the site of an old military base. This time last year, migrants arriving at the camp were required to remain inside what had effectively become a detention facility. But in response to protests and changing political circumstances, authorities now allow migrants to come and go. In recent months, many have taken the bus nearby to Mytilene, a beachside town that became ground zero for the refugee crisis.<\/p>\n

\u201cIn the morning, they wait for the bus,\u201d Kechagia said. \u201cThey come to tell me good morning.\u201d The visits are social. \u201cThey don\u2019t buy something. They only come to say hello.\u201d<\/p>\n

Nema said he has talked to Kechagia about his frustrations with camp life, and \u201ceverything, what maybe I want to do after\u201d leaving.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhatever they have in their minds, they tell me,\u201d Kechagia said. Her new friends have confided in her \u201cfor everything, for their families in their countries, for their problems.\u201d<\/p>\n

Some migrants at Moria have been there more than a year, meaning that daily visits to the kantina have led to lasting friendships.<\/p>\n

\u201cAll the customers here are regular. Most of them I know with their names,\u201d she said. \u201cAfter so many months, we are friends.\u201d<\/p>\n

\"\"

Kechagia hung a photo of Michael, a migrant from Eritrea, on the wall of her kantina. Photo by Jack Lohmann<\/p><\/div>\n

Above the cash register, a small photo was pinned to the wall\u2014a portrait of a man wearing a yellow jersey. He was from Eritrea, Kechagia said. His name was Michael. \u201cAnd I call him, like here in Greece, Mixalaki.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd now, over at the camp, they call him Mixalaki, like me.\u201d<\/p>\n

In late May 2017, Michael left Moria. After many months of waiting, he had received his registration papers. He transferred to a camp in Thessaloniki, a city several hundred miles away in northern Greece. Even so, Michael managed to come back and visit Kechagia. This week, he was staying for three days.<\/p>\n

\u201cFrom Thessaloniki to Athens with a train, and then with a ship,\u201d Kechagia said. \u201cNow he\u2019s sleeping. I think at about one o\u2019clock he will be here. He will come, we drink coffee, we make fun.\u201d<\/p>\n

They had a lot of catching up to do\u2014about \u201chis brother, his mother, what he wants to do.\u201d<\/p>\n

Kechagia said Michael\u2019s goal was to move to Norway to be with his aunt. Then, he wanted to start a family of his own. His dream, as she put it, was straightforward: \u201cI want a house with all my family.\u201d<\/p>\n

But as Michael and thousands of others have bided their time in Greece, those plans\u00a0remained on hold. Over time, they congregated in spots like Kechagia\u2019s kantina.<\/p>\n

\"\"

Kechagia and Azin shared a laugh inside Kechagia’s kantina. Photo by Jack Lohmann<\/p><\/div>\n

On a recent afternoon, Azin, a young girl from Iraq who identified herself only by her first name, joined Kechagia inside the kantina with her older brother, Mostafa.<\/p>\n

\u201cDo you want to drink a cold chocolate?\u201d Kechagia asked Azin, hugging the girl.<\/p>\n

Azin, of course, wanted a cold chocolate. Azin hopped around excitedly as Kechagia poured the drink.<\/p>\n

\u201cI love them,\u201d she said of the migrants who visit her shop. \u201cReally, I love them.\u201d<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

By Jack Lohmann MORIA, Greece — When refugees came to the Greek island of Lesbos, Katerina Kechagia set up shop. In October 2015, as thousands of migrants from Turkey landed on the shores of the island, Kechagia pulled her canteen trailer to the center of the action. A sort of caf\u00e9, snack bar and convenience<\/p>\n

Continue Reading<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":47,"featured_media":565,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-557","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-uncategorized","post-preview"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/commons.princeton.edu\/globalreporting2017\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/557","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/commons.princeton.edu\/globalreporting2017\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/commons.princeton.edu\/globalreporting2017\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/commons.princeton.edu\/globalreporting2017\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/47"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/commons.princeton.edu\/globalreporting2017\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=557"}],"version-history":[{"count":27,"href":"https:\/\/commons.princeton.edu\/globalreporting2017\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/557\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":842,"href":"https:\/\/commons.princeton.edu\/globalreporting2017\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/557\/revisions\/842"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/commons.princeton.edu\/globalreporting2017\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/565"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/commons.princeton.edu\/globalreporting2017\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=557"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/commons.princeton.edu\/globalreporting2017\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=557"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/commons.princeton.edu\/globalreporting2017\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=557"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}