Remains of Moria
Walking through the remains of Europe’s biggest refugee camp, home for around 13.000 people in its last days, felt unreal. Though this feeling of estrangement was not caused by the overwhelming presence of destruction but rather the absence of sound. The chattering of voices, the clattering of dishes. All gone. Now you could only hear the birds and the rustling of cats strolling through the remains of the camp.Between the rubbles we found different objects, still witnesses of a former life. Toys, clothes or dishes. It felt as if those objects wanted to say: yes once there were people living here too. Some objects are witnesses of violence. Diazepam and Ibuprofen, means to bear what is unbearable. A lock used to protect someone’s home and family from mugging. Others are witnesses of resilience. A French copy of the New Testament. Maybe belonging to the Congolese community, who so vividly hold their services between the olive trees? The charred kitchen grater used for cooking. For many cooking was a way of keeping the memories of the place they left behind alive. The owners of those objects are now inside the new camp. Not much is coming out of there, since access for press is prohibited.