Today we are leaving. We head to the camp to the volunteer area but first, we go check on our Sudan friends. No one is around but then we see one man we don’t recognise. A few minutes later, one of our friends appears. He tells us all of them had tried to get through the tunnel last night. Another of our friends comes out from his shelter and looks as if he’s been crying. He tells us he tried to jump on a train and fell. One of his hands is badly swollen, the other is cut. We ask him to go see one of the medical teams in camp but he says that it will be fine. Its obvious he is in pain. We are relieved he is ok but concerned because we know he’ll try again. No one should have to go to such lengths to secure a future for themselves. Its wrong.
By now we’re running late so we quickly say goodbye to as many people as possible before we climb back in the van and head out of camp for our ferry. We head back to our ‘safe’ country with our ‘superior’ passports that allow us to travel freely throughout the world. To our double glazed, central heated houses with comfortable beds to be with our family. To a life that has never known a fraction of the hell-on-earth that the people in the Jungle have experienced. Yet they exist in a camp, we live in our homes.