60 marieclaire.com.auof migrants from the Middle East in
April 2016, Greece’s northern border was
closed and nearly 60,000 asylum seekers
were stuck in camps across the country.
“You come to Europe to survive, you
want to save your life. Then you come to
the camp and the war in Syria is better
than this place,” says City Plaza resident
Moustafa Haj Rashid of his experiences
in the disease-ridden camps where he
found himself living in Greece. “If you
had an animal, you don’t leave your ani-
mals there. How is [it] for people?”
Appalled by the deplorable condi-
tions in such camps, refugee advocates
saw an opportunity to create an alterna-
tive. Hunting through the metropolis,
they chose City Plaza from 15 buildings
deemed abandoned. “Since there is this
housing crisis and so much empty space
in the city, it is only right to give it to
people that need it,” says Lina Theo-
dorou, a lawyer and member of the
Solidarity Initiative for Economic and
Political Refugees, the activist group
that transformed City Plaza from an
abandoned building to a safe haven.
The hotel was an ideal choice thanks
to its location near Vic-
toria Square, a refugee
hotspot in the city, and
the fact that the
interior had remained
largely untouched
since its closure. On
April 22, 2016, the Sol-
idarity Initiative broke
the front door’s padlock and seized the
building. Inside they found mattresses,
sheets, tables, chairs, kitchen supplies- everything a hotel needs to function.
At first, volunteers offered rooms to
refugee families, but soon word spread
and people began arriving at the recep-
tion desk asking to stay. Within a few
weeks, the hotel’s 92 rooms were full.
Today, City Plaza exists in a
near-constant state of organised chaos.
Kids tear through the hallways, while
dance music thumps loudly from the
kitchen during a volunteer shift. Laun-
dry, washed in hotel room sinks, is hung
from the building’s balconies to dry in
the breeze. “Day-to-day life is so hectic,
but busy and colourful,” says Ellen
Downes, a British volunteer who arrived
at the hotel in October. “There are big
problems and then there are beautiful
moments, and everyone is living and
working and doing everything together.”
Three simple rules keep this current
of frenetic energy in check. One, there is
no alcohol allowed. Two, engaging in
violence means you’re out. And perhaps
most important to establishing a sense
of community, every resident contrib-
utes to the daily functioning of the space
as part of the kitchen, cleaning, medical
or security teams. While this might seem
idyllic, “it requires a lot of organisation,”
says Downes. “There are weekly meet-
ings to resolve problems or compromise.”
Technically an illegal squat, City
Plaza is at constant risk of
closure. So far, the govern-
ment seems unlikely to
alienate its far-left support
by intervening in a situa-
tion that houses hundreds
of refugees, but Ronald
Schonbauer, a UN official
believes that 2017 will be a
key year for Greece in its transition from
a country that was predominantly a
transit stop for refugees. “More and
more, Greece is becoming an asylum
that has to work on the integration
of refugees,” says Schonbauer.
The UN has already begun moving
families into apartments in the hope
of creating a more viable long-term
solution that, with government support,
promotes integration and provides extra
income to struggling Greek landlords.
City Plaza’s future may depend on
how well it can sustain the kind of
integration the authorities will look for
in the coming year. For now, though, its
residents are just happy to have a home.
As Frlan Kathuda Myold, a 47-year-old
refugee from Syria puts it: “Here I feel
like I’m not a refugee, I feel like I felt in
my country before the war ... safe.”“Here I feel
like I’m not a
refugee, I feel
like I felt before
the war ... safe”After a harrowing
journey, Jamilah and
Haji found “paradise”
at City Plaza.MAHSA RAHAN, 25, IS FROM AFGHANISTAN. SHE LIVES IN ROOM 209 WITH HER HUSBAND AND SON
Mahsa and Parwiz want
to provide a better life
for son Omar.WORLD REPORT
When Mahsa and her
husband Parwiz arrived at
Malakasa refugee camp,
roughly 40km north of Athens,
they were faced with floods
and insects. Also, Mahsa was
three months pregnant.
“The only night I had a
good sleep was our first night.
After, I could never sleep
well,” says Mahsa, cradling
her now seven-month-old
baby Omar in her lap.
Mahsa and Parwiz, who
fled conflict in Afghanistan,
shared a tent with nine other
refugees at Malakasa, so for
the new parents City Plaza’s
greatest asset is privacy. They
have decorated their room
with family photos and
donated toys for Omar, born
in a hospital a few blocks
from City Plaza. The central
location allows them to take
their young son to the park,
a luxury they would never
have had in a camp.
“I want to study. We
both do,” Mahsa says of
her and her husband. “But
I want Omar to get a good
education. We want to
provide him a safe future,
so he can live in peace.”