The jungle camp in Calais was not the likely destination for my guitar.
It was found for me by my sister in-law when I was looking to play again. My family and friends brought me a new one earlier this year. I had two and I only needed one.
I recently accompanied a group of Mums, dads, music leaders and others with a whole heap of socks, jackets, carefully made up dignity packs for women, gloves, hats and... and did I say socks?
None of these people were aid workers- they were citizens who all felt that they can no longer sit and watch a disaster unfold in front of us. One more death on our doorstep is one too many.
I watched as they spoke to people saying 'what can we do to help you' and 'we will come back to help you'. Working in aid, I know the heaps of training people take before heading out... But this isn't 'out there' it's 'in here'.
I too felt that I can no longer watch this unfold in my armchair.
As I walked through the camp I met a man named Jonathan and he was part of a church. We spoke to him. He showed us their centre for women. The small area they had made from make shift materials and even offered us some food.
When back at the car I asked our host, Dominique whether she would be kind enough to take my guitar and somehow get it to Jonathan and the group.
She took it from me.
Recently she sent me a few photos of Jonathan and the guitar.
Enjoy bro.
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