It’s been 9 years since I offered herbal footcare at a refugee camp known as “the jungle” in Calais, France. This shanty town of tarps and scrap metal shacks (demolished in the autumn of 2016) was built on old landfill on the northern french coast. It housed close to 10,000 migrants, folks who had been displaced from their homelands by war and persecution, and who now found their way blocked by closed borders.
Hoping to reach England, many migrants hop lorries and trains to make the channel crossing. A few might be successful, but many end up with rubber bullet contusions, sprains, broken bones, or their skin torn by barbed wire. It was difficult to see so many in such devastating circumstances. But I was glad that I had even this little service to offer. I was grateful that I could hold someone’s foot, soothe some of their pains, and offer a moment of tender care.
 
What those trips clarified for me in the summer of 2016, was that it wasn’t just what I was doing that mattered, but how I was doing it. Beyond the herbal bandaids or foot fixes I could offer, just as important was the connections we were making and the holding of space for someone to be seen and heard. And for them to be held.
Sounds simple. And most of the time it is just that simple, be it at Standing Rock or the Apollo House Occupation, on Skid Row or at any pop-up clinic that we run. Meet people where they are at and help them on their journey.
And sometimes you have to silence a lot of voices to do the work well. Push mute on the folks who say you’re an enabler. Push mute on the folks who say you’re an angel. Push mute on folks who want to make it about anything other than what it is – doing your best in the chaos that is late-state capitalism. I sometimes worry that we have become so lost in the maze of digital feedback that we are losing the ability to do the actual work. Together.As you can see in the photo, I worked outside. This was in large part for logistical reasons (the caravans were small and already crowed and some of the foot tools create extra dust). But to be honest, I much prefer working outdoors.
I love the air and the wind and the sun. I love being able to gauge the energy of the day. I love being available to the passersby who might not have known we existed if we were sequestered away indoors. I love working to the hum of community. Often I hear herbalists complain of feeling isolated and I think – get ye outside with the people!
Some of the crew I served with on those trips went on to start the Mobile Herbal Clinic, a monthly volunteer run clinic serving in Calais & Dunkerque. Over the years this volunteer-run project has supported thousands of refugees and it would be lovely if we could offer them some support as well! Please consider making a donation or volunteering.
We are taking our summer break from the Community & Clinical Care Free School Course, but I still have one little bit of herbwork to suggest in this lovely month of June: smell the roses, feel the dirt beneath your fingers, break bread with friends and sing to the trees. Get ye outside with the plants and the people!
You can view all this month’s happenings in our newsletter here.
Herbally yours,
Lorna
