When I walk through Camp Moria, I smell stench. No wonder: it is like one large rubbish dump.
One can simply not imagine how many people have to dwell in an area of a few acres. Every time again I am shocked by the number of people there, and the circumstances in which they find themselves.
What goes on in the world affects me.
My father fled the Nazis and, only because of that, I was one of the lucky ones to be born in The Netherlands. I want to be there for those refugees. They can count on me.