A visit to the Iranian jungle

Some of us met some Kurdish guys in the park the other day with very good English. They lived in Liverpool for a few years before being deported back to Iraq. Now they are back in Calais and again trying to reach England. They are young, around 18 and dress like typical London teenagers. One of them calls himself J. J was here during the No Borders camp and he and his friends remember it well. They say they enjoyed it, lots going on and the police could not get onsite. The camp was held in the park we were sitting in, a regular hang-out for Kurdish people. I asked J if he could translate our ‘Who We Are’ statement into Kurdish and he agreed, so today M and I went back to find him.We found the Iranian part of the Jungle first in the same park, and had just sat down with the men there to ask about Persian translations and how to find the Kurdish people when three CRS suddenly appeared, seemingly from nowhere. Neither the migrants nor us had a chance to go anywhere. They checked M’s ID and asked if I could speak French. I replied no, only English. They asked for my ID. I said I don’t have it. One of them saw my bag and told me to open it.
I asked “for what are you searching?”
He said “Just open it.”
I said “Why?”
He replied “Because I am a policeman.”
I said “That’s not a reason”
But he said “Yes it is.”
I opened my bag. I don’t know French law and I didn’t have my passport. I wanted to do the minimum amount possible to get them to leave me alone.
He saw my notebook and went to read it, but I grabbed it from him and said, “that’s my notebook! What are you looking for?”
He saw my wallet and asked for it. I feigned shock and said “you want my money?!”
He said something about ID so I opened my wallet, took out my bank card and gave it to him. He looked at it and handed it back. That seemed to satisfy him.

They then moved onto their intended victims: the four Iranian men we had been sitting with. As the police were talking to them I began quietly writing a text message to send out to the emergency number, but I was seen by ‘hands-on-hips CRS’ and told to stop. We basically had to just sit there and watch while the cops took the men, despite protests from them that they had already been picked up early that morning. The CRS simply replied that this was ‘not possible’. Before the cops arrived the men had been telling us of how there had been 11 arrests at 6am that morning when the police came and woke everyone up and took them all. Twice in one day! They wouldn’t even let one man put his bag away in his tent.

P turned up as they were leaving and managed to take some pictures. My hands were shaking like crazy as I sent texts out saying what was going on.

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