Chapters (26)
- Half-title Page
- Title Page
- Introduction
- 1. The beginning
- 2. How we got hooked on immigration
- 3. The excuses we told ourselves
- 4. ‘Welcome to Europe’
- 5. ‘We have seen everything’
- 6. Multiculturalism
- 7. They are here
- 8. Prophets without honour
- 9. Early-warning sirens
- 10. The tyranny of guilt
- 11. The pretence of repatriation
- 12. Learning to live with it
- 13. Tiredness
- 14. We’re stuck with this
- 15. Controlling the backlash
- 16. The feeling that the story has run out
- 17. The end
- 18. What might have been
- 19. What will be
- Notes
- Acknowledgements
- A Note on the Author
- Index
The island’s second facility, Kara Tepe, set up by the municipality in 2015, is aimed at housing families, women and children – though not unaccompanied minors, who are placed in houses. Although Kara Tepe has the capacity for 1,500 migrants, during parts of August 2016 it was only half full. Even though the recent coup in Turkey had put the agencies on alert for the possibility of a restart of the previous summer’s flows, at this point the island was comparatively calm. At the camp’s entrance there are opportunities for providing a service and for making money. Stall-holders had set up food vans and drinks stalls. The only other person trying to get into the camp was a young man from the Congo, who was based up the road at the camp at Moria but had come to visit his sister and her children at Kara Tepe. Outside he drank beer and smoked while we waited in the midday sun. He said that it was not possible for him to remain in the Congo. He had relations with the country’s political opposition and so it was no longer safe for him to be there. He said he was university educated, worked in a psychiatric hospital in the Congo, and could not get his phone to work to get through to his sister in Kara Tepe. People are not locked in, but nor can anybody simply wander in.