The Unseen Map: Navigating the Volunteer Experience in the refugee field in Ioannina, Greece
by Marie Anaïs Bertil
The European Commission's support for the production of this publication does not constitute an endorsement of the contents, which reflect the views only of the authors, and the Commission cannot be held responsible for any use which may be made of the information contained therein.
START
This project explores the invisible landscape of volunteering in the refugee sector in Ioannina.
Rather than focusing on refugees themselves, it focuses on the volunteers : their inner journeys, their questions, and the realities they navigate day by day. What brings people to volunteer? What do they expect to find, and what do they actually encounter? Through testimonies, fragments, and reflections, this project traces the emotional and ethical terrain of volunteering: moments of connection and powerlessness, learning and doubt, routine and transformation. It examines the tensions between motivation and limitation, care and boundaries, intention and impact. It also reveals the systemic gaps volunteers witness up close, often without the power to change them.
This work does not aim to glorify volunteering or present it as a linear story of help and success. Instead, it gives space to its nuances : the meaningful and the difficult, the messy and the beautiful, the moments that nourish and those that unsettle.
The result is an interactive online map: a reflective cartography of experiences that cannot be photographed or measured, but that shape how volunteers see the world, others, and themselves.
Methodology
Introduction
Global context
Local realities
Ethical reflections
References
The global context of volunteering in the refugee sector
Volunteering plays a significant and growing role in responses to human mobility worldwide. In its recent research on this topic, United Nations Volunteers (UNV) highlights that volunteers are now key actors in addressing the diverse challenges associated with large-scale displacement. As of mid-2024, an estimated 122.6 million people were displaced due to conflict, natural disasters, and other emergencies, creating urgent needs not only for humanitarian assistance but also for long-term inclusion and social cohesion (UNV, 2025). UNV’s work emphasizes that volunteers contribute at all stages of the migration journey from outreach and information provision to support for settlement and integration. Volunteers help ensure access to essential services, promote inclusive responses, and support migrant and refugee resilience across different contexts and regions (Churchill, 2025). Importantly, the research also notes that volunteering intersects with broader policy and governance efforts: when integrated into national systems and international strategies, volunteering can advance safer, more equitable, and more dignified approaches to migration and displacement.
The global context of volunteering in the refugee sector
This global perspective underscores a crucial insight: while volunteers often work in highly localised spaces (refugee camps, reception centres, urban settings, community centers…) their contributions are part of transnational responses to human mobility shaped by international frameworks like the 2030 Agenda for Sustainable Development (particularly SDG 10 on reduced inequalities and SDG 16 on peaceful, inclusive societies). Volunteers come from a wide range of backgrounds and join opportunities of very different types: from structured, formal programmes funded or supported by public institutions, such as the European Solidarity Corps, national volunteering programs in EU countries, or other international voluntary service initiatives, to more informal or private routes, such as direct contact with organisations or project hosts, or finding opportunities on volunteer‑exchange platforms like Workaway and similar networks.
Local Realities : Volunteering in Greece
The refugee crisis Greece has been central to Europe’s refugee dynamics for over a decade, shaped initially by the 2015 crisis and continuing through changing arrival patterns and policy responses. Although current arrivals remain far below the more than one million people who arrived in 2015, 2025 has seen a significant increase compared to the previous year, with over 7,300 arrivals recorded in the first half alone (DW, 2025). Despite this rise, the current situation differs from the earlier crisis, reflecting evolving migration routes, shifting EU policies, and broader geopolitical pressures. Recent policy measures, including the temporary suspension of asylum applications for arrivals by sea from North Africa, alongside local resistance to new reception facilities, highlight ongoing tensions between humanitarian obligations and political responses (DW, 2025).
Local Realities : Volunteering in Greece
The ecosystem in Ioannina In northern Greece, Ioannina offers a useful case study of how local ecosystems respond to refugee displacement through cooperation between municipal authorities, international organisations, civil society, and volunteers. UNHCR has recognised the municipality’s proactive approach to inclusion, highlighting initiatives such as the Municipal Operations Plan, the Council for the Integration of Migrants and Refugees (SEMP), and the implementation of the ESTIA accommodation programme, all of which aim to improve access to services and community participation (UNHCR, 2025). At the same time, challenges remain, including gaps in education access and persistent socioeconomic barriers. High local unemployment further implies some limits, reinforcing the importance of informal and volunteer-based support structures. Overall, Ioannina’s refugee ecosystem illustrates both progress and limitation : strong institutional engagement and international cooperation coexist with structural gaps that continue to be partially addressed by volunteers and civil society actors.
Local Realities : Volunteering in Greece
In the city, different actors are working among refugees.
On one hand there are municipal, government-linked and intergovernmental actors :
- Information Assistance Centre (IAC) / KEAN
- UNHCR (United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees)
On the other hand there is a strong ecosystem of local and volunteer-led organisations :
- The Youth Center of Epirus (YCE)
- BAAS (Be Aware and Share)
- International Centre for Sustainable Development (ICSD)
Ethical Reflections
The limits of the role of volunteers Reflecting on our own experience volunteering in Greece within the refugee field, some of us come to realize that the role of volunteers, while often driven by good intentions, is inherently limited in ways that are important to acknowledge ethically. These limitations span timing, privilege and vulnerability, impact, and some dynamics that may be problematic.
- Timing: being present temporarily in a long-term crisis
- Working in a space of privilege and vulnerability
- Reflections on impact: Are we helping or hurting?
- Voluntourism and the ego of helping
The port of arrival
Arrival is rarely heroic. It is hesitant, and slightly disorienting, a process rather than a destination. Volunteers step into Ioannina without a script, guided more by curiosity than certainty. For some, it is their first volunteer experience: “The experience in Ioannina was my first volunteer project.” Others arrive with prior experience, yet the uncertainty remains. Most volunteers (75%) had volunteered before, and nearly all were motivated both by humanitarian commitment and personal growth. Only a small fraction, 8.3%, came firstly to have more insights about the realities of migration. The moment of arrival is both external and internal. Some describe the city : “I landed in Ioannina… getting lost in the little streets, walking by the lake". For some, it's not arriving in the city "I am from Greece and was already living there before I started." Others focus on the shift within: “I wasn’t sure what I was getting into, but the moment I arrived in Ioannina, everything began to shift.” Some arrived with nothing in mind at all : “I arrived in Ioannina with no expectations.” Others arrived carrying nerves and anticipation : “At first, I was nervous: how should I behave?”.
The port of arrival
Even the shortest answers, brief, unfinished, sometimes almost careless, reveal an openness to the unknown : “not much, just curious”; “nothing except social experiences and learning English.” Some captured the feeling with humor: “Hummmm full of coffee.” Others immediately pointed toward what mattered most to them: “to get to know the people, the human experience with volunteers and the participants". Arrival is also about situating oneself in a new space. “Here we are, and for the next few weeks, Ioannina will be our home, our workplace,” wrote one volunteer. Others spoke about the newness of it all : “Working at a refugee camp will be a first for me.” Others focused on the practical things: “Ioannina is small so walking to work and the supermarket, coffee, bars etc was easy". In these small moments, volunteers begin to live both the city and the experience, finding their rhythm as the days start to shape their journey.
The port of arrival
Slowly, the days begin to settle into a rhythm. Volunteers learn to inhabit both the city and the experience through routine: “Working on my personal projects or personal things in the morning, lunch break, and then the practical work first in the office and then in the facility with the kids.” Or more simply: “office hours then facility.” Some describe a balance between structure and freedom: “enjoy the free morning, office hours to prepare for activities, work with kids, evening for fun.” At the same time, arrival brings its own challenges, even in these early stages, one most challenging part for some is “adapting to a new place and getting the new rhythm." In the Port of Arrival, volunteers are not yet actors shaping the story, they are witnesses and participants, standing at the edge of a new world. It is a space marked by curiosity, apprehension, and the first signs of transformation, captured by one simple, powerful reflection: “When I arrived here, I knew that my life would change forever.”
The Mountains of Expectation
Before reality settles in, expectations rise. Volunteers often arrive driven by ideals, education, or a desire to align values with action. For some, the motivation is simple and open-ended: “I wanted to volunteer… to discover new realities.” For others, volunteering represents a long-awaited bridge between theory and practice. One reflects, “As a graduate focusing on human rights, I could finally see the reception system firsthand” while another notes, “As a Master’s graduate [...] this was my first hands-on experience after years of theory.” Expectations take many forms. Some imagine themselves in familiar roles : “to be like a scout leader but with refugees” while others hope first “to be part of a team of individuals with similar ideas of helping support the center the best way possible” or to find “a sense of community and also a lot of emotional involvement.” One volunteer describes approaching the experience cautiously : “I tried to keep my expectations low, and expected only that at the very least it would be an experience and at best a good time.” For others, expectations were not naïve but consciously reflective. “I thought my role would focus mostly on being useful and assisting wherever needed. However, I also hoped it would be a space for human connection, mutual learning, and understanding different life stories.”
The Mountains of Expectation
Growth, both personal and professional, emerges repeatedly in these early projections. “This experience has changed me a lot… I hoped to grow professionally and personally” notes one volunteer. Another emphasizes learning through immersion: “Being in a country with a different culture… a constant source of learning.” Some responses echo these hopes, expressing a desire for connection, teamwork, and engagement, while some anticipated a more urgent, action-driven context: “I thought it would be more to work for the emergency.” One volunteer, aware of the emotional weight of the field, explained : “I was aware that working in the refugee sector could be emotionally challenging, but I expected it to be deeply meaningful and transformative both on a personal and collective level.” Inspiration often comes from others, from stories and examples that spark the decision to embark on this journey. “A friend has done this twice before and it was her stories that inspired me to join” writes one volunteer. For some, the motivation includes academic curiosity: “the possibility of conducting research”. Others speak more simply of what they hope to find: “meeting new people and sharing” or “meeting people and making new memories and stepping out of the comfort zone.”
The Mountains of Expectation
The Mountains of Expectation are tall and beautiful, and sometimes a little intimidating, shaped by dreams, ideals, and curiosity, as much as by what actually waits ahead. But on average, volunteers said their experience matched their expectations 8 out of 10. Yet the climb is never just about the summit; it’s about what you discover along the way, and the breaks you take to enjoy the views, because on paths like these, it’s worth remembering to "always expect the unexpected".
The Sea of Powerlessness
Sooner or later, expectations meet limits. Volunteers encounter moments when the scale of the system overwhelms individual effort. “Frustration and disappointment are part of the equation… the system and the resources… are not always sufficient” writes a volunteer. Slow, uncertain administrative processes add to the strain: “Long administrative processes are not always successful.” The landscape here is vast, slow-moving, and indifferent to personal motivation. Powerlessness is not only systemic but deeply emotional. Volunteers witness struggles they cannot resolve. “Some teenagers don’t have the mental space to engage” explains one, while another shares, “You see the sad moans of teenagers […] it was a challenge for me.” Others describe the difficulty of acknowledging realities without being able to change them: “leaving them and acknowledging their status quo, their stories, the hard reality of immigration.” Sometimes the limits appear in quieter ways: “accepting that despite the time and effort we put into preparing activities, there were moments when the children simply did not want to participate.” “Sometimes they had different interests, other times they were not in the mood, and occasionally they just needed space.” Hope, in these moments, is often projected outward: “I hope asylum and reception systems will evolve for the better.”
The Sea of Powerlessness
Language frequently intensifies this sense of limitation. Some fragments capture the strain in simple, repetitive phrases: “language sometimes and emotionally draining”; “The language”; “Maybe the communication sometimes like not everybody spoke English.” Cultural distance and harsh realities add another layer. One volunteer reflects, “I felt a culture shock because we have very different historical narratives, and many horrible things. All the more so when I saw the detention centres, which were inhumane.” Beyond individual experiences, volunteers are confronted with the broader context in which they operate. Despite collective effort, camps “barely provided minimum standards of human dignity” and time stretches endlessly: “The days became weeks and the weeks became months, with little information about when or where they might be going.” In this sea, volunteers begin to question their own role: "I wish I could help more. be more involved in the process, because sometimes I feel like I am not doing enough or could do more, but at the same time I know my place as a volunteer and that it is not my responsibility.”
The Sea of Powerlessness
The Sea of Powerlessness is deep, quiet, and overwhelming. It is where effort meets constraint, where empathy encounters the unchangeable, and where volunteers learn the difficult practice of witnessing without fixing : holding space, absorbing reality, and continuing to show up trusting that no sea remains perfectly still, and that movement, however subtle, always follows.
The Forest of Small Joys
Even with the heaviness of daily challenges, small moments offer relief. Again and again, volunteers point to brief, deeply human moments as anchors : connections that might seem small from the outside, but feel essential from within. “Their smiles, laughter, and strong character warm the heart” writes a volunteer, while another one reflects on “small moments built on care, trust, and shared humanity.” Some recall being welcomed through simple gestures: “smiles, curiosity, small questions.” For one volunteer, “The most rewarding part… was the deep connection I had built with the children,” a bond that, as they explain, “developed despite the fact that we did not share a common language.” When participation happens, it carries real weight. “I felt lucky whenever they chose to take part,” one volunteer shares. Another speaks to the surprise that sometimes comes with it: “When kids in the facility participate in an activity I didn’t expect them to enjoy.” These moments are never guaranteed, which is exactly what makes them so precious.
The Forest of Small Joys
Social bonds often extend beyond the working place. Volunteers speak about “Great and fun memories… dinners, laughs, spontaneous adventures,” and about “feeling like a part of a community in Ioannina and meeting so many kind and like minded people.” Others describe simpler but equally meaningful experiences: “Meeting new people and sharing”. Some volunteers reduce these experiences to short, meaningful phrases: “Seeing connections and a sense of familiarity grow with people through the weeks”; “the bond with kids”; “The human experience with volunteers and the participants.” Even food becomes a marker of joy and connection: “the empanadas,” or the cryptic but telling “the met.” Other stories mirror these moments : afternoons spent playing, learning dances, or being offered cake become “a favorite time of the day.” These small joys are not grand successes. They do not solve systems or erase hardship. But they sustain the journey, quietly reminding volunteers of what they came for: “the human experience".
The Desert of Routine
Volunteering is also repetition. Days blend into schedules that require consistency more than inspiration. One volunteer describes the rhythm precisely: “Start at 2:30, set up, and then either manage a clothing station or reception, cook, or look after kids… then eat dinner with everyone at 7ish and then clean up and finish between 9–10pm.” Others recount similar structures: “Working on my personal projects or personal things in the morning, lunch break, and then the practical work first in the office and then in the facility with the kids." Much of the work is ordinary and/or physical. “It was work, whether in the kitchen or cleaning, but always in good spirits and sharing.” Some emphasize the need for creativity within repetition: “Every day was more or less different with new ideas and projects to improve life at the center.” Survey descriptions are short and plain, capturing the day just as it is: “office hours then facility”; “Organize afternoon activities… painting, games…”
The Desert of Routine
Daily rhythms, while necessary, can be draining. “Sleeping enough haha,” one volunteer notes, half-joking. Others speak about practical fatigue: “well, I’m still trying to manage groceries”. Over time, routine becomes emotionally heavy too, especially when paired with stagnation: “The days became weeks and the weeks became months, with little information about when or where they might be going." talking about the situation they were facing. The participants themselves can find themselves in this, sometimes the hardest part is to "engage children in activities when they feel sleepy or they want to go out with friends" The Desert of Routine is not empty. It is full of tasks, repetition, and quiet endurance. It demands persistence, adaptability, and the ability to keep showing up even when progress feels invisible : "Sometimes I felt what we were doing was pointless, repetitive… until I realized that this was the point all along: building the ordinary."
The Storm Zone
At times, pressure accumulates, and the weight of the experience becomes intense. “Volunteering… is no easy task. It can be complex, emotionally intense, and overwhelming,” reflects one volunteer. Others recall “very challenging” days shaped by institutional constraints and uncertainty. Facing limits becomes unavoidable: “Facing the limitations of the system,” and “Sometimes frustration and disappointment are part of the equation.” Volunteers are confronted with harsh realities. “Some days were very challenging… realities we face,” one notes. Another reflects on the emotional burden of witnessing trauma: “We knew little about them, only that each had been through a hell of hardship.” Beyond individual emotions, there is also moral weight. One observer describes a “sense of deep shame” at the conditions people endure, while noting that “volunteers themselves can only be there by paying their own way, quitting jobs or putting careers on hold.”
The Storm Zone
Storms also emerge in everyday friction. “Sharing my room for more than 3 months with 4 people” one volunteer writes about the challenges they face. Others mention strain within teams: “Communication with part of teamworker for implementing new kinds of activities at the facility” or "struggles communicating with other volunteers" These moments test resilience and emotional capacity. Storms are not constant, but when they arrive, they shake certainty and force volunteers to confront their limits and to move through the storm with faith that light still waits beyond it : "everything gets better at one point with a bit of faith".
The Loop of Doubt
Doubt weaves through the experience, often resurfacing in new forms. Early nervousness returns as questions about impact and boundaries. “I leave with a mind full of questions,” one volunteer reflects. Another describes needing time “to know what I wanted and what I didn’t want.” Frustration appears beyond efforts “Frustration at times… adapting when no one joins the activity,” followed by the realization that “you have to get used to people coming and going.” Responses capture a big sense of uncertainty: “I don’t really know”; “Nothing”. Volunteers often wish they had more knowledge in advance: “More about the different laws for integration of people on the move in the world, especially about unaccompanied minors”; “That the activities aren’t mandatory for kids so you don’t know how many of them will participate." It puts this doubt in a wider context: “No one knows where this is all heading” Doubt often brings questions of limits and responsibility. Some volunteers describe learning, sometimes late, the importance of "communicating [...] boundaries clearly and calmly when needed". One reflects in hindsight: “Looking back, I wish I had known that I didn’t need to have everything perfectly planned.” At first, “I initially felt a lot of responsibility to always be prepared, effective, and impactful.”
The Loop of Doubt
Doubt is also shaped by identity and context.People carry with them the weight of how they are seen and how others might see them. “As a mixed race woman with brown skin, I could sense sometimes that it was not the typical people that they are used to meet.” That awareness, quiet but persistent, shaped how she approached each encounter with both caution and resilience, noticing the subtle dynamics that others might overlook. Language and emotional strain burden are common too : “language sometimes and emotionally draining”. Daily difficulties (transportation, groceries) add to the sense of uncertainty. The Loop of Doubt is not a failure. It is a reflective space where intentions meet unpredictable realities, and where volunteers continuously renegotiate their role, their limits, and their presence.
The Shortcut of Humor
Humor cuts through the heaviness of routine and doubt. Volunteers recall “shared dinners, laughs, spontaneous adventures,” and “Wonderful moments with other volunteers… laughter, sharing, fraternal exchanges.” Playfulness appears in everyday tools: “Google translate, hand gestures,” or in spontaneous activities: “baby football I think.” Moments of levity, small jokes, and playful interactions punctuate the difficult terrain. Jokes, games, music, and cooking become ways to breathe: “Jokes, activities (games especially), dancing/music, cooking.” Humor becomes survival “good humor helped", a shortcut through doubt and exhaustion. Laughter does not erase difficulty, but it offers relief, reminding volunteers that joy can coexist with challenge.
The Bridge of Connection
Connection is what allows volunteers to move forward through challenges. Many speak of learning to “communicate beyond language” and of building “strong and genuine connections.” Trust emerges gradually: “they gradually gave us their trust,” and “building trust with them (the participants).” Community extends across cultures and teams: “Warm and true friendships with other volunteers.” Answer fragments echo these experiences: “Meeting new people and sharing,” “Seeing connections… grow,” as the most rewarding aspect of this experience. Some stories show participants “came to feel like everyday neighbors,” and even those who did not join activities “stayed close, finding small ways to connect.” Building connection is not instinctive, it is practiced. Volunteers learn to "focus on shared goals, to match the other person’s level of openness", and to "build trust through listening, reliability, and consistency". Some came to see that “cultural differences are not barriers but opportunities to learn,” emphasizing the importance of “building trust gradually and respecting each person’s pace” and aiming “to be warm and supportive without becoming intrusive.”
The Bridge of Connection
These bridges are built deliberately. Through “trying to create a common language,” “taking the time and share simple pleasures”; “being friendly and respecting boundaries,” "relied a lot on non-verbal communication" and “being an open person and trying to be as respectful as possible in order to gain trust from the beneficiaries….putting myself at the same level.” Connection becomes both method and outcome, grounding volunteers in shared humanity either for a short period of time or for a lifetime : “These are connections I will carry with me forever,” knowing that “with every person we meet, we leave a part of ourselves and take a part in return.”
The Valley of Reflection
Looking back, volunteers describe an experience that continues to unfold long after it ends. Many speak of lasting transformation: “This experience changed me a lot, personally and professionally,” one reflects, while another notes, “I’ve learned so much… I will always carry these memories with me.” What once felt uncertain gradually settles into understanding. For some, everyday life on the ground becomes a form of answer in itself: “My daily life lived up to my expectations… I found answers.”. Looking back, volunteers describe practical wisdom gained over time: "respecting cultural norms …. being reliable and consistent", and understanding that trust grows slowly, through repetition rather than intensity. Gratitude and humility allow these reflections. Volunteers often measure their impact carefully, aware of both its limits and its value. “Our action is maybe just a little drop of water in the ocean… but if it wasn’t here it would miss,” one writes, capturing the tension between small-scale action and structural injustice. Others express a renewed sense of direction and commitment: “It inspired me to keep supporting vulnerable groups.” For many, it remains “an incredibly rewarding and eye-opening experience…” even as they recognize its complexity.
The Valley of Reflection
With distance, meaning becomes clearer. Some volunteers articulate lessons they wish they had known earlier: “That every humanitarian experience is different.” or how sharing this experience with people can help to cope with practical realities with an open mindset "I try to be flexible and ask other people for advice". Others simply acknowledge the importance of being heard: “Thank you for capturing these experiences!” Many describe returning home changed, carrying new confidence and skills: “I returned back home more confident,” “It motivated me to improve my communication skills…,” and the emotional weight of departure: “The hardest part? Saying goodbye to all these wonderful friends” When asked whether they would recommend volunteering, responses reveal both enthusiasm and nuance. Many answer without hesitation: “Yes [...] It's a meaningful experience,” or “sure, very rewarding experience, lots of personal growth and actually being helpful.” Others speak with affection and practicality : “I loved it and if finances and other practical things weren’t a consideration I’d do it all the time,” and “it was an amazing time and very cool to meet so many great people and learn from people with such different backgrounds and have everyone hang out together.”
The Valley of Reflection
Yet reflection also brings critical awareness. One volunteer offers a more complex response: “It's difficult to say whether I would recommend it. I can only say that in the current context, it's a subject I find important, particularly in Greece, where refugees' rights are increasingly being violated by the authorities and there is a profound dehumanisation of refugees.” They continue by emphasizing the need for awareness and openness: “to be open to other cultures, ways of thinking and experiences in order to understand and give back a face to these people who have become numbers and who find themselves waiting, even though they left their country to survive.” For some, it’s also a way to really see what working with refugees is like: “it can be a real eye opening experience but at the same time it can be overwhelming so it is definitely not for everybody”. The Valley of Reflection does not close the map, it reframes it. It is both an ending and a beginning, where experience turns into insight, memory becomes responsibility, and the journey continues beyond the visible path : “Here, my life shifted, and I will carry that shift with me always.” And perhaps this is what remains most clearly: “Even small gestures, a smile, or simply spending time with someone can make a big difference.”
References
United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR) Greece. (2025). UNHCR recognises Ioannina’s commitment to effective inclusion of refugees.
https://www.unhcr.org/gr/en/news/unhcr-recognises-ioannina-s-commitment-effective-inclusion-refugees Bali, K. (2025, July 17). Is Greece in the middle of a new refugee crisis? dw.com. https://www.dw.com/en/is-greece-in-the-middle-of-a-new-refugee-crisis/a-73292145 Dyson, S. (2023, October 6). Here’s Why Everything You Thought You Knew About Volunteering Is Wrong - Worldly Adventurer. Worldly Adventurer. https://worldlyadventurer.com/volunteering-misconceptions/ Meijeren, M., Lubbers, M., & Scheepers, P. (2023). Assessing the ‘Why’ in Volunteering for Refugees: Exploring Volunteer Motivations. VOLUNTAS International Journal of Voluntary and Nonprofit Organizations, 35(1), 129–139. https://doi.org/10.1007/s11266-023-00574-y Psaropoulos, J. T. (2019, May 6). Some refugees are now integrated. Can Greece’s economy keep up? Al Jazeera. https://www.aljazeera.com/features/2019/5/6/some-refugees-are-now-integrated-can-greeces-economy-keep-up The Contribution of Volunteering in Human Mobility Contexts | Knowledge Portal on Volunteerism. (2025, April 4). https://knowledge.unv.org/evidence-library/the-contribution-of-volunteering-in-human-mobility-contexts Van Vloten, S. (2025, November 21). Let’s talk about the problems with volunteering. The Philanthropist Journal. https://thephilanthropist.ca/2022/04/lets-talk-about-the-problems-with-volunteering/ Yanay‐Ventura, G., & Ben‐Asher, S. (2025). Volunteering for Refugees as a Journey of Growth and Pain. Journal of Community & Applied Social Psychology, 35(4). https://doi.org/10.1002/casp.70127
Reflections on impact: Are we helping or hurting?
A question that can keep returning to is: Are we really helping? If so, how? On the surface, volunteering may seem beneficial. But as some critics argue, the real impact of short-term helpers is often negligible without local continuity and deep cultural understanding. Many volunteering narratives assume a direct line between good intentions and positive outcomes, yet the relationship between effort and effect is far more complex. It is easy to assume that being physically present and offering help is always beneficial, yet this assumption does not always hold true. In some cases, volunteer involvement may have limited impact or even unintended consequences, particularly if it replaces paid local work or diverts resources away from long-term initiatives. As highlighted in critiques of volunteering models, the money spent on travel and accommodation for volunteers could sometimes be more effectively used by directly funding local organisations or staff (Worldly Adventurer). This raised uncomfortable but necessary questions for me: Was our presence responding to real needs identified by the community, or was it shaped more by my desire to help? Ethical volunteering requires constant reflection not only on intentions, but on outcomes, who benefits, how, and whether the support offered is truly what is needed.
Second Tree
is a volunteer-founded organisation working primarily in the camps and nearby accommodation sites, focusing on education, language learning, and community-building.
BAAS (Be Aware and Share)
operates a community center in Ioannina that offers educational, psychosocial, and community-based activities for refugees and local residents.
The Youth Center of Epirus (YCE)
contributes to the integration of asylum seekers by operating local and regional projects that provide accommodation, integration support, healthcare, education, and other essential services in the Epirus region. A key part of this work is carried out through international volunteering, with volunteers responsible for facilitating non-formal activities for young asylum seekers.
Information Assistance Centre (IAC) / KEAN
Co-funded by UNHCR and implemented with local partners, the IAC functions as a key access point for refugees and asylum seekers seeking information on documentation, public services, and local integration pathways, linking municipal structures with individual needs.
Habibi.works
uses sport and recreational activities as tools for empowerment and social inclusion, creating informal spaces near Katsikas camp.
Voluntourism and the ego of helping
This brings to another limitation: what some call voluntourism. This term describes a style of volunteering that overlaps significantly with tourism, usually short stays in another country framed as both service and adventure. Some volunteers only stay for a few weeks. In such cases, there is a risk of reinforcing a “saviour complex” where volunteers focus more on their own experience than on supporting sustainable community outcomes. Critics argue that such approaches risk turning complex social issues into short-term experiences that serve the volunteer more than those affected (Worldly Adventurer).In refugee contexts, this can manifest through the focus on volunteer stories, photographs, and personal growth narratives, rather than the voices and agency of refugees themselves. Reflecting on this necessitates more care. Sometimes, the most ethical response may involve stepping back, supporting local leadership, or questioning whether one’s presence is necessary at all.Although this project focuses on the experiences of volunteers, it is important to clarify that the intention is not to place them on a pedestal. Rather, the aim is to make space for their voices, recognising that they are part of a broader ecosystem of actors in the refugee field. These voices are neither more nor less important than others, and must be approached with humility, particularly given the existing power imbalances between volunteers, local actors, and people on the move themselves.
This project is built from the voices of volunteers who shared their experiences in the refugee sector in Ioannina, through written reflections, forms, and publicly shared personal stories. It brings together 12 written survey responses and longer personal testimonies, reflecting a diversity of perspectives and journeys. The age range is from 21 to 46, with varied educational and professional backgrounds, and different levels of prior humanitarian experience. Most of them were volunteering with people on the move either in community centres, camps and/or in facilities for unaccompanied minors. Some volunteered for a few weeks, others for several months. What connects them is not a single organization or pathway, but the shared experience of stepping into this field and navigating its emotional, practical, and ethical realities. These testimonies were approached as conversations rather than data, and treated with care, respect, and gratitude.
UNHCR (United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees)
provides strategic guidance and operational support in Ioannina, recognising municipal inclusion efforts and supporting coordination among local authorities, civil society, and refugee communities to improve access to services and participation.
Municipality of Ioannina
The Municipality plays a coordinating role in refugee inclusion through local policy initiatives, public events, and participation in European migration dialogues. Its actions signal an institutional effort to frame refugees as part of the city’s social and cultural life.
International Centre for Sustainable Development (ICSD)
coordinates some volunteering projects and activities that support refugee inclusion and community development. Its activities focus on economic and social development, entrepreneurship, reducing inequalities, supporting vulnerable groups, and promoting cultural and natural resources.
Working in a space of privilege and vulnerability
Volunteering in the refugee field also means operating in a space shaped by unequal power dynamics. We can become aware that our ability to volunteer was tied to privilege : having the time, financial means, and freedom to travel and work without or with little pay. As The Philanthropist (2022) argues, volunteering is not equally accessible and is often dominated by those who are already relatively secure. In contrast, refugees are positioned in situations of extreme vulnerability, marked by uncertainty, trauma, and limited agency. This contrast can unintentionally reinforce a hierarchy between volunteers and refugees, where volunteers are seen as “helpers” and refugees as passive recipients of aid. Without careful reflection, such dynamics risk reproducing the very inequalities that humanitarian work seeks to challenge. Recognising this imbalance forced some of us to reconsider how we interacted with people, and whether our actions were rooted in solidarity or unconsciously shaped by privilege.
Timing: being present temporarily in a long-term crisis
One of the first limitations some noticed relates to timing. Many volunteers, myself included, enter the refugee field for a relatively short period of time, while the realities of displacement, asylum procedures, and integration are long-term and ongoing. While we may arrive with energy and commitment, sustainability is a much slower process than our weeks or even months on the ground allow. This creates an imbalance between the duration of volunteer involvement and the continuity that refugee communities actually need. Short-term volunteers may bring motivation and energy, but they often leave just as they are beginning to understand the complexity of the context. Volunteers often rotate in and out, leaving gaps that communities must adjust to repeatedly, which raises the question: Are we offering continuity, or just temporary support? As critiques of international volunteering point out, constant turnover can place an additional burden on organisations that must repeatedly train new volunteers rather than focusing on sustainable solutions (Worldly Adventurer).
The Unseen Map
Anaïs BERTIL
Created on January 28, 2026
Start designing with a free template
Discover more than 1500 professional designs like these:
View
Essential Map
View
Akihabara Map
View
Discover Your AI Assistant
View
Match the Verbs in Spanish: Present and Past
View
Syllabus Organizer for Higher Education
View
History Infographic
View
Visual Thinking Infographic
Explore all templates
Transcript
The Unseen Map: Navigating the Volunteer Experience in the refugee field in Ioannina, Greece
by Marie Anaïs Bertil
The European Commission's support for the production of this publication does not constitute an endorsement of the contents, which reflect the views only of the authors, and the Commission cannot be held responsible for any use which may be made of the information contained therein.
START
This project explores the invisible landscape of volunteering in the refugee sector in Ioannina.
Rather than focusing on refugees themselves, it focuses on the volunteers : their inner journeys, their questions, and the realities they navigate day by day. What brings people to volunteer? What do they expect to find, and what do they actually encounter? Through testimonies, fragments, and reflections, this project traces the emotional and ethical terrain of volunteering: moments of connection and powerlessness, learning and doubt, routine and transformation. It examines the tensions between motivation and limitation, care and boundaries, intention and impact. It also reveals the systemic gaps volunteers witness up close, often without the power to change them.
This work does not aim to glorify volunteering or present it as a linear story of help and success. Instead, it gives space to its nuances : the meaningful and the difficult, the messy and the beautiful, the moments that nourish and those that unsettle. The result is an interactive online map: a reflective cartography of experiences that cannot be photographed or measured, but that shape how volunteers see the world, others, and themselves.
Methodology
Introduction
Global context
Local realities
Ethical reflections
References
The global context of volunteering in the refugee sector
Volunteering plays a significant and growing role in responses to human mobility worldwide. In its recent research on this topic, United Nations Volunteers (UNV) highlights that volunteers are now key actors in addressing the diverse challenges associated with large-scale displacement. As of mid-2024, an estimated 122.6 million people were displaced due to conflict, natural disasters, and other emergencies, creating urgent needs not only for humanitarian assistance but also for long-term inclusion and social cohesion (UNV, 2025). UNV’s work emphasizes that volunteers contribute at all stages of the migration journey from outreach and information provision to support for settlement and integration. Volunteers help ensure access to essential services, promote inclusive responses, and support migrant and refugee resilience across different contexts and regions (Churchill, 2025). Importantly, the research also notes that volunteering intersects with broader policy and governance efforts: when integrated into national systems and international strategies, volunteering can advance safer, more equitable, and more dignified approaches to migration and displacement.
The global context of volunteering in the refugee sector
This global perspective underscores a crucial insight: while volunteers often work in highly localised spaces (refugee camps, reception centres, urban settings, community centers…) their contributions are part of transnational responses to human mobility shaped by international frameworks like the 2030 Agenda for Sustainable Development (particularly SDG 10 on reduced inequalities and SDG 16 on peaceful, inclusive societies). Volunteers come from a wide range of backgrounds and join opportunities of very different types: from structured, formal programmes funded or supported by public institutions, such as the European Solidarity Corps, national volunteering programs in EU countries, or other international voluntary service initiatives, to more informal or private routes, such as direct contact with organisations or project hosts, or finding opportunities on volunteer‑exchange platforms like Workaway and similar networks.
Local Realities : Volunteering in Greece
The refugee crisis Greece has been central to Europe’s refugee dynamics for over a decade, shaped initially by the 2015 crisis and continuing through changing arrival patterns and policy responses. Although current arrivals remain far below the more than one million people who arrived in 2015, 2025 has seen a significant increase compared to the previous year, with over 7,300 arrivals recorded in the first half alone (DW, 2025). Despite this rise, the current situation differs from the earlier crisis, reflecting evolving migration routes, shifting EU policies, and broader geopolitical pressures. Recent policy measures, including the temporary suspension of asylum applications for arrivals by sea from North Africa, alongside local resistance to new reception facilities, highlight ongoing tensions between humanitarian obligations and political responses (DW, 2025).
Local Realities : Volunteering in Greece
The ecosystem in Ioannina In northern Greece, Ioannina offers a useful case study of how local ecosystems respond to refugee displacement through cooperation between municipal authorities, international organisations, civil society, and volunteers. UNHCR has recognised the municipality’s proactive approach to inclusion, highlighting initiatives such as the Municipal Operations Plan, the Council for the Integration of Migrants and Refugees (SEMP), and the implementation of the ESTIA accommodation programme, all of which aim to improve access to services and community participation (UNHCR, 2025). At the same time, challenges remain, including gaps in education access and persistent socioeconomic barriers. High local unemployment further implies some limits, reinforcing the importance of informal and volunteer-based support structures. Overall, Ioannina’s refugee ecosystem illustrates both progress and limitation : strong institutional engagement and international cooperation coexist with structural gaps that continue to be partially addressed by volunteers and civil society actors.
Local Realities : Volunteering in Greece
In the city, different actors are working among refugees.
On one hand there are municipal, government-linked and intergovernmental actors :
On the other hand there is a strong ecosystem of local and volunteer-led organisations :
Ethical Reflections
The limits of the role of volunteers Reflecting on our own experience volunteering in Greece within the refugee field, some of us come to realize that the role of volunteers, while often driven by good intentions, is inherently limited in ways that are important to acknowledge ethically. These limitations span timing, privilege and vulnerability, impact, and some dynamics that may be problematic.
The port of arrival
Arrival is rarely heroic. It is hesitant, and slightly disorienting, a process rather than a destination. Volunteers step into Ioannina without a script, guided more by curiosity than certainty. For some, it is their first volunteer experience: “The experience in Ioannina was my first volunteer project.” Others arrive with prior experience, yet the uncertainty remains. Most volunteers (75%) had volunteered before, and nearly all were motivated both by humanitarian commitment and personal growth. Only a small fraction, 8.3%, came firstly to have more insights about the realities of migration. The moment of arrival is both external and internal. Some describe the city : “I landed in Ioannina… getting lost in the little streets, walking by the lake". For some, it's not arriving in the city "I am from Greece and was already living there before I started." Others focus on the shift within: “I wasn’t sure what I was getting into, but the moment I arrived in Ioannina, everything began to shift.” Some arrived with nothing in mind at all : “I arrived in Ioannina with no expectations.” Others arrived carrying nerves and anticipation : “At first, I was nervous: how should I behave?”.
The port of arrival
Even the shortest answers, brief, unfinished, sometimes almost careless, reveal an openness to the unknown : “not much, just curious”; “nothing except social experiences and learning English.” Some captured the feeling with humor: “Hummmm full of coffee.” Others immediately pointed toward what mattered most to them: “to get to know the people, the human experience with volunteers and the participants". Arrival is also about situating oneself in a new space. “Here we are, and for the next few weeks, Ioannina will be our home, our workplace,” wrote one volunteer. Others spoke about the newness of it all : “Working at a refugee camp will be a first for me.” Others focused on the practical things: “Ioannina is small so walking to work and the supermarket, coffee, bars etc was easy". In these small moments, volunteers begin to live both the city and the experience, finding their rhythm as the days start to shape their journey.
The port of arrival
Slowly, the days begin to settle into a rhythm. Volunteers learn to inhabit both the city and the experience through routine: “Working on my personal projects or personal things in the morning, lunch break, and then the practical work first in the office and then in the facility with the kids.” Or more simply: “office hours then facility.” Some describe a balance between structure and freedom: “enjoy the free morning, office hours to prepare for activities, work with kids, evening for fun.” At the same time, arrival brings its own challenges, even in these early stages, one most challenging part for some is “adapting to a new place and getting the new rhythm." In the Port of Arrival, volunteers are not yet actors shaping the story, they are witnesses and participants, standing at the edge of a new world. It is a space marked by curiosity, apprehension, and the first signs of transformation, captured by one simple, powerful reflection: “When I arrived here, I knew that my life would change forever.”
The Mountains of Expectation
Before reality settles in, expectations rise. Volunteers often arrive driven by ideals, education, or a desire to align values with action. For some, the motivation is simple and open-ended: “I wanted to volunteer… to discover new realities.” For others, volunteering represents a long-awaited bridge between theory and practice. One reflects, “As a graduate focusing on human rights, I could finally see the reception system firsthand” while another notes, “As a Master’s graduate [...] this was my first hands-on experience after years of theory.” Expectations take many forms. Some imagine themselves in familiar roles : “to be like a scout leader but with refugees” while others hope first “to be part of a team of individuals with similar ideas of helping support the center the best way possible” or to find “a sense of community and also a lot of emotional involvement.” One volunteer describes approaching the experience cautiously : “I tried to keep my expectations low, and expected only that at the very least it would be an experience and at best a good time.” For others, expectations were not naïve but consciously reflective. “I thought my role would focus mostly on being useful and assisting wherever needed. However, I also hoped it would be a space for human connection, mutual learning, and understanding different life stories.”
The Mountains of Expectation
Growth, both personal and professional, emerges repeatedly in these early projections. “This experience has changed me a lot… I hoped to grow professionally and personally” notes one volunteer. Another emphasizes learning through immersion: “Being in a country with a different culture… a constant source of learning.” Some responses echo these hopes, expressing a desire for connection, teamwork, and engagement, while some anticipated a more urgent, action-driven context: “I thought it would be more to work for the emergency.” One volunteer, aware of the emotional weight of the field, explained : “I was aware that working in the refugee sector could be emotionally challenging, but I expected it to be deeply meaningful and transformative both on a personal and collective level.” Inspiration often comes from others, from stories and examples that spark the decision to embark on this journey. “A friend has done this twice before and it was her stories that inspired me to join” writes one volunteer. For some, the motivation includes academic curiosity: “the possibility of conducting research”. Others speak more simply of what they hope to find: “meeting new people and sharing” or “meeting people and making new memories and stepping out of the comfort zone.”
The Mountains of Expectation
The Mountains of Expectation are tall and beautiful, and sometimes a little intimidating, shaped by dreams, ideals, and curiosity, as much as by what actually waits ahead. But on average, volunteers said their experience matched their expectations 8 out of 10. Yet the climb is never just about the summit; it’s about what you discover along the way, and the breaks you take to enjoy the views, because on paths like these, it’s worth remembering to "always expect the unexpected".
The Sea of Powerlessness
Sooner or later, expectations meet limits. Volunteers encounter moments when the scale of the system overwhelms individual effort. “Frustration and disappointment are part of the equation… the system and the resources… are not always sufficient” writes a volunteer. Slow, uncertain administrative processes add to the strain: “Long administrative processes are not always successful.” The landscape here is vast, slow-moving, and indifferent to personal motivation. Powerlessness is not only systemic but deeply emotional. Volunteers witness struggles they cannot resolve. “Some teenagers don’t have the mental space to engage” explains one, while another shares, “You see the sad moans of teenagers […] it was a challenge for me.” Others describe the difficulty of acknowledging realities without being able to change them: “leaving them and acknowledging their status quo, their stories, the hard reality of immigration.” Sometimes the limits appear in quieter ways: “accepting that despite the time and effort we put into preparing activities, there were moments when the children simply did not want to participate.” “Sometimes they had different interests, other times they were not in the mood, and occasionally they just needed space.” Hope, in these moments, is often projected outward: “I hope asylum and reception systems will evolve for the better.”
The Sea of Powerlessness
Language frequently intensifies this sense of limitation. Some fragments capture the strain in simple, repetitive phrases: “language sometimes and emotionally draining”; “The language”; “Maybe the communication sometimes like not everybody spoke English.” Cultural distance and harsh realities add another layer. One volunteer reflects, “I felt a culture shock because we have very different historical narratives, and many horrible things. All the more so when I saw the detention centres, which were inhumane.” Beyond individual experiences, volunteers are confronted with the broader context in which they operate. Despite collective effort, camps “barely provided minimum standards of human dignity” and time stretches endlessly: “The days became weeks and the weeks became months, with little information about when or where they might be going.” In this sea, volunteers begin to question their own role: "I wish I could help more. be more involved in the process, because sometimes I feel like I am not doing enough or could do more, but at the same time I know my place as a volunteer and that it is not my responsibility.”
The Sea of Powerlessness
The Sea of Powerlessness is deep, quiet, and overwhelming. It is where effort meets constraint, where empathy encounters the unchangeable, and where volunteers learn the difficult practice of witnessing without fixing : holding space, absorbing reality, and continuing to show up trusting that no sea remains perfectly still, and that movement, however subtle, always follows.
The Forest of Small Joys
Even with the heaviness of daily challenges, small moments offer relief. Again and again, volunteers point to brief, deeply human moments as anchors : connections that might seem small from the outside, but feel essential from within. “Their smiles, laughter, and strong character warm the heart” writes a volunteer, while another one reflects on “small moments built on care, trust, and shared humanity.” Some recall being welcomed through simple gestures: “smiles, curiosity, small questions.” For one volunteer, “The most rewarding part… was the deep connection I had built with the children,” a bond that, as they explain, “developed despite the fact that we did not share a common language.” When participation happens, it carries real weight. “I felt lucky whenever they chose to take part,” one volunteer shares. Another speaks to the surprise that sometimes comes with it: “When kids in the facility participate in an activity I didn’t expect them to enjoy.” These moments are never guaranteed, which is exactly what makes them so precious.
The Forest of Small Joys
Social bonds often extend beyond the working place. Volunteers speak about “Great and fun memories… dinners, laughs, spontaneous adventures,” and about “feeling like a part of a community in Ioannina and meeting so many kind and like minded people.” Others describe simpler but equally meaningful experiences: “Meeting new people and sharing”. Some volunteers reduce these experiences to short, meaningful phrases: “Seeing connections and a sense of familiarity grow with people through the weeks”; “the bond with kids”; “The human experience with volunteers and the participants.” Even food becomes a marker of joy and connection: “the empanadas,” or the cryptic but telling “the met.” Other stories mirror these moments : afternoons spent playing, learning dances, or being offered cake become “a favorite time of the day.” These small joys are not grand successes. They do not solve systems or erase hardship. But they sustain the journey, quietly reminding volunteers of what they came for: “the human experience".
The Desert of Routine
Volunteering is also repetition. Days blend into schedules that require consistency more than inspiration. One volunteer describes the rhythm precisely: “Start at 2:30, set up, and then either manage a clothing station or reception, cook, or look after kids… then eat dinner with everyone at 7ish and then clean up and finish between 9–10pm.” Others recount similar structures: “Working on my personal projects or personal things in the morning, lunch break, and then the practical work first in the office and then in the facility with the kids." Much of the work is ordinary and/or physical. “It was work, whether in the kitchen or cleaning, but always in good spirits and sharing.” Some emphasize the need for creativity within repetition: “Every day was more or less different with new ideas and projects to improve life at the center.” Survey descriptions are short and plain, capturing the day just as it is: “office hours then facility”; “Organize afternoon activities… painting, games…”
The Desert of Routine
Daily rhythms, while necessary, can be draining. “Sleeping enough haha,” one volunteer notes, half-joking. Others speak about practical fatigue: “well, I’m still trying to manage groceries”. Over time, routine becomes emotionally heavy too, especially when paired with stagnation: “The days became weeks and the weeks became months, with little information about when or where they might be going." talking about the situation they were facing. The participants themselves can find themselves in this, sometimes the hardest part is to "engage children in activities when they feel sleepy or they want to go out with friends" The Desert of Routine is not empty. It is full of tasks, repetition, and quiet endurance. It demands persistence, adaptability, and the ability to keep showing up even when progress feels invisible : "Sometimes I felt what we were doing was pointless, repetitive… until I realized that this was the point all along: building the ordinary."
The Storm Zone
At times, pressure accumulates, and the weight of the experience becomes intense. “Volunteering… is no easy task. It can be complex, emotionally intense, and overwhelming,” reflects one volunteer. Others recall “very challenging” days shaped by institutional constraints and uncertainty. Facing limits becomes unavoidable: “Facing the limitations of the system,” and “Sometimes frustration and disappointment are part of the equation.” Volunteers are confronted with harsh realities. “Some days were very challenging… realities we face,” one notes. Another reflects on the emotional burden of witnessing trauma: “We knew little about them, only that each had been through a hell of hardship.” Beyond individual emotions, there is also moral weight. One observer describes a “sense of deep shame” at the conditions people endure, while noting that “volunteers themselves can only be there by paying their own way, quitting jobs or putting careers on hold.”
The Storm Zone
Storms also emerge in everyday friction. “Sharing my room for more than 3 months with 4 people” one volunteer writes about the challenges they face. Others mention strain within teams: “Communication with part of teamworker for implementing new kinds of activities at the facility” or "struggles communicating with other volunteers" These moments test resilience and emotional capacity. Storms are not constant, but when they arrive, they shake certainty and force volunteers to confront their limits and to move through the storm with faith that light still waits beyond it : "everything gets better at one point with a bit of faith".
The Loop of Doubt
Doubt weaves through the experience, often resurfacing in new forms. Early nervousness returns as questions about impact and boundaries. “I leave with a mind full of questions,” one volunteer reflects. Another describes needing time “to know what I wanted and what I didn’t want.” Frustration appears beyond efforts “Frustration at times… adapting when no one joins the activity,” followed by the realization that “you have to get used to people coming and going.” Responses capture a big sense of uncertainty: “I don’t really know”; “Nothing”. Volunteers often wish they had more knowledge in advance: “More about the different laws for integration of people on the move in the world, especially about unaccompanied minors”; “That the activities aren’t mandatory for kids so you don’t know how many of them will participate." It puts this doubt in a wider context: “No one knows where this is all heading” Doubt often brings questions of limits and responsibility. Some volunteers describe learning, sometimes late, the importance of "communicating [...] boundaries clearly and calmly when needed". One reflects in hindsight: “Looking back, I wish I had known that I didn’t need to have everything perfectly planned.” At first, “I initially felt a lot of responsibility to always be prepared, effective, and impactful.”
The Loop of Doubt
Doubt is also shaped by identity and context.People carry with them the weight of how they are seen and how others might see them. “As a mixed race woman with brown skin, I could sense sometimes that it was not the typical people that they are used to meet.” That awareness, quiet but persistent, shaped how she approached each encounter with both caution and resilience, noticing the subtle dynamics that others might overlook. Language and emotional strain burden are common too : “language sometimes and emotionally draining”. Daily difficulties (transportation, groceries) add to the sense of uncertainty. The Loop of Doubt is not a failure. It is a reflective space where intentions meet unpredictable realities, and where volunteers continuously renegotiate their role, their limits, and their presence.
The Shortcut of Humor
Humor cuts through the heaviness of routine and doubt. Volunteers recall “shared dinners, laughs, spontaneous adventures,” and “Wonderful moments with other volunteers… laughter, sharing, fraternal exchanges.” Playfulness appears in everyday tools: “Google translate, hand gestures,” or in spontaneous activities: “baby football I think.” Moments of levity, small jokes, and playful interactions punctuate the difficult terrain. Jokes, games, music, and cooking become ways to breathe: “Jokes, activities (games especially), dancing/music, cooking.” Humor becomes survival “good humor helped", a shortcut through doubt and exhaustion. Laughter does not erase difficulty, but it offers relief, reminding volunteers that joy can coexist with challenge.
The Bridge of Connection
Connection is what allows volunteers to move forward through challenges. Many speak of learning to “communicate beyond language” and of building “strong and genuine connections.” Trust emerges gradually: “they gradually gave us their trust,” and “building trust with them (the participants).” Community extends across cultures and teams: “Warm and true friendships with other volunteers.” Answer fragments echo these experiences: “Meeting new people and sharing,” “Seeing connections… grow,” as the most rewarding aspect of this experience. Some stories show participants “came to feel like everyday neighbors,” and even those who did not join activities “stayed close, finding small ways to connect.” Building connection is not instinctive, it is practiced. Volunteers learn to "focus on shared goals, to match the other person’s level of openness", and to "build trust through listening, reliability, and consistency". Some came to see that “cultural differences are not barriers but opportunities to learn,” emphasizing the importance of “building trust gradually and respecting each person’s pace” and aiming “to be warm and supportive without becoming intrusive.”
The Bridge of Connection
These bridges are built deliberately. Through “trying to create a common language,” “taking the time and share simple pleasures”; “being friendly and respecting boundaries,” "relied a lot on non-verbal communication" and “being an open person and trying to be as respectful as possible in order to gain trust from the beneficiaries….putting myself at the same level.” Connection becomes both method and outcome, grounding volunteers in shared humanity either for a short period of time or for a lifetime : “These are connections I will carry with me forever,” knowing that “with every person we meet, we leave a part of ourselves and take a part in return.”
The Valley of Reflection
Looking back, volunteers describe an experience that continues to unfold long after it ends. Many speak of lasting transformation: “This experience changed me a lot, personally and professionally,” one reflects, while another notes, “I’ve learned so much… I will always carry these memories with me.” What once felt uncertain gradually settles into understanding. For some, everyday life on the ground becomes a form of answer in itself: “My daily life lived up to my expectations… I found answers.”. Looking back, volunteers describe practical wisdom gained over time: "respecting cultural norms …. being reliable and consistent", and understanding that trust grows slowly, through repetition rather than intensity. Gratitude and humility allow these reflections. Volunteers often measure their impact carefully, aware of both its limits and its value. “Our action is maybe just a little drop of water in the ocean… but if it wasn’t here it would miss,” one writes, capturing the tension between small-scale action and structural injustice. Others express a renewed sense of direction and commitment: “It inspired me to keep supporting vulnerable groups.” For many, it remains “an incredibly rewarding and eye-opening experience…” even as they recognize its complexity.
The Valley of Reflection
With distance, meaning becomes clearer. Some volunteers articulate lessons they wish they had known earlier: “That every humanitarian experience is different.” or how sharing this experience with people can help to cope with practical realities with an open mindset "I try to be flexible and ask other people for advice". Others simply acknowledge the importance of being heard: “Thank you for capturing these experiences!” Many describe returning home changed, carrying new confidence and skills: “I returned back home more confident,” “It motivated me to improve my communication skills…,” and the emotional weight of departure: “The hardest part? Saying goodbye to all these wonderful friends” When asked whether they would recommend volunteering, responses reveal both enthusiasm and nuance. Many answer without hesitation: “Yes [...] It's a meaningful experience,” or “sure, very rewarding experience, lots of personal growth and actually being helpful.” Others speak with affection and practicality : “I loved it and if finances and other practical things weren’t a consideration I’d do it all the time,” and “it was an amazing time and very cool to meet so many great people and learn from people with such different backgrounds and have everyone hang out together.”
The Valley of Reflection
Yet reflection also brings critical awareness. One volunteer offers a more complex response: “It's difficult to say whether I would recommend it. I can only say that in the current context, it's a subject I find important, particularly in Greece, where refugees' rights are increasingly being violated by the authorities and there is a profound dehumanisation of refugees.” They continue by emphasizing the need for awareness and openness: “to be open to other cultures, ways of thinking and experiences in order to understand and give back a face to these people who have become numbers and who find themselves waiting, even though they left their country to survive.” For some, it’s also a way to really see what working with refugees is like: “it can be a real eye opening experience but at the same time it can be overwhelming so it is definitely not for everybody”. The Valley of Reflection does not close the map, it reframes it. It is both an ending and a beginning, where experience turns into insight, memory becomes responsibility, and the journey continues beyond the visible path : “Here, my life shifted, and I will carry that shift with me always.” And perhaps this is what remains most clearly: “Even small gestures, a smile, or simply spending time with someone can make a big difference.”
References
United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR) Greece. (2025). UNHCR recognises Ioannina’s commitment to effective inclusion of refugees. https://www.unhcr.org/gr/en/news/unhcr-recognises-ioannina-s-commitment-effective-inclusion-refugees Bali, K. (2025, July 17). Is Greece in the middle of a new refugee crisis? dw.com. https://www.dw.com/en/is-greece-in-the-middle-of-a-new-refugee-crisis/a-73292145 Dyson, S. (2023, October 6). Here’s Why Everything You Thought You Knew About Volunteering Is Wrong - Worldly Adventurer. Worldly Adventurer. https://worldlyadventurer.com/volunteering-misconceptions/ Meijeren, M., Lubbers, M., & Scheepers, P. (2023). Assessing the ‘Why’ in Volunteering for Refugees: Exploring Volunteer Motivations. VOLUNTAS International Journal of Voluntary and Nonprofit Organizations, 35(1), 129–139. https://doi.org/10.1007/s11266-023-00574-y Psaropoulos, J. T. (2019, May 6). Some refugees are now integrated. Can Greece’s economy keep up? Al Jazeera. https://www.aljazeera.com/features/2019/5/6/some-refugees-are-now-integrated-can-greeces-economy-keep-up The Contribution of Volunteering in Human Mobility Contexts | Knowledge Portal on Volunteerism. (2025, April 4). https://knowledge.unv.org/evidence-library/the-contribution-of-volunteering-in-human-mobility-contexts Van Vloten, S. (2025, November 21). Let’s talk about the problems with volunteering. The Philanthropist Journal. https://thephilanthropist.ca/2022/04/lets-talk-about-the-problems-with-volunteering/ Yanay‐Ventura, G., & Ben‐Asher, S. (2025). Volunteering for Refugees as a Journey of Growth and Pain. Journal of Community & Applied Social Psychology, 35(4). https://doi.org/10.1002/casp.70127
Reflections on impact: Are we helping or hurting?
A question that can keep returning to is: Are we really helping? If so, how? On the surface, volunteering may seem beneficial. But as some critics argue, the real impact of short-term helpers is often negligible without local continuity and deep cultural understanding. Many volunteering narratives assume a direct line between good intentions and positive outcomes, yet the relationship between effort and effect is far more complex. It is easy to assume that being physically present and offering help is always beneficial, yet this assumption does not always hold true. In some cases, volunteer involvement may have limited impact or even unintended consequences, particularly if it replaces paid local work or diverts resources away from long-term initiatives. As highlighted in critiques of volunteering models, the money spent on travel and accommodation for volunteers could sometimes be more effectively used by directly funding local organisations or staff (Worldly Adventurer). This raised uncomfortable but necessary questions for me: Was our presence responding to real needs identified by the community, or was it shaped more by my desire to help? Ethical volunteering requires constant reflection not only on intentions, but on outcomes, who benefits, how, and whether the support offered is truly what is needed.
Second Tree
is a volunteer-founded organisation working primarily in the camps and nearby accommodation sites, focusing on education, language learning, and community-building.
BAAS (Be Aware and Share)
operates a community center in Ioannina that offers educational, psychosocial, and community-based activities for refugees and local residents.
The Youth Center of Epirus (YCE)
contributes to the integration of asylum seekers by operating local and regional projects that provide accommodation, integration support, healthcare, education, and other essential services in the Epirus region. A key part of this work is carried out through international volunteering, with volunteers responsible for facilitating non-formal activities for young asylum seekers.
Information Assistance Centre (IAC) / KEAN
Co-funded by UNHCR and implemented with local partners, the IAC functions as a key access point for refugees and asylum seekers seeking information on documentation, public services, and local integration pathways, linking municipal structures with individual needs.
Habibi.works
uses sport and recreational activities as tools for empowerment and social inclusion, creating informal spaces near Katsikas camp.
Voluntourism and the ego of helping
This brings to another limitation: what some call voluntourism. This term describes a style of volunteering that overlaps significantly with tourism, usually short stays in another country framed as both service and adventure. Some volunteers only stay for a few weeks. In such cases, there is a risk of reinforcing a “saviour complex” where volunteers focus more on their own experience than on supporting sustainable community outcomes. Critics argue that such approaches risk turning complex social issues into short-term experiences that serve the volunteer more than those affected (Worldly Adventurer).In refugee contexts, this can manifest through the focus on volunteer stories, photographs, and personal growth narratives, rather than the voices and agency of refugees themselves. Reflecting on this necessitates more care. Sometimes, the most ethical response may involve stepping back, supporting local leadership, or questioning whether one’s presence is necessary at all.Although this project focuses on the experiences of volunteers, it is important to clarify that the intention is not to place them on a pedestal. Rather, the aim is to make space for their voices, recognising that they are part of a broader ecosystem of actors in the refugee field. These voices are neither more nor less important than others, and must be approached with humility, particularly given the existing power imbalances between volunteers, local actors, and people on the move themselves.
This project is built from the voices of volunteers who shared their experiences in the refugee sector in Ioannina, through written reflections, forms, and publicly shared personal stories. It brings together 12 written survey responses and longer personal testimonies, reflecting a diversity of perspectives and journeys. The age range is from 21 to 46, with varied educational and professional backgrounds, and different levels of prior humanitarian experience. Most of them were volunteering with people on the move either in community centres, camps and/or in facilities for unaccompanied minors. Some volunteered for a few weeks, others for several months. What connects them is not a single organization or pathway, but the shared experience of stepping into this field and navigating its emotional, practical, and ethical realities. These testimonies were approached as conversations rather than data, and treated with care, respect, and gratitude.
UNHCR (United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees)
provides strategic guidance and operational support in Ioannina, recognising municipal inclusion efforts and supporting coordination among local authorities, civil society, and refugee communities to improve access to services and participation.
Municipality of Ioannina
The Municipality plays a coordinating role in refugee inclusion through local policy initiatives, public events, and participation in European migration dialogues. Its actions signal an institutional effort to frame refugees as part of the city’s social and cultural life.
International Centre for Sustainable Development (ICSD)
coordinates some volunteering projects and activities that support refugee inclusion and community development. Its activities focus on economic and social development, entrepreneurship, reducing inequalities, supporting vulnerable groups, and promoting cultural and natural resources.
Working in a space of privilege and vulnerability
Volunteering in the refugee field also means operating in a space shaped by unequal power dynamics. We can become aware that our ability to volunteer was tied to privilege : having the time, financial means, and freedom to travel and work without or with little pay. As The Philanthropist (2022) argues, volunteering is not equally accessible and is often dominated by those who are already relatively secure. In contrast, refugees are positioned in situations of extreme vulnerability, marked by uncertainty, trauma, and limited agency. This contrast can unintentionally reinforce a hierarchy between volunteers and refugees, where volunteers are seen as “helpers” and refugees as passive recipients of aid. Without careful reflection, such dynamics risk reproducing the very inequalities that humanitarian work seeks to challenge. Recognising this imbalance forced some of us to reconsider how we interacted with people, and whether our actions were rooted in solidarity or unconsciously shaped by privilege.
Timing: being present temporarily in a long-term crisis
One of the first limitations some noticed relates to timing. Many volunteers, myself included, enter the refugee field for a relatively short period of time, while the realities of displacement, asylum procedures, and integration are long-term and ongoing. While we may arrive with energy and commitment, sustainability is a much slower process than our weeks or even months on the ground allow. This creates an imbalance between the duration of volunteer involvement and the continuity that refugee communities actually need. Short-term volunteers may bring motivation and energy, but they often leave just as they are beginning to understand the complexity of the context. Volunteers often rotate in and out, leaving gaps that communities must adjust to repeatedly, which raises the question: Are we offering continuity, or just temporary support? As critiques of international volunteering point out, constant turnover can place an additional burden on organisations that must repeatedly train new volunteers rather than focusing on sustainable solutions (Worldly Adventurer).