France: Hard wait for refugees at Grande Synthe camp

Huddled in small tents and under tarps, an estimated 2,000 men, women and children continue to wait in an unofficial camp in Grande Synthe, near Dunkirk. Heavy rains have turned the ground muddy, and the nights are freezing cold.

Lizman, from the northern Iraq's semiautonomous Kurdish region, is headed to Britain. "War is my home," he says. In a tiny shed, he has set up a "cafe" of sorts, a place for the camp's teenagers to hang around while they, too, wait.

Asis borrowed a hammer to help him safeguard the tent against filth and the cold. The young man plans to head to Britain, where he says "things just have to be better." He would have to pay a smuggler up to 5,000 euros ($5,500) for passage across the English Channel.

No one knows how many children live in the camp. Aid workers collect stuffed animals and, from time to time, they offer the toys at a designated children's tent.

A child must have lost this doll, now encrusted with mud. Many hopes are dashed in this camp, where it is bitterly cold at night, and dark as there are no lights. Residents must make do with a few portable toilets and shower stalls.

Once stationed in Iraq with the United Kingdom's Royal Air Force, Chris Bailey now helps refugees headed for his native Britain, handing out donated blankets and rubber boots. "The conditions here are worse than a lot of what I saw during the war," the veteran says.

Denise (left) and Maryse have a kind word and tea for the refugees. They live in the neat single-family home across the street - it is after all simply a street that separates two worlds. "The authorities aren't looking after them," Denise says. Other neighbors would rather see the refugees run off.

A volunteer has named the muddy paths after European politicians: Avenue Francois Hollande, for instance, because the French government hasn't taken charge of the unofficial camps. The police don't enter - not even when there are reports of violence.

Fewer refugees have been arriving in Munich, so Sinan von Stietencron from the VolxKüche München packed up his mobile-kitchen catering service and moved on to France, simple as that. "We're needed here," he says.

Volunteers from Doctors without Borders (MSF) offer flu and measles vaccinations. As a result of camp conditions, especially the damp cold and a lack of cleaning resources, children in particular have been falling ill. France's government has not taken responsibility, so MSF is building a new emergency site at Grande Synthe - the group's first such operation in the heart of the European Union.

Asim, who says he fled the "Islamic State" in Iraq, cowers in his refuge. He has created a small but clean space for himself and offers DW reporter Catherine Martens tea. "Everyone is eager to move on," he says.

The port of Dunkirk is only about 10 kilometers (6 miles) from the settlement, but the chances of reaching Britain are slim. Few refugees want to request asylum in France. Their options are to pay a smuggler to take them across, head to Belgium or Germany, or to do what so many have continued to do: wait.