Repost from @alexwierzbowska • A few months ago, I didn't know where this year was heading. The roads were meandering wildly, coming to a dead end. I went to war for the first time. In a focused, task-oriented attitude, one night happened during which I suddenly woke up. The darkness cut by a streak of light sneaking under the door trembled in silence. And I trembled with it. I felt that they are coming for me. That they are coming. In the morning, we drove further into the depths of torn Ukraine. I do not know if this experience has changed me. I think it grounded me. As I cycled through the Balkans in 2015 between refugees sleeping in border ditches, I felt powerless. The trail of discarded clothes was evidence - this is where we walked. We existed. Five years later, engaging with NGOs in Iceland, I met people from that migrant wave. Some of them were still on the move. As I listened to their stories, learnt their names, saw pictures of their families, the abstract experience became tangible. This is not '1.5 million refugees'. It's Ali, whose smile stays in the memory for a lifetime and who hasn't seen his parents for 7 years. It's the power of storytelling. That's why I decided I will pack my camera and travel to Pakistan to bring the stories of those facing a humanitarian crisis on an unimaginable scale caused directly by climate change. Today, their homes are drowning. Tomorrow it could be ours. 11 days to go. [wersja PL w komentarzach] ____ Supported by @thinktankphoto @foto_technika