THE Greek island of Samos is a choice holiday destination for many seeking sun, sand, and relaxation. But there’s another side to the island of Samos that you probably won’t see if you’re there as a holiday maker.

Hidden away, a sterile collection of white prefabs, surrounded by high metal fences and twisted barbed wire, marks the landscape. For several months now, these prefabs have become home to more than 1,000 refugees mainly from Syria, Iraq and Afghanistan, arriving in Europe with hopes and dreams of a better life away from war, desperation and hopelessness.

I travelled to Greece as part of an all-women’s delegation from CTBI (Churches Together in Britain and Ireland) which also included a representative from the Church of Scotland. On our arrival at the locked gates to the refugee centre on Samos, children spilled out through the holes in the fences, many frantically blowing plastic whistles, pulling on our sleeves and repeating the few English words they knew. Desperate to be heard and helped, people spoke of the lack of medical care, proper food and healthcare available within the centre.

As news reached us that the Greek authorities had started clearing the refugee camp in Idomeni, on the Greece-Macedonia border, the overwhelming and ever-changing chaos of the crisis in Greece became starkly apparent.

We travelled to the Greek mainland to visit an informal camp that has emerged at the side of a road next to a petrol station between Thessaloniki and the border. Since March, it has become a sprawling informal camp to more than 1,200 people. Bottles of water were laid out to warm in the sun as showers only offered cold water. The business-minded have even set up small food stalls and barbers – a sign that ordinary life, of sorts, must somehow go on. As we wandered through the maze of tents, we were welcomed into people's "homes". Over coffee, people told us stories of the journeys they have made and of livelihoods that have been lost.

I met Fatima and Abdul, and their four children, from the besieged city of Qudsaya in Syria, outside a soup kitchen in Thessaloniki. Fatima told me how her family arrived in Greece via Turkey. During their two-month-long journey they have been imprisoned for not having the right paperwork as refugees, and they have been robbed of most of their money. Yet despite this, at every stop, Fatima also told me that Greek people had offered the family a bed or a section of floor in their restaurants or homes.

Amidst all of the uncertainty and waiting, Fatima believes that her family may soon be on their way to a place of sanctuary. “We have an interview next week for relocation. We don't care what country in Europe we get sent to, as long as we are safe.”

Fatima and Abdul are hopeful, but the process of applying for relocation is painfully slow. Without the infrastructure and resources in place that the Greek authorities require to respond to a crisis that has overwhelmed the country (already battling a severe financial crisis), there are fears that the situation will only worsen.

Many of the 50,000-plus refugees who are stranded in Greece wish to seek asylum in Western Europe. But with borders now closed, they must currently make their application in Greece. Asylum interviews are commonly held via Skype, and people spoke of waiting weeks to make an application, with information on the process scarce and unclear.

According to the Greek Government, the European Union promised 2,300 officials to help with the operation, but recent press reports say that few have yet arrived. As a result, access to legal support is a growing issue. There are fears that many of those who are currently stranded will eventually run out of money, grow increasingly desperate, and lose faith in the official asylum system. NGOs operating in Greece fear that those who will increasingly benefit will be the people-smugglers and the traffickers.

Travelling to Greece and seeing the work of church and Christian Aid partners who are responding practically and with compassion, made me feel proud. But experiencing the despair of the people we met and the chaos of the situation also made me feel a greater sense of responsibility. In Scotland we have welcomed well over a third of the 1,602 Syrian refugees who have been re-settled in the UK in recent months. Yet still it feels as though our sense of collective responsibility is not great enough to meet the need.

I sat in the "homes" of refugees who, despite having next to nothing, warmly welcomed me with coffee and an invitation to share in their stories. Let us now extend that same humanity to those who need our help and protection.

Christian Aid is currently working in Greece and Serbia through ACT Alliance. Our partners are providing essential humanitarian support, as well as legal protection services to unaccompanied children in Greece. In addition, we are calling on the UK government to take a fair and proportionate share of refugees, and to provide safe and legal routes for refugees to travel to and through Europe.

Ahead of the UN High Level Meeting on Refugees and Migrants on September 19, Christian Aid is launching a campaign to "Change the Story". We want to help challenge and change the negative rhetoric around refugees, and instead celebrate the positive and life-affirming contributions that refugees make in our communities and society. In July we’ll be asking you to help us to change the story with us.

CTBI (Churches Together in Britain and Ireland) travelled to Greece with a group of twelve ordained and lay women from a variety of denominations (including the Church of Scotland) to witness the refugee crisis in Greece, to meet with those fleeing conflict, and to better understand how the church can respond practically and with compassion to the humanitarian crisis we face.