Would you buy me a coffee?

Last September, I hit a wall. A decade in profit-driven corporate tech jobs had left me feeling… empty. I know it sounds cliché, but I truly craved work that mattered, something bigger than just my boss’s bottom line. So, I quit and started looking for a way to do some good in the world, specifically in the humanitarian sector.

Finding a job without prior experience in such a competitive field was tough. I decided to try volunteering and, almost on a whim, applied to a small NGO in Greece called Second Tree. Honestly, I didn’t expect to hear back.

But then came the email for an interview. Wow. That first call was unlike anything I’d ever experienced. We didn’t talk about my resume, my skills, or typical job interview stuff. Instead, they threw out complicated, real-life scenarios involving refugees and asked what I would do. Believe me, it was harder than it sounds, and it immediately piqued my interest. The second interview was even more surprising – we discussed why you shouldn’t thank people for feedback. I actually thought, “What the heck?” and almost walked away.

Then the offer arrived, delivered in the most unusual email: a truly long, honest, and almost painfully transparent breakdown of my interviews and their expectations. No employer had ever put that much effort into telling me what they really thought. That level of honesty hooked me. I took the leap and flew to Greece.

And so, my incredible journey began. I found myself:

• Working with a team of about 20 people from all around the world, almost all younger than me.
• Living in a shared house with 9 other amazing individuals.
• Pushing myself to work with a level of dedication and high standards I’d never encountered before.
• Practicing trust, honesty, and transparency to a degree that was, at times, challenging but profoundly rewarding.
• Getting to work closely with refugees from a truly novel perspective – seeing them as people, neither victims nor heroes, just individuals like you and me.
• Speaking my own language in a foreign land, connecting with people I’d always wanted to understand better from Iran, but never had the chance.
• Sharing laughter and stories over communal dinners in Dodi’s house, cooked by whoever was on the rota.
• Learning to openly share my feelings, both good and bad (our “highs and lows”) in team meetings, which felt incredibly weird at first.
• Having deep, engaging conversations with these “strangers” who quickly became like family.
• Even planning fun activities for our days off – because, surprisingly, weekends weren’t the days off; we could plan them whenever we felt we needed a break.

I eventually had to leave Greece after three months, but I’m still actively working with Second Tree, and here’s why: I fundamentally believe in what they do, in what we do. In the often chaotic world of humanitarian aid, where the constant chase for the next project and funding can overshadow everything, Second Tree truly makes a difference. We run English classes, organize excursions, and deliver self-advocacy training for refugees. We also offer international training based on our unique insights. Trust me, we’re good at what we do, and the most compelling proof is the trust refugees place in us; I saw it firsthand.

Now, with World Refugee Day approaching, we’ve launched a fundraising campaign, and I’m personally asking for your help. Please help this vital work continue. Second Tree relies heavily on these smaller donations from our personal networks. Whether you think of it as buying me a coffee, giving me a gift, or simply helping a young refugee learn English (imagine how our own lives would be without it!), your contribution means the world to me.

Thank you!