Fragment of a fieldnote vignette , Garland 2022
In April 2022, I returned to Calais after six years since my last visit, driven by a desire to revisit the site of the Dzjangal settlement, more commonly known as The Jungle of Calais. Initially, I too referred to it as such, echoing the terminology used by locals, volunteers, and some residents. However, during this return trip, my understanding deepened as I explored new settlements in Calais. I learned that "The Jungle" is a phonetic interpretation of "Dzjangal," meaning forest or jungle, without the connotations of ‘wildness’ or exoticism imposed by Western perceptions. 

Retracing my steps from my first visit back in 2016, I walked for over 45 minutes along the familiar route. Once again, I passed by factories and abandoned structures that had captured my attention previously. Upon reaching the former settlement's entrance, I found myself beneath the imposing structure known as the "great wall of Calais," a term coined by volunteers and activists to describe the long lattice wall spanning the city's roads. This wall  was built, in 2016-2017,in order not to be a passageway for people-in-transit attempting to reach England by boarding trucks bound for the Eurotunnel. Beneath the road, remnants of graffiti from The Dzjangal time still adorned the walls, bearing messages like "Free Syria," "The Jungle Is Alive," and "no person is illegal."

     
Standing before the grounds once occupied by The Dzjangal, I was overcome with a sense of silence and absence. This area is now designated as the "Observatoire de la Lande," ostensibly a sanctuary for the wetland's flora and fauna. However, this designation served as the official pretext for the violent eviction of the settlement in October 2016, disregarding human rights and refugee protocols. From the bird observatory, I observed the tranquility of the wetland amidst the backdrop of road noise and the imposing wall in the distance. A nearby sign provided information about the natural observatory and the former The Dzjangal place, referred to officially as "Le Lande de Calais." Titled "Travaux de renaturation des terrains de l'ex-Lande de Calais" (Renaturation works of the former Land of Calais), the sign invoked thoughts of the French (and English) government's attempts to erase the memory of contemporary migration at the border.

In response to this sign, I felt compelled to undertake an art action to evoke the presence of The Dzjangal's existence. It stands as a symbol of migratory narratives, overlooked and marginalized by Eurocentric narratives. The Dzjangal must be remembered as an act of resistance against the prevailing border regimes of our time, a monument to the enduring spirit of those who defy oppression, and not as a landscape that has been renaturalized.