3 Islands – 2 Dedicated Women – 1 Van

Everything started in Albania 2024

Almost a year ago, I met Claude in Albania at an Empowerment Self Defense (ESD) seminar. Little did we know that we would set out together on our very first EmpowerVan Tour in July 2025. The best decision that I have ever made.

Claude and I are not only Empowerment Self Defense Instructors, but we are both united by our beliefs in Gender Justice and our commitment to advocating for Human Rights. My own path in the Humanitarian Sector began years ago on the Greek island of Samos, until the pandemic involuntarily brought me back to Austria. Claude, on the other hand, founded EmpowerVan and decided to pour her energy into building something new there.  

Even while in Austria, my thoughts were always elsewhere. So when I finally met someone who shared the same values, the same drive, and the same stubborn hope for change, it felt only natural to join forces. Bundling our skills and knowledge in Empowerment Self Defense wasn’t just an idea—it was the next step. From there, the idea for this tour began to take shape. 

This blog is a snapshot, highlighting some of our experiences from the tour.

July and August 2025

Kos

I’m sitting on a plane bound for Kos, where Claude and her van are already waiting for me . It’s our first reunion since the seminar in Albania. My mind is racing: 

How will it be to live together for three weeks, spending almost twenty-four seven together, in such a tiny space? 

How will it be to teach side by side?

All those questions dissolve the moment we meet in a little Café on the Greek Island of Kos, as we order a freddo espresso – a taste that feels like home – and dive straight into planning the class. A ritual which happens to accompany us for the rest of the tour. In excitement, as we plan our class, we stand up, move around and play out different possibilities to organize our students. Only when the owner of the Cafe asks us what kind of martial art we’re teaching, we realize how deeply absorbed we’ve been, forgetting completely that we are, in fact, sitting in a Cafe.

Time flies and we have to quickly head to the Community Center “The Hub” from Glocal Roots, where we teach our very first workshop.. Turns out, no-one is showing up. The heatwave is hitting hard, making it unbearable. In addition, the lack of reliable transport from the camp to the town makes it impossible for most women to come to our class. That too is part of our work: preparing each class with dedication, even knowing that we may not be able to teach at all.

The photographer and journalist who accompany us for the first few days wonder why we do not simply go into the camp. Well, it’s not that simple. We explain that most NGOs are not permitted to enter the camps anymore, nor are we welcomed by authorities around the camps. Doing so, without previously assessing the local situation, could jeopardize our work. Our goal is to combat gender-based violence, by creating a safe space for our students to teach successfully. This is quite difficult in or near the camp, where basic human rights continue to be neglected and undermined.. That’s why we collaborate with  community centers and shelters to implement our programs: places that already provide safety and familiarity for displaced people.

When it becomes clear that no one will be joining us today, we spontaneously offer a basic ESD class  for the volunteers at the hub. So our first day – not teaching women and girls on the move, but volunteers and aid workers – still turns out to be a success. 

Samos

Coming back to this island brings up a mix of emotions. I left a piece of my heart in this place years ago, and maybe that’s why it strangely feels like coming home again. So much has changed, while so much has stayed the same. 

Our first seminar here is with a group of unaccompanied minor boys living in a shelter. We believe deeply that they, too, need to be empowered,  learn self-defense and de-escalation techniques. We are excited, because for both of us it’s the first time teaching only to boys. We’re welcomed by an incredibly open-hearted group. The icebreaker games we had prepared? Not needed. 

We are surprised by how much the boys already know, by how aware/ reflected they are, and how quickly they open up and trust us. 

The next day, it’s the girls’ turn. Euphoric from the previous day, we arrive full of anticipation – only to find that none of them show up. They stay in their rooms, refusing to join us.

So we wait. We give them time. We show them that we are here, that we’ll stay until they’re ready. Slowly, cautiously, they peek out: curious, annoyed, shy, suspicious. Who are these women? Can we trust them?

These young people have experienced more trauma than many will in a lifetime. Mistrust is their constant companion, their survival mechanism. Getting screened by them seems legitimate and understandable. 

Would I, in their place, open up to strangers? Probably not. 

So we wait. We stay. We endure the silence. We put on some music, ask for their favorite songs, add them to the playlist and together, listen patiently. 

Music always connects. And slowly, slowly, one of the girls asks what we actually do. And there it begins.

Eventually, curiosity wins. The workshop unfolds – different energy, different vibe, but equally powerful. No class is ever the same.

Two intense days later, we leave the shelter exhausted but extremely happy and grateful – grateful for their trust, for their stories, for the way they claimed the safe space we tried to create. I’m deeply impressed by their resilience, the strength each of them has within them. Reminding me how much I love teaching. Reminding me of what a privilege it is to do this work.

Lesvos

New island, new shelters, new energy. By now - on our third stop of the EmpowerVan tour -, we are  a well-rehearsed team. Usually, translators are provided – essential for our trauma sensitive approach. One day though, unexpectedly, we’re left without one. And I’m in awe as Claude steps up: switching between German with me to improvise some exercises, English for the class, and French and Greek for the rest of the group. Improvised, seamless, and brilliant. I was impressed by the team we have become and by how we all worked together—as instructors and participants, as a group. 

I often get asked what my favourite moments are and it’s always hard for me to answer because no class, no workshop is ever the same.  But there are these tiny, yet enormous moments in every workshop that make this work so beautiful.

What would you like to break through?
One of my favorite parts of the workshops is the board-breaking exercise. 

Before breaking the wooden boards with the students, we always give them a moment to think about what they want to break through. First, the disbelief on their faces. Then the strike – seeing their shocked and surprised faces when they realize that they just broke a wooden board. Seeing their faces change, as disbelief melts into joy and shock into pride. A simple piece of wood, broken into two. The wood was never the real obstacle. 

What shattered wasn’t just the board, but a belief that had held them back for years. And in that moment, something shifted. They stood taller. Stronger. More certain.

Which leads me directly to my second most favourite part: seeing them grow in confidence during our workshops. Confident and empowered, to handle situations differently. Confident and empowered, knowing that they already carry the strength within them. Confident and empowered, that it was never their fault. Empowered, even if it is just for a moment. 

After a week of teaching on Lesvos, I sit on the beach, watching the ferry – and with it Claude – disappear slowly into the horizon. From the other side, a Frontex coast guard ship appears, returning from its morning shift. And it’s this simultaneity which is still hard to bear. So many people come here to work to support those on the move, seeking safety – and so many others doing the opposite: preventing them, illegally pushing them back, denying their human rights.

The situation on the islands remains dire — hopeless, inhumane. And yet, being able to do something meaningful, however small, makes it a little more bearable.

Reflecting on  this first EmpowerVan tour, I carry both gratitude and awareness with me. I know I cannot change these systems. But I can have a positive impact on the people right in front of me — on each participant who joins us. I can create moments of strength, of connection, of hope. And remembering what a privilege it truly is to be able to do that.

Written by Tatjana Brandner