In the middle of the Pacific Ocean lies the tiny, remote island of Nauru, which has come under scrutiny recently by the media and human rights groups. The Australian government, which provides direct aid to Nauru, uses the island to hold asylum seekers who have traveled to Australia by boat.

Imagine a health center that is open, stocked with vaccines and fully staffed, in a region where measles is known to be endemic. But only three children are vaccinated every month. Would you then conclude that measles is not a big problem? Would you accept the job as done?

Tucked away in the graffitied center of Athens is a soothing example of 1920s architecture. High ceilings and arched doorways lead to a stone-walled patio. The feeling inside is fresh on a sweaty day in Greece, with a breeze winding through tall, paneled windows. But it is the life inside, the laughter and chatter, that makes this a truly calming place.

Here was yet another family flung across the sea from Syria sitting in an air-conditioned, yet still stuffy, container that is their temporary home on the island of Samos in Greece. With so many of them having made it to the country together, the Al-Ghateb family stood out from the hundreds of single men and mothers with children at the camp.

“My friend, my friend!” Two little Syrian girls come running toward me as they see the camera around my neck. These two words are part of their limited English vocabulary, a language they are being taught in school at the Vathi refugee center—known as a “hot spot”—on the island of Samos in Greece.

In the confines of their home in Boston, the Bandukwalas decided that their 8-year-old would not undergo khatna, the name given to the practice of female genital mutilation by their community of Dawoodi Bohras. While hardly dinner conversation, the topic was in the air all evening. Finally, the couple agreed not to do it.