GREECE’S migrant crisis is getting worse. Macedonia has closed its border to all but a trickle of migrants, following the example of Austria and other countries along the so-called West Balkans route to Germany. Yet desperate Syrians and Iraqis continue to arrive at the Idomeni crossing point. On February 29th Macedonian police used tear gas against scores of migrants trying to break down the border fence. As The Economist went to press, more than 12,000 people were crammed into a tent camp with facilities for only 1,500. Food is in short supply. “It’s a tense situation,” says Panagiota Siafaka, a social worker with the UN High Commission for Refugees.

So long as the border remained open, Greece could manage the flow of arrivals from Turkey. Now almost 30,000 migrants are bottled up in Greece. Nikos Kotzias, the foreign minister, expects the number to reach 150,000; local aid agencies worry that 200,000 people may arrive in March alone. Reception centres around Athens for migrants are hopelessly overcrowded. Half a dozen new ones, mostly refurbished former military camps, are quickly filling up. Local and international charities provide food and medical care. “The state seems absent, but luckily ordinary people are here every day to help,” says Mariana, a paediatrician working at Piraeus port, gesturing towards a group of elderly Greek women handing out bananas and chocolate bars to harassed mothers in headscarves.

Things will improve, if only gradually. Greece expects to receive a large chunk of the EU’s new €700m ($760m), three-year humanitarian aid package for countries that host a lot of migrants. Of that, €300m would be spent this year. Athens-based aid agencies hope that funds will bypass the slow-moving Greek bureaucracy, going straight to needy migrants in the form of vouchers for food and housing.