Credit: Yana Zalesskaya. All rights reserved.I live in Germany now. I have a bicycle, an address and everything, and
\nsome wonderful neighbours. We talk in English and they teach me German words.
\nOn my first day here, my uncle, a German citizen, said to me, \u201clook after this
\nsociety, it will look after you in return\u201d. He also said, \u201cthere is justice,
\nyou will take what it is rightfully yours, despite all the bureaucratic crap\u201d.<\/i><\/p>\n
He said these things while we were walking downtown in the city of
\nOldenburg for the first time, shopping for clothes, a few hours after I
\narrived. Right after I said to him, \u201cI feel that this might be a dream and I
\nwill wake up any time now and everything will be gone\u201d. He patted me on the
\nback, smiled and said: \u201cIt\u2019s not, you\u2019re here\u201d.<\/p>\n
Even now, thinking about it, it takes me back to how suddenly it all
\ncame to be. One single decision to leave, leaving everything behind but faith
\nin Allah and the love of family. I took my backpack, kissed my parents\u2019 hands
\nand left Cairo where I was temporarily staying, once and for all. Only Allah
\nand some friends know what happened after that.<\/p>\n
In the last three years, since the war in Syria started, more than
\n31,000 Syrian immigrants entered Europe according to Frontex; enduring hardship
\nand facing death, in search of a better life after giving up on our so-called
\n\u2018Arab World\u2019. I think you can\u2019t ask, \u201cwhy Europe?\u201d It\u2019s an illogical question
\nto a Syrian these days; or almost any other immigrant for that matter. There is
\neverything you might want in Europe and you are taken care of, thanks to the
\nasylum-seeking policy. It\u2019s that simple.<\/p>\n
For us, Europe is like this gorgeous girl, who is way out of your league.
\nAs an outsider, you don\u2019t get close because you know you\u2019ll be rejected.
\nSuddenly a twist and that girl is yours. For the most part, she likes you for
\nwho you are and doesn\u2019t mind where you come from. For the most part.<\/p>\n
Being Syrian, doors are open for you in Europe and Europe is the only
\nplace where being Syrian actually helps. Your Syrian ID is the most valuable
\nthing you have. You simply can\u2019t be rejected. I interacted with way too many
\npeople on my journey, Syrians on their way to a better life. People on their
\nown, families with babies barely a few months old\u2026 That\u2019s the way you learn how
\nthings work, how you comprehend human trading \u2013 in every sense of the term \u2013 at
\nthe start point (Arab countries) and also the humanity that enfolds you at the
\nfinish line (European countries).<\/p>\n
Almost everyone at some point, on the way, says, \u201cIt is not worth it\u201d.
\nGod only knows the things they go through. I was one of those people, although
\nnow I know it\u2019s worth it after you arrive. I remember so clearly when an Italian
\npoliceman told me, in broken English, \u201cYou are Syrian, you are free to go
\nwherever you want\u201d.<\/p>\n
A phrase like that stays with you. It felt like the only thing worth
\nhearing, it was what I needed despite my everlasting conflict with the word
\n\u2018need\u2019. Life became substantive and imaginary at the same time, in the same
\nflow and at the expense of the despair I thought would never leave. Indeed it
\nleft me at that moment. The word \u2018free\u2019 can be magical. I\u2019m not special, it\u2019s
\nmagical for everyone.<\/p>\n
Trying to recall my journey and writing about it, is taking an
\nincredible amount of time and effort. I start writing and then thirty minutes
\nlater I find myself having written a couple of lines and lost deep in my
\nthoughts. I remember all the people I met, all the things I did, the pictures I
\ntook and were taken of me \u2013 yes, at some point it\u2019s like tourism \u2013 what I ate,
\nwhat I was wearing. Literally everything. It\u2019s so strange to just share it. To
\nshape feelings into words to describe this journey. Deep down you know you will
\nnever be able to do it justice.<\/p>\n
\u201cI
\ntook my backpack, kissed my parents\u2019 hands and left Cairo\u201d<\/i><\/p>\n
I met people that had an impact on my life to this day, that will stay
\nwith me. Some stuck around through the journey. Inside them, I recognized a
\nsimilarity between us, in the struggle and the desire to belong.<\/p>\n
Some just passed through, but with impact. From the moment I met them I
\nsaw in them understanding, first and foremost. Until the very last moment, when
\nthe train was taking off, they didn\u2019t leave me and my friends. Greta, an
\nItalian friend who did everything she could to help me and my friends continue
\nour journey and reach our destination, was crying the moment the train was
\nleaving Milan. Greta Ramelli and Vanessa Marzullo are humanitarians, two fighters
\nfor the Syrian cause and also my friends,\u00a0who are now held captive in Syria\u00a0after
\nthey went out in Allepo to help in any way they could, despite our efforts to
\ntalk them out of it\u2026<\/p>\n
It has been months now. I\u2019ve been told that the Italian Government is
\ndoing its best and is hopeful, but nothing has happened concerning their
\nrelease yet. They once told me that they feel that Syria is their home; \u201cSyria
\nis no home for anyone anymore\u201d was my reply. It was such a cruel thing to say.
\nI don\u2019t regret it but I do wish I could take it back.<\/p>\n
You meet people for the very first time and you stay with them for a little
\nwhile. You feel so close to them, like you\u2019ve known them from a long time ago.
\nThey help you unconditionally. You try and drink it all in, everything, the
\nexperience of it all. Then you leave, in the knowledge you will never forget.<\/p>\n
Italy was (and still is) quite poor, but beautiful. Actually, incredibly
\nbeautiful, romantic, vast and old. A lady of origins and style. You can feel
\nthe struggle and its sweet taste. Between mountains and at the end of the sea,
\nas I like to call it; on the shores and beyond; unlike all that follows. There,
\na group of people are given new life. It\u2019s the absolute truth. I feel, with
\nunshakeable belief, that like hundreds of thousands of Syrians before me, Italy
\nis the place I was re-born \u2013 despite the way we got there.<\/p>\n
\u201c\u2026since
\nthe war in Syria started, more than 31,000 Syrian immigrants entered Europe\u201d<\/i><\/p>\n
If you heard the stories about the death trips from Egypt and Libya and
\nthe on foot border-crossings in Hungary and Serbia\u2026 If you could witness
\npeople\u2019s faces and expressions when they talk about their experiences, if you
\ncould touch their reality a little bit, the reality of the Syrians\u2026 You might
\nconsequently know what the Italians are for most of them \u2013 the Italian marines
\nin particular.<\/p>\n
While I\u2019ll never be able to do them justice, I don\u2019t just want to go on
\nsaying how great and noble they are either. Maybe it\u2019s best to just say what
\nreally happens out there: They pick you up, literally, with their own hands,
\nsave you, give you shelter. They feed and treat you in the best way possible.
\nThey give you the honour of the first step to Europe, and that\u2019s in their own
\ncountry. They try to persuade you to stay in Italy; they tell you how beautiful
\nit is and also how poor it is, and of course, that the choice is yours in the end.
\nWhen you say no, they show you the way to go, to wherever you want. That is the
\npoint when you take matters into your own hands. You choose a country and try
\nto figure out how to get there.<\/p>\n
After all the plans and dreams flew far away and left me hollow in
\nSyria, there I was, in Cosenza, walking towards a life, more alive than ever.
\nIt was a feeling that rounded on all the loss of the past few days, days that
\ninduced such feeling of powerlessness, thoughts like \u201cI might survive all of
\nthis but it\u2019s very unlikely\u201d. Powerlessness that until this day keeps me awake
\nat night.<\/p>\n
Entranced by everything around me, what my uncle said sank into my head.
\nIt\u2019s true, but I still have some difficulty accepting that it\u2019s true. You see,
\nwhere I come from, literally everything is possible; show some money and you
\ncan put a tiara over your head. But Germany is order, the land of opportunity.
\nA destination sitting in the second place right after the US, for immigrants
\nfrom all over the world. I chose Germany, although for most people it is the
\nGerman asylum policy that\u2019s attractive.<\/p>\n
The country that was once called \u201cThe Land of Poets and Thinkers\u201d
\nstruggles to defeat the racism that it\u2019s wrongfully associated with, as if all
\nthe other countries in the world are shielded by a dome of goodness. My answer
\nis always the same: Never generalize. I think the stereotype has stuck,
\neverybody says Germans are cold and racist. It\u2019s word for word what people have
\nsaid to me. But I humbly ask to be the witness to testify that it\u2019s all just
\nuntrue. I can\u2019t stress that enough.<\/p>\n
\u201cYour
\nSyrian ID is the most valuable thing you have.\u201d<\/i><\/p>\n
The German government does literally everything \u2013 within reason
\n\u2013 it can for us, the Syrians who chose to come here. You are taken care of in
\nevery way and in every aspect. Firstly you apply for asylum, they give you a
\nplace to stay with other refugees, they give you papers; the process begins, it
\ndoes take time and that is the downside of living in Germany. All legal
\ntransactions are complicated and take time, you have no idea, everybody
\nstruggles with that.<\/p>\n
After some time you conduct your first interview and get
\ntemporary residency, which allows you to move only in the district that you
\napply in. Then comes the long wait for transfer, which determines in which city
\nor town you are going to stay until you are given the official three years
\nresidency. That official residency is what everybody talks about until they
\nhave it. Once you have it, you are set: you can study, work, travel and move to
\nanother city if you want to. After the official residency you\u2019re entitled to
\nlook for a place on a certain budget, a place with a mailbox and an address, a
\nplace to call your own once again.<\/p>\n
\u201cThe
\nhorrific things we went through from the start in Syria until we reached Europe\u2026
\nNever try to explain it to people because nobody would actually know\u201d<\/i><\/p>\n
I want to say, because it worries me, to myself and to everyone
\nwho dreamed of Europe and of life there, and who had the chance to escape from
\nterrible events\u2026 The horrific things we went through from the start in Syria
\nuntil we reached Europe\u2026 Never try to explain it to people because nobody would
\nactually know; it will only make you stronger, maybe indestructible even, and
\nmost of all more\u00a0understanding towards things.<\/p>\n
I live in Germany now. I have a bicycle, an address and
\neverything. I have made it. I arrived. A new beginning for what seemed to be
\ngoing downwards, towards an ending. I am quite well here, with so much to be
\nthankful for. You never forget, but you choose not to remember. I know that a
\nlot of Syrians who share my situation might disagree with a lot of what I said
\nhere. If my experience in Europe is somewhat good, it doesn\u2019t mean it\u2019s the
\nsame for everyone. I know that, but I still have a lot to be thankful for.<\/p>\n
Originally Credit: Yana Zalesskaya. All rights reserved.I live in Germany now. I have a bicycle, an address and everything, and some wonderful neighbours. We talk in English and they teach me German words. On my first day here, my uncle, a German citizen, said to me, \u201clook after this society, it will look after you in…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[3],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-1337","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-news"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/googmn.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1337","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/googmn.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/googmn.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/googmn.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/googmn.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=1337"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/googmn.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1337\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/googmn.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=1337"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/googmn.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=1337"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/googmn.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=1337"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\npublished on Precarious
\nEurope<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"