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Welcome
to Syria
2.26.2016
“Each
civilized person in the world should admit that he has two home countries: the
one he was born in, and Syria.” -- André
Parrot
I can end my first post right here, at the truthful words of
French archaeologist Parrot, who led excavations throughout Syria and
discovered magic beneath his digs. There is something metaphysical about Syria,
out of all the countries I have visited in this world. Something inexplicably
seductive that packing my bags in preparation for a six-week journey into my
war torn homeland is well worth it. So for all those instigating hate and fear
about refugees, know that no Syrian in the world truly wants to leave his/her
country…unless of course their family has been violated, their place of work
ransacked and their home demolished. Even then, many are grabbing on to the
soil of their home very tightly.
Five years ago I had to bid the most painful farewell of my
life. Crying in the arms of my grandparents and leaving behind the most beautiful
place in the world felt like agony. In six months, it had become more home than
the place where I was born and raised. I was prepared to abandon the last
semester of graduate school and begin working somewhere, anywhere, in Damascus.
That, however, had not been my destiny, and two months later
the revolution happened. My heart broke at the sight of the evolving chaos. I
wondered if God had given me those six months as an unknowing goodbye? There
came a point in the last five years where I was genuinely convinced that I
might never see Syria again.
Then, life happened. It always happens and the easiest thing
to do is let it happen. One of the greatest gifts I gave myself ages ago was
learning to surrender to God’s Plan. Why fight destiny when what’s meant to be
will be and what’s not will never be? To all Godly people, this is probably the
first skill to master. I’ve come across “religious” groups who end up
complaining about why they are single or childless or didn’t get accepted to
this particular job or that particular project and I ask them, “Do you believe
in God?” Their facial expression is priceless but when I loop it back to them,
they somewhat soften. (Most Godly people I come across love to just argue.) God
has set the plan in motion, so let it be. This alone relieves humankind from a
great deal of stress.
This is also the philosophy I reflected when people asked me
if I was scared to visit Syria during this current state. Yes, I was…am…but I have faith. When one lives
his/her life with purpose, the road ahead is not hazy.
My second layover was in Beirut, Lebanon, the only “safer”
route to Damascus, considering most airlines have suspended flights into Syria.
I spent the night there mentally preparing for a world of minimal showering and
water shortages, frequent power outages, the surplus of homelessness and the
sounds of war. It was hard to digest this from within a nice warm hotel room,
where I had just showered and enjoyed an authentic shawarma sandwich after five
years.
But the next morning, as we reached the border and walked
towards the patrol officers, I heard the first explosion. The officer stamped
my passport and tossed it back at me and with that I was welcomed into Syria.
Miles and miles of vaguely familiar hills took us through
winding roads that kept me in this state of numbness, until suddenly, the hills
ended, revealing a scene that jolted me into streaming tears: A smoky landscape
view of my ancient Damascus with a thick black cloud rising from where the
explosion had hit moments earlier.
For the rest of the 25-minute drive to my grandparents’
home, the tears wouldn’t stop. Checkpoint after checkpoint I began questioning
whether or not this was a dream. It had been five years, only five years! How
had an entire country transformed so vividly? Syria, for as long as I had known
it, was technically categorized as third world country, but this was the first
time it was actually looking like one.
The sounds of many more explosions filled the rest of our
afternoon and evening, wrenching my heart at the thought of who was caught
beneath them. People fail to recognize that while a great deal of Syrians have
been able to get out of the country as refugees, a large group of the
population are unable to do so.
My time here will be largely spent between savoring every
moment I have with my family and working diligently with these displaced
Syrians. I want to listen to their stories. I want to be their scaffold of
emotional support. And I want to coordinate projects to aid them with whatever
is their greatest need. Stay tuned for details on how you can support for those
that may be interested.
May God bless the world and grant us all safety and peace.
