Damascus, Syria
June 16, 2009
Middle Eastern people are by nature gift givers. My room and the refrigerator outside on the patio attest to this. The homemade yogurt from Namir’s family and the jar of cherry jam from Sara, mother of four; are in the process of being consumed. However, the large oil painting from 16 year old Noor, a bar of soap carved into the shape of a foot by little Anfal and a large Arabic bible are just a few of the lasting items so lovingly given to me.
During my brief overnight trip to Aleppo I was walking with Iraqi friends through one of the world famous souqs. The rich smell of spices, the intricately fashioned inlaid tables and the beautiful woven scarves and colorful fabrics were just a few of the things that delighted my senses. I dared not admire anything openly. I was certain that if I did the family, refugees themselves, would have purchased the item for me. As it was they did indeed buy me something, a set of beautiful prayer beads.
As I write you on this Tuesday morning, I am thinking of an Iraqi friend who is standing at this moment under the hot sun with hundreds of others at the UNHCR hoping to speak with someone about his case. Another family of nine is being interviewed by Department of Homeland Security (DHS) for resettlement to the U.S. They were so nervous. Yet another family is due to depart tonight from Damascus to the U.S. That is, the mother and four children are slated to travel. The father has been rejected by DHS on “credibility” grounds. He must remain behind. They were advised that should the wife and children refuse the offer to travel, they would lose any hope of resettlement. Once in the states, the wife was told she can file papers in the US. Maybe her husband can join them in a year or two. His mother, three sisters and brother live in the states.
I just got off the phone with a trusted translator friend who only days ago introduced me to this family. Shall we go to the airport to see them off? I’m not sure I can bear to witness the family’s grief. Their four year old daughter (pictured above) said “I’m going to wait behind with you. I don’t want to leave you.”
In the last days we have been trying desperately to get this decision overturned. I will go to internet in a little while to see if our urgent appeal has reached the ears of any congress people. But I feel like we are trying to move a mountain.
In the final chapter of his book “The Street Philosopher and the Holy Fool: A Syrian Journey,” we find the author Marius Kochiejowski in a half-jesting dialogue with his Sufi alchemist friend, Sulayman, from Damascus. Marius tells him that there are no tents in London, nor camels for that matter, should Sulayman decide to travel there. Sulayman replies “All right then, when I arrive with the camel I will give [the neighbors] gifts and they will grow to like the camel. A human being is a creature of gifts, which is why for four thousand years you’ve loved Santa Claus because he gives gifts.”
You are probably asking yourself what does Sulayman or Santa Claus for that matter, have to do with people waiting in vain for hot hours in the scorching sun? Or with a family so desperate that they would agree to separate. I’m not really sure myself.
I believe however that despite the ongoing war(s), we are not by any means just takers of life, inflictors of suffering. We are also givers of life, givers of gifts. More important than the small gesture of money however is the message you send them that they are not forgotten. I take every opportunity to tell them that many many people in the U.S. are trying to better their situation. Each one of them has asked me to thank you.
