Female Voices In Exile vol.3

Description

This is the third booklet in the “Women’s Voices in Exile” series, which I began collecting in early 2017 as part of the “Women for Shared Spaces” project. I am collecting these texts in an attempt to build bridges between Arabic-speaking refugee women in Germany, on the one hand, and the German social, political, and media landscape, on the other.

The idea of establishing “Women for Shared Spaces” four years ago was born of mixed feelings and problematic perceptions of the term “integration.” This deepens the sense among us, as refugees, that there is a specific framework within which we must fit—in other words, undergo a number of internal and behavioral transformations—for integration to be achieved from the perspective of the host society, both civil and political. The idea of shared spaces emerged as an attempt to create an alternative to the term “integration,” by considering a two-way process, or an imaginary space in which the host society and new arrivals share the same respect for freedoms and appreciation for cultural differences. They also exchange knowledge about each other, enriching both culturally and humanly, without depriving or imposing anything on either.

The mass flight of many Syrians between 2013, 2016, and 2017, due to the Syrian regime’s violence and use of weapons against civilians, as well as the violence of extremist organizations, was a harsh fate for them first and foremost, as well as for the countries that received their waves, most notably Germany. In speaking with many of them, it became clear that Germany was a dream country for many Syrians. They heard comparisons between Germany and other countries from those who had preceded them, elevating its standing as a country where they dreamed of a dignified life and stability, and an opportunity to restore their individual and familial balance. The journey begins with escaping bombardment or the threat of arrest and execution. It passes through Turkey, where the refugee pays all their savings to secure a seat on a rubber dinghy with a 50% chance of death, arriving at the awaiting paradise in Europe/Germany.

Many refugees are subject to the stereotypes of the host society. This is natural given the cultural differences and the contrasting traditions and principles that govern the lives of different communities in both the country of asylum and the host country. However, these stereotypes generate a sense of dispossession and injustice among refugees, especially many women who are singled out for their hijab, for example. This leaves them with a sense of non-acceptance and, consequently, inferiority. This, in turn, fosters feelings of alienation, perhaps even suspicion, among a segment of the host society regarding the other, categorized according to cultural/social norms.

Writing seems to be a challenge for many, and an opportunity for others. But what pains me most is that women who arrived in Germany years ago still write about their journey by rubber dinghy across the sea. Even if they don’t write about it, they do talk about it during the discussion sessions held within the workshops, a clear indication of the profound and harsh impact that the memory of that journey has had on them.
The women I met in several Berlin shelters don’t talk about cultural differences, the political situation in Germany, or other issues, because it’s not a priority when they organize their thoughts. There are many painful signs in some of what they talk about, and optimistic ones in others. But if I were to summarize my experience of the past three years, I would say that the first thing women in the shelters ask about is my ability to help them find private housing for themselves and their families. This indicates the first thing women lack: privacy.
Some might ask: Don’t these women have anything joyful to write about? I say: Yes, we had many things; Homes, family, and friends… mothers and grandmothers… balconies planted with flowers, and big dreams are all mentioned by the women in their texts. I dream of painting with them, through these texts, a panoramic picture of Syria and all the countries of asylum that the women carry in their hearts and write about.

These women have taught me so much: about patience and determination, about endurance while awaiting reunification, about the struggle to learn German and prove oneself, and about continuing to think about Syria and learning so much for it when we return.

Every day, our existential divide is renewed between our physical existence here in Berlin and our mental and emotional presence in faraway and diverse places, where our memories and longings are. Every day, we love Berlin more and expand our hearts, never forgetting our country or denying Berlin’s favor to us.