As a younger little one, the one curse I knew about was from the Disney basic with its pleased ending: the one the place a kiss transforms the frog again right into a prince, breaking the spell. It’s the form of curse that has a remedy, an finish. I didn’t then know I’d develop up experiencing probably the most painful curse: that of being born within the Center East, a surviving, Arab Muslim Syrian.
From childhood, I additionally recall Jim Carrey’s speech on desires and ambitions: profitable individuals are those that imagine that no matter occurs in life occurs for them, he stated. I don’t imagine that is the case for Syrians. In my nation, life, struggle and pure disasters occur to us and never for us. Every thing that occurs solely appears to multiply our ache and trauma. We haven’t skilled a break from atrocities for greater than a decade now. In my nation, we’re used to not being seen as a inhabitants, which will increase the injury. We’re collectively traumatized.
We’re used to the odor of dying – sure, dying does have a odor and it lingers.
Fleeing struggle
I used to be 18 years previous when the struggle began and first skilled survival guilt. I nonetheless keep in mind the day I woke as much as the sounds of an explosion close to my house. Dwelling in a army neighbourhood made us a direct goal for ISIS and terrorist assaults. The explosion that day turned out to be the assassination of a colonel within the Syrian military. That they had bombed his automobile on the street throughout from my home. It was nothing however ruthless. I keep in mind going to school that day carrying my fears with me, worrying that they may kill my dad any day. All I might consider was ‘will my dad be secure’ and ‘when will it’s my flip to die’.
My dad was within the military again then and threatened by ISIS. They meant to kill him and his household. We survived by leaving him again in Aleppo and boarding a aircraft with twenty lifeless martyrs, who had been disregarded within the woods for greater than ten days. I can nonetheless keep in mind the odor of the our bodies and the faces of these round me. They have been terrified. Infants have been crying. I nonetheless keep in mind the aching goodbye we had with my dad. We didn’t know if we’d ever see him once more. I actually want my first flight had been much less traumatic.
Displacement trauma
And I want the curse had stopped there. However the world will not be a fairytale. After we landed safely in my unique house metropolis of Lattakia, I knelt down and kissed the bottom, sobbing nonstop. However my aid was quick lived. I used to be lonely: I had no mates, no group and was bullied all through my college years whereas dealing with post-traumatic stress dysfunction (PTSD).
I keep in mind after I first began having fainting episodes. It began again in our home in Aleppo. It was a type of calm, sizzling summer time nights. My dad was on an evening shift at his army workplace, leaving my mother, siblings and I alone at house. We might have witnessed a couple of riots and clashes right here and there because the struggle was kicking off, however none of it was as harmful as that evening. We used to open the home windows to permit a breeze into the home; Aleppo is understood for its sizzling summers. We have been minding our personal enterprise when a bunch of Jihadi individuals all of a sudden appeared from what appeared like the center of nowhere and began yelling ‘Allahu Akbar’ within the streets whereas approaching our constructing with weapons and rifles. They have been capturing into the air. We had by no means seen or heard something prefer it earlier than. We rapidly ran to close the picket shutters and balcony door. My mum instantly gathered us collectively and took us into her bed room, the most secure place in the home. I keep in mind listening to the heavy capturing approaching us and my mom’s voice making an attempt to maintain me awake and on my toes. I’d have fainted fully that day had it been for her voice. She held me tight whereas I sobbed nonstop.
That evening may need handed, however the trauma would proceed. I’d almost faint each time I heard a gunshot. Once we have been secure in Lattakia, after leaving my dad behind, I nonetheless had difficulties sleeping, even with soothing music – the one ‘music’ I knew again then was the sound of bombings and gunshots.
Dwelling away from my dad for greater than 9 years made life as a youngster even tougher. What I’d name existential and regional migration has left me scarred for all times. Being raised between two cities had already created some angst. I used to be on the lookout for a way of belonging to the group I used to be in however all the time felt like an outcast. I used to be neither Lattakian nor Aleppian however somewhat a mixture of each and nobody appeared to know that. Having to depart Aleppo and my earlier life behind made issues even worse. I used to be the ‘outsider’ as soon as once more, this time in my delivery metropolis and with out my dad’s stabilizing presence.
I needed to overcome my PTSD alone. Psychological well being points have been thought of a taboo again then in Syria and my household didn’t acknowledge my dysfunction. I had no entry to psychological well being assist. My physique appeared to ‘preserve the rating’. None of this landed properly.
However I used to be not alone, in fact. Thousands and thousands of Syrians have been displaced. Nearly all my mates migrated to completely different elements of the world and needed to search shelter from the struggle. Whereas many migrated to Germany and different European nations, others moved to neighbouring Arab nations like Egypt, Lebanon and Jordan. Those that in desperation left by boat usually drowned at sea.
The curse didn’t raise. The Syrian economic system was collapsing; retailers, businessmen and vibrant minds had left, leaving factories and companies in disuse. Sanctions on Syria as a result of struggle contributed to weaken public well being companies. When the COVID-19 pandemic occurred, it posed an additional risk to psychological and bodily well being; hospitals had already been broken and there was no entry to correct remedy.
Earthquake and reliving trauma
Regardless of all this upheaval, I used to be naive sufficient to imagine that our curse had been damaged. I believed that we had had our justifiable share of ache and dying for over twelve years. I believed that nothing worse might ever occur. I believed that I might dream as soon as extra, that I could lead on my life now not in survival mode.
However all my hopes have been crushed after I woke as much as the earthquake wrecking my home. Mendacity in mattress, I first woke to the sound of rain hitting my window. It was pouring down and there was a thunderstorm as properly. Then, I began listening to the earth rumbling. It gave the impression of rocks rolling down from the highest of a mountain. The sound began to get louder because the constructing began to shake.
After I bought up, all I cared about was discovering my household. I woke my mother and father and siblings. We gathered in a single place subsequent to at least one the pillars of the home. my household’s faces, I used to be grateful this time that, if we have been to die, we’d all be collectively. We might not be separated like all these years in the past. I felt that I might die in peace having my household round me, particularly my dad. Seeing him standing there with us and defending us despatched me again to the powerful occasions when he confronted dying through the struggle. We needed to anticipate him to contact us; he was in command of one of the crucial vital weapons depositories in Aleppo when ISIS broke into the constructing and began killing troopers. We prayed nonstop for him. I do imagine that our prayers alongside his good deeds and brave coronary heart are what saved him. He was again house secure and sound. Seeing him standing there, I felt secure.
Because the earthquake began to get stronger, we started reciting verses that Muslims normally say when welcoming dying. I believed I might by no means survive such a lethal earthquake and that was okay – I used to be with my household, which mattered probably the most.
However I survived as soon as extra. For a second, I want I hadn’t. Minutes after the earthquake had stopped, we needed to acquire our basic items and evacuate the constructing. My PTSD had been triggered. I began to panic and cry as my thoughts raced again to our home in Aleppo – the one I’d by no means be capable of return to. It took me again to our automobile journey with ISIS surrounding the place, making an attempt to succeed in the airport, to outlive.
Aftershocks continued for a month. Each would have the identical impact: I relived my painful wartime survival expertise over and over. I didn’t know learn how to navigate life anymore.
What made it worse was the sensation of guilt. Throughout and immediately after the struggle, I used to be youthful and didn’t absolutely perceive the character of my emotions. After surviving the earthquake, nonetheless, in addition to reliving my trauma, I knew I used to be experiencing compound survival guilt. I saved asking myself questions. Why am I nonetheless alive? Why have infants died and I’m nonetheless right here? How come I nonetheless have a roof over my head, sheltering me, whereas others have ended up on the streets? Why? I saved feeling responsible for nonetheless being alive. How am I supposed to maneuver on and never really feel shameful for doing so?
How am I supposed to hold on with the odor of dying filling the air round me? How am I imagined to sleep whereas the desires of others have been crushed beneath rubble? How can I really feel secure and sound in my home whereas others are unsafe on the streets or pressured to sleep in chilly shelters?
How can we break this curse? Will it ever stop? Will the Syrian nation ever know what security means? Will we be capable of discover a house away from disasters and wars, all brutality?
Aleppo after earthquake in February 2023. Picture by Salem Mohammadi by way of Wikimedia Commons
Collective hope
I won’t know the reply to all of this, however I do know that being born Syrian is being born right into a collective trauma that may linger so long as we maintain onto it. Nothing we undergo may be categorized as regular. From the struggle, inflation and the pandemic to a lethal earthquake, survival guilt has develop into each Syrian’s shadow be it within the diaspora or at house. We both die or are haunted by those that are lifeless.
Whereas this can be each Syrian’s scenario, I do know that the Syrian love of life and homeland will equally by no means be eradicated. Compassion, generosity, persistence, resilience and ambition will reside on.
Because the responsible survivor, social activist and Syrian citizen I’m, I’ll proceed to reside, utilizing my voice to talk up for all Syrians. The curse would possibly by no means stop, however we are going to discover methods to beat it, to dream, to rebuild, to hope, to like, over and over. We’ll discover methods to show our curse and ache right into a supply of knowledge.
The odor of dying may need been sturdy for the previous twelve years, however I do know that the Syrian survivors’ love for one another after the earthquake is stronger than any ache. Blossoming roses within the gardens of Syrian homes and public parks asserting the arrival of spring are what fills the air now – the odor of recent beginnings, the odor of affection. We would not know what life has in retailer for us, however we do know that love can finally remedy all wounds and could break all curses.
