Interviewers: Elizabeth Burnette, Trinity ‘18; Grace Meisel, Trinity ‘19; Leah Rothfeld, Trinity ‘18
Introducing Carmen
Carmen is a Palestinian-Syrian refugee and student who now lives in Toronto, Canada. The grandchild of Palestinian refugees to Syria, Carmen grew up in the Yarmouk camp in Damascus and first sought asylum in Lebanon. Her family was later sponsored to move to Canada where she now lives with her mother, twin younger sisters, and boyfriend. We had the pleasure of speaking with Carmen during three Skype interviews, through which we got to know not only her experiences as a refugee but also her sarcastic sense of humor, love for her sisters and children in general, and hopes for the future. Despite experiencing loss and other hardships, Carmen has integrated herself well into her new place in Toronto through hard work and a commitment to finding and spreading happiness. Her ultimate goal is to return to Syria and work to rebuild her country after the war. Carmen is kind, funny, and open to talking in depth about her memories, both good and bad. We are immensely grateful to her for sharing her experiences.
Listen to Carmen’s Story
Transcription:
“My name is Carmen and I live now in Canada. I am Palestinian-Syrian. I grew up in Syria, in Damascus Yarmouk Camp. And also I want to one day to come back to Syria, and to help and rebuild everything, with any skill that I will have at that time. In Lebanon, I worked in a nonprofit organization with children, and we just tried to send messages by using puppets and theater, but this child will just forget all this stuff because you are trying to teach him in the school how to live in peace, and when he walk in street, there is this Lebanese child who will just beat him on his face or slap him and tell him you are a donkey, you are Syrian, go home. And so you are trying to help him not be a very ugly human, but everyone around him is so ugly. And also it was sad, because you are giving this child something not really what he needs right now. He needs food, he needs home, he needs to go to school.
In general, Syrians were not allowed to go to public school in Lebanon. They were going through this kind of organization who opened an education program who helped the students to learn about math, english maybe, Arabic, this kind of education. The lucky ones who had an opportunity to go to a public school, the other students treat them really bad. I know children who used to tell their parents “I’m going to school” but they never went to school, they just went to play in the street. Because the reality they are living in their schools is really bad.
I heard recently this story that they took girls and they put them in a house, like a prison, and they made them to work like to sleep with other men and like, without their permission or like anything, they can’t ask for help, they can’t do anything about that. And recently they just found that the people who stole them are not refugees, they are Lebanese people who are getting money. And there is not such a program to talk with men about this kind of stuff. They maybe are just humans who are raised in this way. They have to talk with women, they have to tell them that they can ask for help, there is this type of organization, they can take you to a safe place, they can take care of your children.
I don’t really talk about my memories, my nice ones or my ugly ones, this much, I don’t really share it. At the beginning of the war and everything, when I lose someone, I was like, I used to feel sad, like that’s normal, like you feel sad when you lose someone. But after that, no, when I lose someone I don’t feel sad. I feel numb. I feel nothing. It’s a survival situation. We all became different.“
