Homeland

Growing up, there was not a time when I could see myself living anywhere other than my home country: Syria. It was where all my family, relatives and friends had resided for years before, and where everyone thought they would reside for years to come. I knew that Syria would be the land where I would raise my children, and watch them grow up to raise their own, as our family continued to develop and mold our city. What I did not know, however, was how different my vision of the truth was from God’s plan. What I did not know was that my country, the cities I had planned to spend the rest of my life in, were so far from how I knew them to be; they were practically unrecognizable.

I left my home city of Damascus, Syria, in the year 2013, two years after the Arab Spring crisis began in 2011. I did so in order to ensure that my children and my family could have the life I wanted them to have, as it looked like Syria was turning into a country unlike the one I had grown up in. Before I left, and before the crisis began, Damascus was the only home I had ever known. I had memories in every store near my house, and every block next to my school. It was where my mother, my father, and all of my siblings lived. I knew almost everyone in my county area by name and trusted them enough to invite them into my home or have them watch my children.

It was just before I decided to leave Syria that I watched the country I knew so well turn into one that I had no knowledge of. People were turning their backs on one another based on political views, education was getting harder to pursue, even careers were turning into simply physical labor. I watched as several of my friends and family members died or left home to find solace in a new country and give their families a chance at a life where they did not have to worry about hourly power outages or lack of hot water running through the house. I knew that this country, the one I had once held so dear to my heart was not a safe haven any longer but rather a risk to myself and to the ones that I loved.

That is why I knew in 2011 that I had no better choice than to leave home. It was not because I did not have faith in the future of my nation, or that I would not miss all of those that I left behind. Rather, it was because I knew, although my upbringing in Syria was a wonderful one, I was not so sure I could provide the same to my children if we continued to live in this country. I hope to someday be able to return to the land that I once knew so well, and to embrace my family with open arms. I know that it will not be the same place it was when I left it, but the troubles and trials it went through over the years will only make it and its people much, more stronger.