Amr Al-Farham, his wife Rasha and their
son Kareem arrived in Toronto in December 2016. They are the second Syrian family our group had sponsored to come to Canada. We asked Amr to give our
supporters an update about how the family has
settled in.
I promised, with pleasure, that I would write a post a year after our arrival and now it’s been almost 19 months. My wife and I were, and still are, overwhelmed with life, and this is another sign
of becoming Torontonians. I think that one of the most important signs of becoming a Torontonian is that what you think you can do is way less compared to what you can actually do.
When I knew that moving to Canada is
happening, my child had just gotten out of the incubator after two months of
intensive care. He had been born prematurely. To celebrate both events, we threw a big party at our flat in
the city of Gaziantep, which we call Aintab, in the south of Turkey. During
the party, my Syrian friend who had been to Canada before gave me what
sounded like a very precious advice: “Amr, you won’t believe me if I told you
that the country is extremely cold. Please wrap-up very well even under your
pants as many people lose their genitals due to the extreme cold. If you’re not
well prepared, your genitals will fall off and you will lose them
forever.”
My friend’s advice was untrue but the cold
he told me about was something I never experienced in my life. I know now where
the famous Game of Thrones’ phrase “Winter is coming” comes from, and
how weather here controls not only the way people dress “the crows on the
wall” but also how people act, react, live, behave and even smile.
Upon arrival, most people in Toronto have
been very welcoming. I later figured out that the reason was that we were the
hot topic in the news. We were the topic of debate and, to a much lesser degree, a
target of insult for some conservatives. Unlike many Syrian friends in the
diaspora who were hiding their identity in the public fearing becoming a target
of hate, discrimination or just simply getting bombarded with tons of political
and religious questions, I decided to say out loud that I had recently
arrived as a Syrian refugee and was open to all responses. In downtown Toronto,
the responses were usually warm and welcoming.
However, I would receive the strangest
comments and questions that one would not expect. Here are some examples from
different people during the past 18 months:
- "You’re Syrian! Oh wow, that’s
cool! I am happy to meet one in person, are you really as traumatized as they say
in the news?"
- "Oh, welcome to Canada buddy! May
I ask a question; did you really cross the sea and walk across Europe in order
to make it here?"
- "We are glad you are here and
safe; do you need toasters? We have an extra one?"
In our culture we use different bread (what
people call pita here is actually Syrian bread), so toasters are not essential
in our diet. But my answer to the last question was: “Thank you very much, what
we really need here is a job.”
Speaking English and having university
degrees helped us jump many steps forward. Ripple Refugee group understood this
from the very first time they met us. Instead of registering us in a language
school or showing us how to take a first TTC ride, they put huge efforts into
networking and helping us write our resumes and cover letters in an attractive
way for a Canadian employer. I want to mention the invaluable one-on-one meetings
with group member Keith, who is a HR specialist.
With all the support we received, and by
being proactive, flexible and positive, by talking to everyone and sending our
resumes everywhere, my wife started working in a media company in February. She
has since been promoted and given a permanent contract, while I was able to get
a limited contract with Doctors Without Borders as a project manager.
Being in an advantaged position, I
volunteered my language skills and translated for Syrian newcomer families who
did not speak any English, which connected me with many families who were not
as advantaged as we were back home. They told me how determined they were to
build a new life for themselves and for their loved ones. They were eager to
study, or just jump at any job opportunity and start providing for their
families despite all the challenges. I was also introduced to different private
sponsorship groups who were from different age groups and different
professions. Some were faith based while other were just neighborhood groups,
work colleagues or even dog walkers. But what they all shared is that they were
amazing people who were willing to provide as much support and care as
possible.
Fleeing a war-torn country is not something that is easy to overcome. We still have our parents in relatively safer cities but with
mortars occasionally falling around and kidnappings. They live under a brutal,
oppressive and corrupt regime in a permanent failed economy and prevailing
misery in the air. We have friends and family who are scattered around the
world, with similar education qualifications. Some have been successful while others
are still struggling. We talk to them on the phone and many reveal how
desperate and helpless they are. I believe that if my friends in Germany,
Spain, France or even Turkey and Egypt were privately sponsored and provided
with similar support opportunities as happened to me and my wife, they would
have been doing much better now and their host countries would have been
benefiting from their skills.
In my mindset now, I am not a refugee
anymore. I am a newcomer with skills, a Torontonian who follows up with
elections, local news and checks the TTC updates every weekend. I am writing
this article while my son is running around me, mumbling short sentences
of mixed English and Syrian Arabic words. I have a daily struggle of how to
keep a balance between the now and the roots, the future and the past, my
current Canadian dream of a diverse, fair and open society and my Syrian dream
of a stable democratic and pluralist country.
By Amr Al-Faham
