Where is home?

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Where is home?

The answer to that question should be an easy one, and, for many people, I assume it is.

I get asked this question a lot and I used to think that the answer is straightforward. In fact, back in 2007 when I was a neurology resident living in Iowa, I was asked “where’s home for you doc?” and without hesitation I answered “Coralville”, the suburb of Iowa city where I used to live. The person asking the question laughed and said “No, I mean where do you come from?” “Oh, Damascus, Syria”, I replied.

Thinking back on my answer to that question in 2007, it seemed relatively easy and it felt true. I did consider Iowa to be my home, I had lived there for about 2 years and had close friends and family. I felt like I belonged.

Fast forward ten years, during which I have moved a few times and lost and welcomed loved ones into my life, and during which I watched millions of Syrians flee their home, and the answer is no longer that clear.

Take a minute, dear reader, and think about it: Where do you consider home to be? Is it where you were born? Where your family lives? Where you currently live? Or where you dream of living?

For those of you that live in the same city where you were born and raised, and have family close by – the answer is easy. For those who have moved around a bit or who have family all over the place – the answer gets a bit complicated, but the common thread remains that home is where you feel you belong.

For those of you who were forced out of your hometown or cannot go back, the answer will never be an easy one. I know of many Syrians that have made a life across the globe and I wonder, do they feel like they belong? Have they made a new home? The world sometimes has not felt that welcoming to us, especially recently.

Personally, I thought I was lucky, I left Syria many years prior to the war and I felt that America was home, I felt one and the same with the many faces of America. Recently, though not directly nor personally, I have been feeling a bit unwanted by my fellow Americans. Although I am far from losing hope in America, I started to wonder: What would happen if we are turned away? What would happen if millions of Syrian around the world are turned away?

Where would we go? Home? But I thought I was home already.

Dedication

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It’s February 14th today. I vividly remember my gifts to you on Valentines past. I remember us strolling up and down the street on our first Valentine while you timidly held my gift bag. I remember (and still have) the little notebooks we exchanged a year later and me whispering “I love you” for the first time. I remember how elaborate my gifts used to be many years ago.

My Darling Tamara, after 15 wonderful years, I thought I was out of ideas. I know we said we’re not going to do gifts this year but I think I have one more little gift to give you.

I asked myself: What can I give the woman who has stood by me through good and bad, who has loved me across continents and oceans and never lost faith in me? What do I give my best friend and confidant? The woman with whom I have built a wonderful home? Well, my little gift to you this year is this website.

Sure, it’s not fancy or famous but it’s where I’m going to go to tell stories about people finding their Damascus, about people finding new homes and building new lives. It’s where I’m going to remind the world that we are a good and loving people. It’s where I’m going to go to find and spread hope.

Hayati, I am reminded every day of how fortunate I am to have you in my life. You’ve given me a place to call home and filled it with love, warmth and laughter. I hope that by dedicating this website to you , I can give you someplace to go often to find some peace, love and hope.

For everything that you’ve done and just for being you, this website is dedicated to you.

To Tamara, with love.

Happy Valentine’s Day.

Welcome

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A few years ago, with the war in Syria raging on, I established this blog as a way to connect with fellow Syrians across the globe and spread the word about Syrian people, our heritage, culture and overall good nature.

Like many expatriates, I did not have the courage to visit Damascus, though I longed to do so frequently. This blog was going to be my way to reconnect with the city I love and its people. I also hoped that this blog and site would provide a sense of belonging to other Syrians who felt homesick.

Try as I may, however, I couldn’t find the perfect idea to start the blog. I had many ideas and emotions inside of me, but I just couldn’t bring myself to write on this blog. I went on with my life, I welcomed a baby daughter into the world, graduated from fellowship and moved halfway across the United States, all the while I kept circling back to these empty pages. Sad stories from Syria trickled into our lives every day through the news, social media and friends and family, but my fingers continued to hover over the keyboard, aimlessly.

The straw finally broke a few weeks ago. Although I was not directly affected by the presidential executive order on immigration, I felt, for the first time ever, a sense of loss and betrayal. I was living in a country that I loved and that I thought loved me back, a country that I proudly called home, but now I was feeling trapped, lost and homeless. While I will dedicate future posts to talk more about this subject, it was a motivation like never before to write, write and then write some more.

So sit back, dear reader, and enjoy. Please share your thoughts, comments and stories with the world those these humble pages. I hope to add pictures to the blog soon and to make it easy for people to share their own favorite pictures of anything Damascus  on this page.