Auteur: Engin Ayurt. Pixabay License.

When isolation is a blessing!

Living in solitude and isolation has often brought me a sense of peace and equilibrium. It has enabled me to unite with my most intimate thoughts and to contemplate life and universe. Since I was in my country of origin – Syria – solitude has been my loyal companion. But here, in Switzerland, and with the increasing sense of alienation, our relationship has grown even stronger!

With the outbreak of the new Covid-19 pandemic in Mars this year and the country’s going on lockdown, I have been transferred to a new dimension of isolation that is a mandatory one! A friend of mine has jokingly described it by saying “moving from a big prison into a solitary confinement!”

As a matter of fact, it isn’t the confinement, with all its ensuing restrictions and protective instructions that trouble me. On the contrary, I am always trying to abide by these preventive measures as much as I can, and I do sincerely believe that, in the middle of this collective hysteria, they are the only available shields in my possession toprotect myself and others from getting infected or sick.

I have lost count of the number of times I wash my hands every day! I try to avoid touching my face and to keep the social distancing when outside doing shopping or having a walk. Briefly speaking, I try to follow as much as I can Covid-19 alerts and instructions that have actually become an important part of our new daily routine.

Nonetheless, what scares me most are the shocking and gruesome images and reports regularly diffused by the mass-media and social networks, of the apocalyptic scenarios awaiting mankind in the aftermath of this catastrophe! The daily updates showing the spread of the pandemic: the global confirmed cases, the death-toll and the total recovered cases, are alarming! And still worst, the absence of global solidarity and cooperation, coupled with the attempts of politicizing the crisis, are all grave factors that “are helping to fuel the pandemic”, as WHO Director-General warns.

Are we entering a new era of our history?

Four months after the emergence of the virus, the world is still in shock and great confusion, not knowing how to contain it, nor how does it behave! Every day, we hear statements issued by respectable institutions that look ambiguous and uncertain! Not to mention, speeches made by some world leaders that sounds confusing and contradictory!

How long will it take before life turns to normal? How the Covid-19 pandemic will change the way we live? I do not know! But, what do I know for sure, is that there are people who are out there, fighting relentlessly day and night this invisible and insidious enemy, at the expense of their lives: the healthcare community, the volunteers, the army…

To all these brave unknown soldiers, I bow in respect!

H. Dono

Member of the Vaud editorial staff of Voix d’Exils

La version française de cet article est parue le 29.04 2020 avec pour titre original: Réflexion sur le COVID-19

Multilingual news on the measures taken by Switzerland to fight Coronavirus

L’Entraide Protestante Suisse (EPER), in collaboration with the Canton of Vaud and the University of Lausanne releases “CoronaNEWS”: weekly information videos, in four languages: ​​(English, Arabic, Spanish and Tigrinya to begin), which relays measures and decisions taken by the Swiss governement to fight Coronavirus.

In order for all people in Switzerland to participate in the solidarity effort and to be optimally protected against the Coronavirus epidemic, it is essential that they have access to official information in their own language.

You will find the videos below:

EPER

Canton of Vaud

Facebook

Instagram

Feel free to spread these videos on your networks and share abundantly on social networks!

CoronaNEWS

External editor of Voix d’Exils

To go further:

https://www.eper.ch/coronanews

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Reflection on displacement, aging and integration

I have been working hard for 35 years and was so immerged in my work that I rarely thought of my age. I loved my job: teaching. But, things turned upside down all of a sudden, and a ferocious tsunami has flung me violently into other shores.

At the refugee camp, I was in constant combat with all visions of my past. The attempts to kick them out by various means: meditation, yoga… came to nothing. Being a passionate fan of reading, I frequented the public libraries which provide a quiet and tranquil place for readers as well as for nappers! These libraries were very much like a kitchen full of mouth-watering food and delicacies, forbidden for me to eat. The shelves were packed with all sorts of books and publications mainly in French, a language I knew nothing about save few expressions and words which still lingered in my memory from the distant past. I was very much like a blind man groping his way in a room crammed with furniture. Ironically, during my practice as an English teacher I stuffed the heads of my students over years with advises on how to learn a foreign language. Now, I find myself at a loss.

I still remember an incident which happened to me some times ago. One day, while I was engaged in reading a book in a quiet park, I felt something is sniffing my hand. I pulled it out instinctively and found myself facing a dog barking at me, followed immediately by a barrage of angry words in French from a lady, the owner of the dog. What I could make out was that: “The dog would not eat you!” Had I knew French well, I would have told her “I know Madam! But your dog might have bitten me!” We both lacked something, I the language, she some manners.

Nevertheless, the thought of my upcoming French language courses – given to refugees as a part of integration program – would sometimes lift up my spirits. Kind of light at the end of the tunnel.  I would see everyday lots of students streaming down the main camp-route, heading towards “École”, and was wondering why my name was not included in the lists!

Then, one day my social assistant told me rather softly, to make it sound less painful: “The Establishment encourages young refugees to integrate not people at your age“. A shiver ran through my body. How time passes quickly ! Psychologists say teachers are most prone to the traumatic effects of aging as soon as they quit their job or retire. Yet, this was not what I felt. It was not the realization that I am growing old. It was something else, more poignant more distressing.

Had I been here 20 years ago, things would have been different! Completely different! But, there was no time for self-pity and pathetic feelings. I needed badly these courses; otherwise, I was going to “disintegrate” in no time between the four walls of my small cell.

Fortunately, the word “motivated “, a term commonly used here, came to my rescue. I was motivated! So, I started my intensive courses, together with many young refugees who spoke every other language except French; a good number of them were “unmotivated”! Even so, at the start of each new course, the word “aged” would replace “motivated”, and I had to struggle again to have my name included in the lists. Interestingly, the responsible of the courses, a very nice person of my age would argue in favor of the “rules”, while I would request an “exception”. Then as if to comfort me, he would tell me that he too was going to retire very soon!  What a comfort!

Yet, I have to admit that “old age” had at least one “advantage”! I was elected each time as a “delegate” of the class, not so much for my competences, but rather out of respect the African and Asian students still have for the grey hair! Moreover, teachers were considerate and one of them made some nice remarks about the age 60, saying that it is the period of maturity, relaxation and vacationing…!

Finally, I know well that “motivation” and “old age” do not go hand in hand as far as “labor market” is concerned. Yet, I know also that the key to “integration“, in the broader sense of the word (cultural, social, and psychological) is, the acquisition of the language skills  of the country, no matter whether the person is old or young, or else the incident above of the lady with the dog will be the alternative.

Hayrenik DONO  

Membre de la rédaction vaudoise de Voix d’Exils

Infos:

Cliquer ici pour lire la version française de l’article.

The world needs more than ever compassion and sympathy, not wars!

One of the most memorable characters, created by the Russian writer Nicolas Gogol (1809-1852) in his wonderful short story « The Overcoat » (1843), is Akaky Akakievich. The tragic hero whose pathetic death is a constant reminder of the sad ending of the vulnerable man in an environment void of human empathy.

The story narrates the short life of an unfortunate lowest-grade clerk in Saint Petersburg who is being pushed to his death by a bureaucratic system and callousness of people around him. It brings sharply into focus the fundamental issue of “brutality of man to man”.

Some of my dearest memories are connected with “The Overcoat”. The story had impressed me first as an adolescent. Later in the eighties, I taught it as a teacher of English to the high-school girls in my home-town Qamishli, Syria.

Teaching, as a matter of fact, was not at all an easy job in that rural, neglected, north-eastern part of the country, mostly populated by  offsprings of traumatized refugees fled from atrocities in Turkey during and after the First World War: like Syriacs, Armenians ,Kurds , Assyrians, Chaldeans and of course  Arabs. Schools reflected very much the divisions in the community. The ambiance was far from being friendly. Students regrouped in classrooms according to their strong ethnic, tribal and religious affiliations. Communication between them was rare while ethnic languages regularly resonated everywhere. Add to that, neither the students nor their parents cared much about English as a school-subject.

 As for teachers, they had first to go through the long and arduous trial of prejudice and stereotyping, before winning the confidence of students. Unfortunately, I was one of those teachers, being a descendant of an Armenian refugee family.

Nevertheless, my experience in teaching “The Overcoat” had completely different results. From the first reading of the story (normally, it took 3 reading-periods to finish, each 50 minute, over a span of 2 weeks) I would notice a notable change in the comportment of my students. An unusual interest in the narrative as well as a profound sympathy for the poor little clerk, would replace everyday classroom chatting and apathy. They would passionately follow the dramatic decline of Akakyievich, having received insults and injuries one after another. Strangely enough, it looked that the tragedy of our hero was bringing the different groups closer together. The class was gradually discarding the usual restrictions, revealing more intimacy and friendliness. Chats in the official Arabic language would become frequent among them. Some girls would even start sharing the same bench and read in the same textbooks, something which was not common. But, it was the death of Akakyievich that deeply distressed them and made their eyes glisten with innocent tears. It was a means of catharsis for them.

I was always wondering how come all this transformation over a very short period of time? How come that the layers of prejudice and mistrust would melt down in few days and spontaneous human sentiments of compassion, pity and love would shine beneath? What was the secret?

To my surprise, the answer came from one of the girls. “Sir” she said in Arabic, “The Overcoat narrates our sad history. We are actually lamenting our own destiny, not that of Akakievich’s! ”. Overwhelmed by emotions, she could not continue further.

Now that war in Syria has entered its seventh year and half of the population has become displaced, I sometimes recall the prophetic words of that 16 years-old girl and wonder where destiny has thrown her amid this senseless game of wars.

H.Dono

Membre de la rédaction vaudoise de Voix d’Exils

09 May 2017

Father Frans in Syria

In memoriam father Frans Van Der Lugt      

The 7^th of April 2017 coincides with the 3^rd anniversary of the assassination of father Frans Van Der Lugt, the 75 years old Dutch Jesuit priest who dedicated more than 50 years of his life to the people of Syria. Born in Netherland in 1938 into a bankers’ family, he studied theology, philosophy, psychotherapy and Arabic language, then moved to Syria in 1966 to live there the rest of his life. He was brutally murdered by a masked gunman on 7 April 2014 at the Jesuits Residence in Bustan al-Diwan , in Homs, Syria.

When civil war broke out in the country in march 2011, the old city of Homs including the Christian quarter of Bustan al-Diwan, where the Jesuits Residence was situated, fell into the hands of the Islamist rebels, and was soon besieged by the Syrian army. Ft. Frans chose to stay in the besieged enclave, under nearly daily bombardment and sniper fire and to share the suffering and ordeal of both Christians and Muslims. “The Syrian people have given me so much…I want to share their pain and their suffering” He said.                      

During the 3 year-long terrible siege until May 2014, all supply had been prevented, nor had people been allowed in or out. Ft. Frans was desperately trying to make ends meet. Traversing the streets and alleys of the phantom enclave by bicycle or on foot, he would visit the traumatized, sick and starving inhabitants offering psychological counselling, support and some bread, water or bulgur if could be afforded. He sheltered the displaced shell-rocked families Muslim or Christian in the Jesuit Residence and made a number of videos demanding the international community to urgently address the human tragedy in the besieged enclave. “The Residence had become a center for reconciliation thanks to him” says father Hilal. Shafiaa al-Rifaei, a displaced Muslim mother who found refuge in the Jesuit Residence, told AFPTV: “He would provide us with foodstuff, children-milk and would always comfort us saying this would soon come to an end. He started small parties for children and gave them sweets and presents …” Another man told The Daily Star reporter “He took my sick father on his bicycle to the (makeshift rebel) hospital despite the bombing”. Frans made no distinction between religions: «I don’t see Muslims or Christians, I see above all human beings.”

A psychotherapist and a serious Yoga and Zen practitioner

Years before the beginning of this appalling war, hundreds of people from Homs and elsewhere in Syria, would come to the Jesuits Residence in Bustan Al-Diwan seeking help and counselling. «As a psychotherapist and a serious Yoga and Zen practitioner, Abouna Frans (as he was fondly called, abouna meaning father) has helped hundreds. He has never turned down a person.” says Abdel-Messieh a psychiatrist of Syrian origin living in Lausanne (Switzerland). “For years I have taken part in his various youth activities. I was amazed how he could always find time to listen patiently to everyone in spite of his very busy schedule. He must have slept only two or three hours a day. He was an exceptional man and priest!”

[Al-Maseer] The Hike

Ft. Frans was a great lover of Syria. In 1981 he initiated the first [Al-Maseer] The Hike: a “pilgrimage” through the Syrian desert and mountainous areas, held in summer or winter, eight days a year. The objective was to discover the beauty of Syrian landscape and to live an experience of sharing and solidarity: “At the end of every hike… We notice that there is no one not loved.” said he. For thirty successive years, he led the groups of hikers through the arduous and ragged paths and tracks reiterating his well-known slogan “Move forward”. Thousands of youth of all faiths and from all parts of the country took part in this celebrated event. At his advanced age he looked more energetic and dynamic than the youth. The hikers drove strength and stamina from him. “Abouna Frans was a spiritual mentor and father to all. A profound source of hope and compassion.” says Marwa, a resident of Bustan al-Diwan until 2011, now living in Vienna, Austria.

 [Al-Ard] The Earth Center

In 1991, he confounded [al-Ard] The Earth Center, on an area of 23 hectares of land, not far from the city of Homs. An unprecedented project of rural and social development, aiming at rehabilitating people with mental disabilities, combating rural depopulation and migration as well as providing a lieu for spiritual retreat and interfaith dialogue. The name itself [al-Ard] (see video above in Arabic) is significant, it empathizes man’s connection to land and environment as a unifying bond.

The hope giver

In a society sharply divided ethnically and religiously, Ft. Frans helped to build bridges and to find common grounds based on human values. “He was a different kind of clergy, modest, intellectual and non-dogmatic who loved the company of ordinary people. He had the courage to open the windows wide to let in fresh air, that is why he was very much loved by the youth”. “Says Muntaha a longtime participant of Frans’ youth activities, currently living in Lausanne.

The civil war has shattered all Frans’ projects but never his faith nor his devotion for the people of Syria. He had made his peace with God and stayed true to his calling to help the poor the sick and build bridges of reconciliation and peace. Maybe the seeds he planted will take time to grow in a country torn by 6 years of apocalyptic war, violence and hatred. Nevertheless, many has already grown in blossom in Europe, in Homs and in other parts of the world, as is the case with Muntaha, Abdel-Messieh, Shafiaa and with Marwa from Vienna who concludes her testimony overwhelmed by emotions: “Abouna Frans has been the source of my inspiration and integration here . He made me what I am today”.

Hayrenik DONO

Membre de la réduction vaudoise de Voix d’Exils

Click to here the song

Fr Frans Van der Lugt SJ: Man of Peace and Bridgebuilder

Ft.Frans’ picture