A Hope More Powerful Than the Sea(24)

In the afternoon, neighbors started stopping by the apartment with arms full of store-bought and homemade things to eat: salty Domiati cheese, fried chicken, steamed rice, trays of baklava, and baskets filled with fresh fruit. They were refugees as well from Damascus, Homs, and even some from Daraa. The Al Zamels quickly made friends with their neighbors, bonding over stories of the thrill of the revolution and the terror of war that had driven them from their country to Egypt. The atmosphere these people brought to the living room was festive and welcoming. Doaa found herself laughing and smiling with her new neighbors, relieved to be among her own people.

Doaa’s family was part of the first wave of Syrians to flee to Egypt since the conflict began in 2011, most of whom came to join Syrian friends and family who were working there. Others had business connections or other personal networks that could offer them shelter. To get by, most refugees relied on personal savings, found odd jobs, or opened businesses, and many were able to become self-reliant. That was the hope of Doaa’s parents, too, but soon after they arrived, a bigger influx of refugees brought more competition for work, making it harder to make ends meet. During the first half of 2013, the number of Syrian refugees rose dramatically. One year after the Al Zamels arrived in Egypt, the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR) registered 125,499 Syrian refugees in the country, and according to the Egyptian government, that figure was actually closer to 300,000 if all unregistered Syrians were taken into account.

The supportive communities that formed among the refugees helped them get through the transition and helped ease Doaa’s loneliness, although she missed home desperately. What if the move wasn’t temporary? she often worried. What if she had to stay forever in this strange place? How would she ever adjust? She hated change.

The streets of their new neighborhood were filthy and smelled of decaying garbage. Stray dogs and cats ate from piled-up rubbish in the streets, and flies buzzed around the trash that seemed to be everywhere. Where were the streetlamps and the trash bins? Doaa would wonder as she wandered around town. The people of Daraa had prided themselves on the cleanliness of their city, and Doaa was shocked by the neglect in her new neighborhood. Gamasa did, however, have a lovely coastline and beach, and she was told that in the summer the city transformed into a resort for the working class. Looking around at the trash-filled streets, Doaa had a hard time believing it.

Feeling disconnected and homesick, Doaa spent a lot of time worrying about her family’s future. She knew her father was running out of money fast. With her three older sisters, Alaa, Ayat, and Asma, married and in Abu Dhabi, Lebanon, and Syria, Doaa was now the eldest child in the family. This role carried responsibilities that she had no idea how to fulfill as she felt so helpless.

She knew that she and her family were now safe in Egypt and tried to convince herself that they were better off here. She tried to focus on the new sense of safety and normalcy and reveled in hearing everyday city-street sounds instead of shelling and bombs. But despite all this, Doaa had trouble ignoring the numbness that overcame her. At least in Daraa, she had a purpose. She was a recognized member of a supportive community that was standing up for values that were under attack. Here, she felt like a tolerated guest living off sympathy: a refugee and one of a growing group of helpless people. Even worse, she sometimes felt that she had abandoned her country, even though she knew that staying in Syria might have killed her. But who was she without her community? What meaningful contribution could she make here while her country was destroying itself? Doaa tried to not reveal her gloom to her family. She would often remind herself, Be patient, this is a new challenge. Your family needs you to be strong for them. There is nothing more important to you than their well-being.

One month after their arrival, the family’s funds ran out, and the depression that had gripped Shokri after his shop was destroyed worsened. His cholesterol and blood pressure rose and he would spend hours sitting on a cushion in the common room, smoking or drinking sweetened tea, without moving or talking. Doaa felt that her father was slipping away from her. She knew that he thought that he’d failed his family, and he was too proud to talk about it. Her parents never complained or argued in front of them, but Doaa could clearly see how the pressures of their new life were affecting them, especially when it became clear that they might have to stay in Egypt even longer than they had anticipated. As they watched the news showing more clashes and bombings back home, Hanaa would say, “Thank goodness we left.” Shokri, however, would insist that it wouldn’t be long until they could return, reminding them of the period of transitions that occurred in Tunisia after the uprising, and in Egypt after the Muslim Brotherhood took control. As much as Doaa wanted to believe her father, she knew that it was his despair talking; everything she saw on the news made it clear they wouldn’t be able to go home anytime soon.

Back in February 2011 a popular protest took place in Egypt ousting its autocratic president, Hosni Mubarak. Over time the Muslim Brotherhood gained popularity in the country and rose to power. The secular and non-Muslim populations of Egypt were deeply uncomfortable with this development, and in June 2012, a few months before Doaa and her family arrived in Damietta, the Muslim Brotherhood chairman, Mohamed Morsi, won the presidency with 51 percent of the vote in Egypt’s first democratic election. Morsi promised to lead a government that would be “for all Egyptians,” but his critics soon accused him of awarding key government positions to Islamists and criticized him for not introducing the economic and social reforms that he had promised during his campaign.