Fear and Freedom in Berlin
One crazy person drives a lorry into a Christmas market. The world inhales the news and exhales fear with a hiss.
This is a hard post to write. Just yesterday morning, I was remembering a year ago, how we were ready for 2015 to end, how the Paris attacks had shaken us. Now people are paying attention to Berlin. Last night’s tragedy was small in comparison to Paris, but it’s disturbing nonetheless: 12 dead. 48 injured. All Christmas markets in Berlin are closed today.
Questions are flying, and in this time of social media, we expect instant answers: Who is behind this? Who is the driver? Is he a refugee?
We are angry that people were killed in a Christmas market, a place that is meant to be fun and safe.
One act of wickedness grabs people’s attention and suddenly overarching narratives are created around that one person.
I understand the anger and the fear — we’re angry when life is violently snuffed out. We are afraid of what we don’t know. It’s hard to be open minded about refugees when the main narratives you see are —
The fear is real — but it’s oversimplifying to correlate last year’s influx of refugees into Europe and these attacks as cause and effect; there is a series of enquiries being passed over. Questions like —
What happens after the dramatic journey across sea and land, once the refugees have crossed (or been blocked at) central European borders?
After refugees are registered in Germany/Europe and await their fate, what then?
Since hundreds of thousands of refugees came to Europe all at once, how can we know who they are?
Should we be afraid?
We naturally ask these questions. If I were to meet you in the street and say, “I want you to trust me”, your natural (and sensible) response would be, “Why should I?” It’s a lesson we learn quickly as children: Trust is to be earned, not assumed.
I remember one classmate telling me a story of how she got together with the cutest guy in the class. Later, she told me it was a lie, a test of friendship and I had passed. I thought to myself, Yes, it was a test — of your friendship, and you failed.
Every day, we consciously or subconsciously make decisions about who to trust. People gain our trust over time, but trust can be lost or broken in an instant.
Trust does not exist outside of relationship.
The talking heads do nothing to build this trust; they actually thrive on spreading fear. Trump tweeted about the terrorist attack in Berlin before police had named a suspect. Angela Merkel’s political opposition immediately began blaming Monday’s deaths on her decision to let the refugees in. And ISIL claims responsibility for the attack — effectively keeping people in fear, even if they’re lying.
Many refugees are afraid, too. They have fled countries to escape torture, religious persecution, bombing, and more. The majority of Syrians I have interviewed have asked me not to publish photos of their faces on the internet or on facebook because of how the Assad regime could use it to harm their families.
I will not live in fear nor will I be ruled by it. I refuse to let the narrative of one killer outweigh the narratives of many ordinary men, women, and children.
Again, this is a difficult topic to write about. You see, I spent this year getting to know refugees: men, women, and children from Syria, Afghanistan, and Iraq. I started Brother’s Keeper International and we’ve been blogging about refugees in Berlin all year, but it’s only now that people are paying attention to Berlin.
Looking for Answers, Building Trust
In September 2015, I traveled with a Syrian family for 10 days from Budapest to Hamburg. I wanted to help one family. I wanted to see the thousands with my own eyes and understand — who are they?
I was in the crowd of men, women, and children sitting in the aisles of the train from Hungary to Austria. Waiting for our late night connection in the quiet Salzburg station. Arriving in Munich long after midnight where every person received a personal & medical check before heading into the massive exhibition hall that served as emergency housing. Eating canned tuna fish and bread at 3 in the morning before catching a short 5 hours sleep on army cots lined up in rows.
There were lots of families, moms and dads holding their young ones with big eyes and brave dispositions. So very little crying considering how many young kids there were. The little girl in my group fell asleep and slept right through as she slowly slipped off her chair and onto the floor. The kids were utterly exhausted.
There were also many men, young and old. Within the mass of refugees, people traveled in smaller groups. The mother in my group kept her money in a pouch around her neck, nestled in her bosom. She warned me to sleep with my camera and valuables right next to my body.
She had the natural fear any mother would, alert to protect her family as they traveled in the midst of a mass of strangers.
After the journey, the refugees are placed in camps and they wait for their asylum application to be processed. It’s often 9 months or more before they are assigned a flat of their own.
The media covers hardly any stories of the waiting. The same meals being served day after day: slices of white bread with cheese. Apples, bananas, oranges, honey. Hot food that is always the same. Staff and refugees alike have told me, the food is bad. Edible, but bad.
Some of the refugees use their limited resources to buy hot plates, where they can cook themselves rice and make themselves stew. If the system were set up so they could all cook in the kitchen for themselves, it actually would be good for their dignity and boredom. But many are housed in converted office spaces, gyms, and schools, several families crowded into a big room, with individual spaces divided by portable partitions. Sometimes the refugees improvise further with sheets.
Making Space for the Unheard Stories
I’ve tried to fill in some gaps from what I’ve learned from my firsthand experiences with refugees and in refugee homes. But as to knowing refugees, understanding who they are and where they come from — that is only possible when we stop skimming headlines & tweets, and take the time seek out their stories and listen.
So I’d like to introduce you to a few — click on the photos to read their stories.
For more stories like this, follow Brother’s Keeper International on Instagram & Twitter.
If you made it all the way to the end — thank you. For real. :)
And if you *really* are a fan, please recommend ♥, share & follow — let’s make space together for these unheard stories!
