Outside my friend waits for me. I get into his car and we depart towards the airport in Amman, almost an hour away from my home. After exiting the urban areas, the roads become empty and surrounded by plains. The memories of my first entry to Jordan come back to me — when my wife and me had to cross border wires on a plain like this.
I reach the airport and go through the common check-in procedure from screening to the weighing of the bags, and finally the exit stamp on my passport and signing a paper granting me with exit with no return because I am Syrian and had been in Za’atari refugee camp. After stamping my passport, the airport officer invited me to cross and wait at the departure gate.
I passed the officer while looking back and I could see my body walking and moving towards the gate, but my soul standing on the other side saying goodbye. I felt like it was at waving me with its hands. The soul refused to travel with me and instead stay in Jordan with my family. Time flies quickly and the airport speakers were calling on passengers to board the plane. This was the first time I saw a plane up close and it was going to be the first time I would travel on one.
Moments later, I was on the plane, taking photographs and listening to the instructions of the flight crew. Once in the air, I watched Jordan from above and inside me, my heart finger pointed to where my family was. I found out later that at the time of takeoff, my wife and kids were pointing at one of the planes in the sky and my wife was telling them, “Look, that is Baba in the sky. Pray that he reaches safety.”
I spent two hours on that plane, taking images of the sky and listening to music for memories. Heart beats fast and in another instant, calm and feelings of relief and comfort. Nothing at this point was clear: I was on my way towards the unknown.
After the two hours, I arrived to Turkey and my passport was stamped. I was now on Turkish soil, in Istanbul. I bought a bus ticket to Izmir in the south – a coastal city on the Aegean Sea, and through it the crossing to Greece. The journey on the bus took 12 hours and when I got to Izmir at 8:00 am, one of my friends took me to his house to stay until I prepared myself for riding the sea and traveling to Greece.
That same evening, I was ready to make the move, but the trip was cancelled on the beach, as the rubber boat I was to take was not functional due to a leak. Water was coming in and the engine had been damaged. There were 35 other people with me on that journey.
We had to wait on the beach while the person in charge left to get a new boat and a new engine. He was a liar and once he left, he never returned. We slept on the beach and in the morning, the coast guard found out about us and took us to the nearest police station where they photographed and fingerprinted us. They asked us who the organizer was and we said we didn’t know — we truly didn’t — because we had only met him at a market. In the evening, they dropped us at the Izmir city center oand I returned to my friend’s house to rest. Two days later I made another attempt to cross the sea to one of the Greek islands.
Age: 26
Country of Origin: Syria
Host Country: Germany
Civil Status: Married to Alaa, with two children (wife and children in Jordan)