It was a cold night, a night like no other with the sound of the wind and a severe winter cold, and a few drops of rain falling on my eyeglasses — enough to blur my vision and some snow decorating a few of the hills that surrounded us. I was thinking: “Where am I and what have I done? Have I done something wrong or not?”
I could feel my wife’s hand shivering and I couldn’t help thinking that these shivers belonged to our unborn son already feeling the cold, the bitterness of being a stranger in this land, a refugee. Inside me, the spirit of the father came out and re-directed my mind. I felt like a lamp being connected to an electric current.
We head towards the small steel room to receive our meals and four blankets. I tell them my wife is pregnant — four is not enough — and he handed me five. We placed one blanket underneath us and two blankets to cover each of us, in a tent with no warmth or comfort. Its walls were made of nylon and its floor covered with dirt. And the ceiling — if the skies rained, you felt as if you were standing under a hail of bullets coming down on a large surface of around 50 meters or more.
I would sleep, then wake and have conversations with my wife — my partner in the misery of asylum. Then we would cry once again, our feelings scattered between the end of the danger of war and the feeling of loss of the soul of your family, your loved ones and your country.
Age: 26
Country of Origin: Syria
Host Country: Germany
Civil Status: Married to Alaa, with two children (wife and children in Jordan)