After the awakenly and depressing look into one of humanities darkest times, we had the chance to visit a refugee camp. We brought them pastries to share over coffee and started a conversation to learn about the conditions that had brought them to their current situation. We asked some questions and we listened, above all we listened. We bared witness to their stories.
That particular camp housed male refugees from a dozen nationalities. After a group conversation with a few refugees from Nigeria I (obviously) “escaped” my group and ventured around the camp. Driven by empathy and curiosity I searched for a more organic conversation that I felt could only happen in a more intimate atmosphere.
While walking around the camp I ended up smoking cigarettes with a group of young Afghani refugees. About 1/3 of them spoke English and translated when someone that didn't wanted to say something. We immediately bonded over the Spanish soccer team of my hometown (Barça). The genuine engagement that took place over cigarettes was without a doubt one of my most precious life experiences.
To look to another human in the eyes, to wordlessly show them your respect and the warming look of mutual acknowledgment; the non-verbal disposition, conveying both the physical and mental presence, openness and readiness to engage in a human to human conversation is one of the many experiences in life that have shown me that no matter where you come from or what language barriers may be in the way, there’s no stopping dialogue if both parts are willing to engage and connect in a humane way.
During our conversation we shared some of their life experiences, they told me some of the reasons that motivated them to leave their home country of Afghanistan, how was their journey as refugees, why they decided to come to Germany, how was life in that particular camp, their reception by the town’s citizens, how was the relationship between refugees of different nationalities, what they did for a living back home and what they did now and most importantly what were their hopes and dreams for the future.
One of the refugees was telling me about his former job at the I.T department of an American company back home when another young male came and told them that he was done cooking dinner. They kindly invited me to share their food and I happily accepted and walked towards their room while listening to another young man that told me about his fear of the Taliban. When we got to their room I told them I would be right back and walked back to were my group was and grab a few of the pastries we have brought to the camp. Amidst simple yet delicious spiced rice and chicken we continued our conversation, I told them how the food reminded me of my dad’s mediterranean cuisine. The food was great and they loved the cakes, the conversation was effortlessly fluid. We smoothly transitioned from personal stories and experiences to lighter subjects (Miami Beach life, sports, food…) and vice versa.
The young man that used to work for an American company in Kabul was working now doing inventory in the back of a small store. Such a significant career regression is usually regarded as something to pity, but only someone that understand fear of prosecution and survival instill will understand how despite the professional setback, the feeling of peace and the incomparable tranquility of the west utterly outshines the numerous sacrifices.
A chance to live in peace, away from prosecution, in an environment that allows personal growth is all these young men dreamed for and the fuel that drove them to continue struggling. Above all, they craved safety and a chance to live.
This was the most humbling and beautifully humane experience of my life and will always be grateful to Dr. Thiel and FIU for it.