from Riverbend, an Iraqi refugee in Syria:
22 October 2007:
The first weeks here were something of a cultural shock. It has taken me these last three months to work away certain habits I'd acquired in Iraq after the war.
It's funny how you learn to act in a certain way and don't even know you're doing strange things - like avoiding people's eyes in the street or crazily murmuring prayers to yourself when stuck in traffic.
It took me at least three weeks to teach myself to walk properly again - with head lifted, not constantly looking behind me.
It is estimated that there are at least 1.5 million Iraqis in Syria today. I believe it. Walking down the streets of Damascus, you can hear the Iraqi accent everywhere.
We live in an apartment building where two other Iraqis are renting.
The people in the floor above us are a Christian family from northern Iraq who got chased out of their village by [Kurdish fighters] peshmerga.
The family on our floor is a Kurdish family who lost their home in Baghdad to militias and were waiting for immigration to Sweden or Switzerland or some such European refugee haven.
The first evening we arrived, exhausted, dragging suitcases behind us, morale a little bit bruised, the Kurdish family sent over their representative - a nine-year-old boy missing two front teeth, holding a lopsided cake.
"We're Abu Mohammed's house - across from you - mama says if you need anything, just ask - this is our number.
"Abu Dalia's family live upstairs, this is their number. We're all Iraqi, too... welcome to the building."
I cried that night because for the first time in a long time, so far away from home, I felt the unity that had been stolen from us in 2003.
it's exactly the type of thing you'd expect, except it's so compelling. i think i'm hormonal today. it really did make me tear up. god.
i found the link to Riverbend Blog through this bbc article. read them... one girl, Sunshine, is my sister's age (15). how incredibly incredibly depressing.
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