Mohammad Ghazaw

full interview

Okay. Can you tell me about your housing situation? Where do you live? Who do you live with? 
You mean my situation here?

Yes, concerning housing. 
Currently, we live in the Ypsilanti/Ann Arbor area. When we first came, we arrived at a hotel. Then we  moved to this house, and we are still living in it. I live with my wife, son, and my daughter. We are four individuals who live in an apartment composed of three rooms, two bathrooms, and a big living room. We are very comfortable with it, thanks to God.

Okay, I am glad that you are comfortable. Can you tell me how you spend your time? Do you work? Do you study? Are you learning English? 
I work as a driver for the Ford company. I take the workers to and from Ford plants. In my free time, I study English on the internet. Sometimes we go out. We are trying to live with the community and to integrate into the new society around us. 

That’s great. I am glad that everything is working out for you. Can you tell me about the whole situation? Working, studying, and being with your family. How does it make you feel? 
Actually, it feels perfect! We are gradually adapting to the new situation. The only hard thing is our memories in our homeland. Except for that, everything is suitable. There is hope and a quality life exists. I can work to live a decent life. I mean, it is very excellent. Moreover, integration with the community is getting better. The more I integrate with the community, the better life becomes. 

Perfect. Can you tell me what are the things you enjoy doing? Like hobbies, things like this. 
For someone my age, the primary thing I care about is to do my best in my work. Also, as a Muslim, I am committed to memorizing the holy Quran according to the Sunnah of the Prophet Muhammad. I am also trying to be loyal and comply with the do’s and don’ts and orders of Islam, so I can acquire Allah’s pleasure in both this life and the afterlife.

That’s beautiful! Thank you for sharing that with me. How has life been since you came here? 
The most remarkable thing with life here is the concept of freedom. I mean, you will find churches and mosques, so you can practice your religious rituals freely. There is mutual respect between people and no one harms you or messes with you. Therefore, if you show high morals in treating others, people will do likewise with you. The more you live in this country, the more beautiful things you will discover.

Beautiful, beautiful. Do you mind if I put the recorder on the table? The noise from the swimming pool is interrupting the quality of the voice recording. 
Yes, you can move it.

Perfect. I know that you already answered some of this question, but what’s been very good about being here? 
Every aspect of life is positive here—except for the subsidized housing. I can’t understand why the government gives it to refugees after two years of their registration. Why don’t they consider granting this housing to newly arrived refugees until they are self-empowered? But other than that, everything is perfect. 

So the only difficulty you have faced is about housing? 
Yes, it is about housing.

Can you explain to me how living in America has made you feel? 
We feel safe and calm. You don’t need to worry about tomorrow or to be afraid of obstacles and problems. It is a country of laws. If you have any problems with the police or law enforcement, it will be resolved by the law. There are no major issues or concerns for us here in the U.S. Food and drink and basic stuff are available in abundance. We don’t need anything. The only thing we spend time thinking about is how we can live happily and in comfort.

Okay, perfect. I just want to circle back on one thing related to my last question. Can you tell me about some of the challenges you’ve faced here? 
Language is the major challenge for us, especially as older people; the complexity of the language is difficult for us. This is a great challenge, as without language proficiency, you can’t talk or integrate with people in society. I use the phone translator but it is not so good, not so bad. For me, language remains the fundamental barrier for effective communication and integration. 

I understand. Is your whole family here with you? 
No. My family consists of 11 members. I have nine sons and daughters, and two of them live with me here. I have a son who is married and lives in Carolina. His uncle lives there too. The rest of the family members live either in Jordan or Syria. 

Okay, perfect. I want to clarify one thing before moving to the next. You guys used to live together? All of you guys? 
Yes. (Okay. Yes, back in Jordan, they all used to live together.)
Our house in Jordan was big and consisted of two floors. Some of the family lived upstairs and the rest lived downstairs.

Okay, beautiful. Can you tell me how it feels to be away from that kind of being together? How does being away from your family make you feel? 
(How can you talk at such a great distance between you and the rest of your family?) 
This is our only concern. Being apart from our family is a sickness that has no cure. We would like to reunite with them and bring them here, but distances are long. And if we want to go and see them, we will need no less than five years to be able to do so—if we stay alive until that time…But bringing them here will only be by the will of Allah. 

Thank you. It is gonna be very difficult being away from your family. I know being away from your family is very hard. But how are you handling that? Like what are you doing to not feel it so much? Is there anything that you do? 
(So you said that being away from your family is so hard, but how do you cope with the situation? Do you do anything to stay in contact with them and make life here easier? I mean how do you adapt and live with the situation you are currently facing?)
We communicate over the phone. I use Facebook messenger to talk with them. But of course it’s a poor substitute for in-person communication. It’s like dust in the eyes. Staying away from your parents and children is a real and true pain, and the only ones who can understand it are those who have experienced it before. If you are traveling by choice, you may return when you want. But for us, we don’t have that luxury. I think the most difficult thing is separation. 

I am sorry to hear that and I hope that you reunite with your family soon. May God bring you together with them soon, if He wills. 
Can I explain one more thing?

Okay. 
Every Syrian individual who is away from his country, his children, or his brothers, has built a room in his mind called the Memories Room. He should pass by it on a daily basis. Night and day. It is like a pathway you need to walk through as you do anything during the day. You hold on to these memories to continue. 

That’s very powerful. Thank you very much for sharing that. Have you ever felt like you have faced discrimination here? 
(Thank you very much for your participation and good answers. We’re going to change the subject a little bit. We want to talk about some negative things. As you are in America, have you felt discrimination or racism to some extent so far?) 
No, I haven’t. 

I am happy to hear that. Thank God. We hope you don’t face any kind of discrimination.

Could you ever have imagined that you would have been able to handle this situation, being away from your family, creating this holy space in your head, thinking about the family and everything? Or how you would have handled the situation differently? 
(In the past, have you ever imagined that you would reach this stage? I mean, you in America and your family in another place. I mean have you thought it was possible that life would have gone in a different way, for example? How did you imagine your life before?)
If I could tell you a second saying, it is that we feel we are living a daydream. We never imagined leaving Syria at all. We couldn’t imagine leaving the country where we lived. All of a sudden, events happened very fast. The situation escalated quickly and we were no longer safe. We moved to Jordan. We stayed in Jordan for 11 years in the hope of returning, but there was no hope. So far, we feel as if we are living a dream, and we hope to return to the reality we used to live in—in which the individual is living among his family and is not away from them, and lives in comfort with his community. Suddenly, everything was flipped upside down. We still don’t believe what happened to us. We never imagined that we would arrive in America at all. We used to hear about America on TV only. It was a kind of imagination to come here. Even my relatives who have passed away, if they return to life, they would never believe that me and my family moved to America. Like my uncle, I am pretty sure that if he was still alive, he wouldn’t believe it at all! Even if you bring him to witness!

It is sad that you have to leave your country and seek safety somewhere else. But I am glad that you are safe. 
(It is very difficult when a person leaves his country and seeks asylum in a second place, staying away from all his family and acquaintances. But I am happy that you are safe.) 
One more thing I wanna ask you. You did say that you have created this memory room or you have that space in your head to which everyday you have to go, visit, and make sure you have all these memories—you know, to kind of cope with it and make you strong. Do you think you had this ability in you the whole time or this is something that you developed over time? 
Can you further clarify the room part? 

You mentioned that you have a memory room in your mind to go back to every day. Fifteen years ago, did you used to do the same thing or did you ever imagine you would have this ability to hold on to memories? Or were you forced to develop it in response to challenges you have faced? 
Especially for the last 15 years in Syria, the memory room has been difficult and full of pain in all of its forms. The conditions we lived in were difficult as well. Let me tell you something. When we left Syria for Jordan, we stayed in Zaatari camp in winter. It was snowing at that time. Can you imagine that your children pretend to be okay when you look at them, but when you turn your eyes away from them, they start to shiver from the cold? They don’t want you to feel how harsh the situation is. Imagine a little child who is three or four years old doing this in front of you, as he doesn’t want to increase the burden on you. All of these memories are stored within our minds. I remember when the tent had fallen over on us. I am talking about us as refugees. On the other hand, in Syria, difficulties were also abnormal and unbearable. I still remember the moments when my son lost his pulse and his breath from the cold weather. They announced his death and planned to bury him, but suddenly he came back to life—can you imagine? 

May God save him. 
May God bless you. While we were in Jordan, it took us about seven months of working to try to collect money for my son’s medical treatment. Until Allah returned him to us. Anyway, all of these are painful memories and I don’t want to talk very much about the details. But these painful memories themselves start to create a room in your mind and it is inevitable you will return to them everyday, trying to avoid the negative while holding on to the positive. I know a lot of people who live in safety now, but become afraid once you mention Syria in front of them. Others who left Syria when they were children still panic when they hear the sound of planes around. There is a lot of pain that we face; you witnessed death. You can never imagine what we went through!

I am glad that nothing happened to your son. I mean, that something happened but he was alive and recovered. 
(Thank God for your son’s safety.) 
May God bless you.

Okay, thank you so much for sharing that with me.The next question I wanna ask you is how do you think refugees are perceived here? 
So in terms of how Americans look at us: I know that even though I’m a new refugee here—a new arrival to the U.S.—every American came to this country somehow. If it wasn’t them, then it was their father, their grandfather, or great-great-grandfather. Everyone was new here at some point. And I think that really matters. Honestly, I haven’t felt a huge difference between me and someone who’s American. The hardest part is the language. But one thing I really appreciate is how people here are quick to help; almost everyone is happy to pull out a translator app on their phone. It’s like they’re used to talking with people who don’t speak English well. And I’m truly grateful for that. In general, I feel that in this country, if you stay out of trouble and try to live a good life, people leave you in peace—and that’s something I really value. One thing I find especially beautiful: back in Syria, in your neighborhood, you knew everyone—your neighbors, the shopkeepers—and you’d greet each other all the time. But here, in America, it’s different. You can just be walking down the street, and if you make eye contact with someone, even for a moment—what do they do? They smile. Everyone smiles here. And I love that. It makes people seem friendly and approachable. It’s so easy to talk to people.

Wow, that’s a very beautiful perspective from you. One small question that could be answered simply: do you feel safe here? 
Yes, I feel safe.

The mic didn’t catch it [haha]. Sorry for that. Alright, so those were the questions about the present; we are gonna go to the past. I know it will be a little bit overwhelming, but stop me wherever you would like. Why did you leave your country, and can you describe what happened? 
Before everything happened in Syria, we were living relatively okay. We were happy, at least to some extent. The government was definitely repressive, no doubt about that, but we tried to live with the situation as best we could. But eventually, things crossed a line. I am from a city where the revolution basically started. It began when the government kidnapped several children, kept them for a few days, tortured them horrifically, and then returned their bodies to the families—mutilated. My family lived in a village outside the city. It took a couple of weeks for the news to reach us about what had happened. But in Syria, like many other places, children are sacred. And when people learned that the government was torturing and killing children, it pushed so many of us to the edge. From there, things snowballed. The violence grew slowly but steadily, and it got closer and closer to us. I remember when it really hit home. I mentioned before that my son was shot. He was just 15 years old at the time. He worked at a vegetable stand with mostly tomatoes. One day, they got a shipment in, so he went out to help pick some up. He was walking with a group of friends—all teenagers around the same age—when they came across a Syrian military checkpoint. And as soon as the soldiers saw them, they opened fire. All the other boys were killed on the spot. My son was hit badly. The first responder who reached him described his back as looking like a map because of how many holes were in it. He did his best to stitch him up right there. But for everyone who saw him, they thought he was dead. Even the first responder said he was dead. Still, they evacuated him to try to get help. I found out what happened when a neighbor came to my door and said, ‘I’m sorry for your loss.’ I was shocked. ‘What do you mean?’ I asked. ‘Your son,’ he said. ‘I’m sorry about your son.’ My son was actually pronounced dead. He was dead for two hours—that’s what the doctor told us. But by God’s mercy, he came back to us. After that, the violence just became completely random and terrifying. You never knew who would be next. I lost neighbors. In one case, a group of people simply went to pray in a mosque, just a normal act, and the mosque was attacked. Four children were killed. That happened in my own village. With my son’s medical condition and the state of the country, we had no choice. We took him to Jordan for treatment. At the time, we thought we’d be there for maybe a month, just long enough for things to calm down. But that one month has now turned into 13 years. From Jordan, our journey continued—eventually bringing us here, to America. 

I am very sorry that you and your family have gone through all of that. It is a lot and it is not easy. 
I know I jump from topic to topic, but at that point, every day felt like a tragedy. Every moment was heavy. We were living through constant loss. We came from a small village of just 5,000 people; really, everyone knew everyone. And day by day, we kept losing people. More and more were dying. It was like the village was slowly disappearing. I carry so many memories from that time. They come back to me often, randomly. You could be watching TV, or just walking down the street, and suddenly something reminds you. A face. A sound. A moment. And just like that, you’re back there, reliving it. It’s hard to put into words how difficult that time was. Some pain never really leaves—it just finds quiet corners in your mind to rest in, until something stirs it back up again. 

Absolutely. Okay, I have two more questions. Before all of these events that happened that led you to flee your home country, what was your dream at that point? 
Back then in Syria, I worked in construction. My dreams and ambitions were simple, really simple. I just hoped work would get a little better, and maybe one day I’d move into contracting or something like that. But honestly, I’m a simple person. I come from a simple family. My biggest dream in life has always been the same: to raise my children well. To teach them how to be good people. To teach them to be good Muslims. To help them live a life that’s honest and dignified. That’s all I’ve ever wanted, and that’s the dream I hope to fulfill before I leave this life for the next.

May God bless you. Okay. Perfect. I just want to clarify one thing, so your dream was and is still the same? 
Yes, the dream is the same, but I have changed the delivery method to be remote. It is online now [haha].

Last question: at the very end, is there anything else that you would like to share with us? 
Like what?

Anything to add that might help other people understand your experience as a refugee, your journey from your home to the United States, anything you want to add. You can add anything that would make it easier for other people to better understand your situation, and understand refugees in general. 
Something I’d really like to add is that I wish refugees in this country had more support. Especially in those first one or two years, it’s a really difficult time. I think there should be a stronger system to help people get on their feet. In our case, we weren’t new refugees. We had already spent years in Jordan as refugees, and then we came here. When we arrived in the U.S., we barely had 10 dollars between all of us. Starting over with nothing is extremely hard. I tried to get government housing, for example, but there’s a long waitlist. And I truly feel that if someone arrives here as a refugee—with no home, no income, no safety net—they should be given higher priority for things like housing and basic services. At first, the organization helping us was amazing. For six or seven months, they supported us. They helped us settle in, took care of paperwork, and offered some financial assistance. But the moment that support ended, it felt like we just hit the ground hard. Now, every month is a struggle. Our rent is $2,000—and that’s not counting food, electricity, transportation, and everything else. This month has been especially tough, because since the beginning of the year, my work hours have been cut back. All I want to say is: refugees need more support. Because when you’re rebuilding your life from zero, it’s not just difficult—it’s nearly impossible without help. 

Thank you very much for answering all the questions. I am hoping you and all refugees get more support. 
(Thank you very much for your time and participation. We wish you success and goodness, and that your problems become resolved.) 
God bless you. Thank you.