Today is a Monday, I’m sitting on one of those classic Aussie share house glass tables in a dirty and chaotic backyard, drinking tea and smoking overpriced tobacco because the gov taxes the shit out of it, as if it stops anyone from smoking. Anyway, moving right along.
In a matter of days, I will board a flight and be magically transported to the lands of my ancestors, my beloved Damascus. I’ll be landing on the 03/03/2023 and that date wasn’t chosen by accident. I’m one of those annoying symbolic people and all those 3s are certainly not a coincidence.
You see, I chose this date because 3 and 13 have always been my lucky numbers. I arrived to so-called Australia on the 13/03/2013 and I haven’t set foot back home since that day. So of course I decided to go back exactly 10 years after I left, and I’m absolutely shitting myself.
My last winter in Damascus back in 2013
I know a bunch of you are thinking “but is it safe?”, “do you have to cover up?” and the dreaded “are there still houses standing in the city?”. The answers are yes, no, and yes respectively. It is safe to a degree, and I trust my family and friends to look after me. No, I do not have to cover up. Damascus is one of the oldest cities in the world and it’s existed long before Sharia law did, and will exist long after it’s gone. And finally, yes, houses do still exist and my house is safe. In fact, as you’ll see in future blogs, the city is very much alive and people live difficult but fulfilling lives.
Initially, this trip was only supposed to be for a month. A journey of reconnection with culture and childhood memories and a path to healing and closure. But after the earthquake and the subsequent crisis hit, the plan took a different turn. A few weeks ago I decided to cancel my return flight and rip the band aid off. It feels like it’s now or never.
In the true fashion of a young migrant refugee, I never had a gap year. For starters, we didn’t have a proper visa when I graduated high school, and my father, who had a big influence on my life back then, didn’t let me take a year off because “I would never go back to university”. Instead, I spent 5 years doing something I didn’t really like and I’m now the proud owner of a 38k student debt and a Chemistry degree.
For as long as I can remember, I’ve been dreaming of travelling. I almost did in 2020, but COVID hit and I wasn’t ready. I needed a couple more years of breaking down cultural barriers and accepting that I wasn’t going to fulfill the expectations my family and society had of me as a woman.
My first winter in Victoria, Australia mid 2022
Year after year, I compromised what I wanted to do for partners who didn’t know what they wanted from life. My loyalty and commitment intertwined to make a net that slowly caged me in, until I forgot that I had wings. But glimpses of adventure and mountain tops never ceased, and I cannot ignore this calling anymore, its sound is deafening.
It’s been a long journey to get to this day, and I’m beyond exhilarated that I’ve finally freed myself from the shackles inflicted upon me.
The dream of complete and unequivocal freedom is what drove me here. I deeply believe that if we’re quite enough, our hearts will show us the way. And I’m grateful that my heart has spoken.
So, I don’t know what the hell I’m doing or how long I’m going for, but I have no doubt in my heart that this is the right thing to do. My plan is to stay in Syria for a month and support the earthquake recovery effort, and from there I’ll be travelling to the Baltic region and onto to mainland Europe around June. I’m very interested in volunteering with grassroots organisations along the way and learning as much as I can from there, and of course communicating with you on this platform.
There is a bittersweet taste in my mouth as I say goodbye to everything I’ve known for the past decade and separate from a man whom I love very dearly. There is something very strange about leaving a stable career and a beautiful community for the search of the unknown, but I have to break my heart to set my soul free.
I’m aiming to publish weekly blogs at this point, and I’d love for you to join me on this once in a lifetime journey.
love and solidarity,
Nathalie
Written From: Melbourne, Australia
Next Stop: Brisbane, Australia