Over the last two weeks, the incredibly popular Facebook Page, Humans of New York (HONY) covered stories from Syrian Refugees who had just entered different countries in Europe -- mostly Greece. Was anyone else following it? Some of the most heart-wrenching stuff I've read in the past little while 
He starts off with this six-parter:
Right after that he follow up with this:
There's a lot more on both the Facebook page and Tumblr. It's a really insightful look into what people are going through as they try to find refuge and something I've kept in mind whenever reading about the crisis.
He starts off with this six-parter:
I want to begin this refugee series with a post from the summer of 2014. This is Muhammad, who I first met last year in Iraqi Kurdistan. At the time, he had just fled the war in Syria and was working as a clerk at my hotel. When war broke out, hed been studying English Literature at the University of Damascus, so his English was nearly perfect. He agreed to work as my interpreter and we spent several days interviewing refugees who were fleeing the advance of ISIS. As is evident from the quote below, I left Muhammad with the expectation that hed soon be travelling to the United Kingdom with fake papers. I am retelling the story because I have just now reconnected with Muhammad. He will be working again as my interpreter for the next ten days. But the story he told me of what happened since we last met is tragic. (1/6)
The fighting got very bad. When I left Syria to come here, I only had $50. I was almost out of money when I got here. I met a man on the street, who took me home, and gave me food and a place to stay. But I felt so ashamed to be in his home that I spent 11 hours a day looking for jobs, and only came back to sleep. I finally found a job at a hotel. They worked me 12 hours a day, for 7 days a week. They gave me $400 a month. Now I found a new hotel now that is much better. I work 12 hours per day for $600 a month, and I get one day off. In all my free hours, I work at a school as an English teacher. I work 18 hours per day, every day. And I have not spent any of it. I have not bought even a single T-shirt. Ive saved 13,000 Euro, which is how much I need to buy fake papers. There is a man I know who can get me to Europe for 13,000. Im leaving next week. Im going once more to Syria to say goodbye to my family, then Im going to leave all this behind. Im going to try to forget it all. And Im going to finish my education.
(August 2014 : Erbil, Iraq)
Before leaving for Europe, I went back to Syria to see my family once more. I slept in my uncles barn the entire time I was there, because every day the police were knocking on my fathers door. Eventually my father told me: If you stay any longer, they will find you and they will kill you. So I contacted a smuggler and made my way to Istanbul. I was just about to leave for Europe when I received a call from my sister. She told me that my father had been very badly beaten by police, and unless I sent 5,000 Euro for an operation, he would die. That was my money to get to Europe. But what could I do? I had no choice. Then two weeks later she called with even worse news. My brother had been killed by ISIS while he was working in an oil field. They found our address on his ID card, and they sent his head to our house, with a message: Kurdish people arent Muslims. My youngest sister found my brothers head. This was one year ago. She has not spoken a single word since. (Kos, Greece)
(2/6)
For two weeks my tears didnt stop. Nothing made sense. Why did these things happen to my family? We did everything right. Everything. We were very honest with everyone. We treated our neighbors well. We made no big mistakes. I was under so much pressure at this time. My father was in intensive care, and every day my sisters called and told me that ISIS was getting closer to our village. I went completely crazy. I fainted in the street one day and woke up in the hospital. I gave the rest of my money to a smuggler to help my sisters escape to Iraq. Now I only had 1000 Euro left and I was stranded in Turkey. My father recovered from his operation at this time. He called me and asked how Id paid for his surgery. I told him that the money came from a friend. He asked if I had made it to Europe. For the first time ever, I lied to my father. I didnt want him to feel guilty about his surgery. I told him that I was in Europe, and I was safe, and there was nothing to worry about. (Kos, Greece)
(3/6)
After I told my father that Id made it to Europe, I wanted nothing more than to turn that lie into the truth. I found a smuggler and told him my story. He acted like he cared very much and wanted to help me. He told me that for 1000 Euros, he could get me to a Greek Island. He said: Im not like the other smugglers. I fear God. I have children of my own. Nothing bad will happen to you. I trusted this man. One night he called me and told me to meet him at a garage. He put me in the back of a van with twenty other people. There were tanks of gasoline back there, and we couldnt breath. People started to scream and vomit. The smuggler pulled out a gun, pointed it at us, and said: If you dont shut up, I will kill you. He took us to a beach, and while he prepared the boat, his partner kept the gun pointed at us. The boat was made of plastic and was only three meters long. When we got on it, everyone panicked and the boat started to sink. Thirteen of the people were too scared to go. But the smuggler said that if we changed our minds, he would keep the money, so seven of us decided to go ahead. The smuggler told us that he would guide us to the island, but after a few hundred meters, he jumped off the boat and swam to shore. He told us to keep going straight. The waves got higher and higher and water began to come in the boat. It was completely black. We could see no land, no lights, only ocean. Then after thirty minutes the motor stopped. I knew we all would die. I was so scared that my thoughts completely stopped. The women started crying because none of them could swim. I lied and told them that I could swim with three people on my back. It started to rain. The boat began to turn in circles. Everyone was so frightened that nobody could speak. But one man kept trying to work on the motor, and after a few minutes it started again. I dont remember how we reached shore. But I remember I kissed all the earth I could find. I hate the sea now. I hate it so much. I dont like to swim it. I dont like to look at it. I hate everything about it. (Kos, Greece)
(4/6)
The island we landed on was called Samothrace. We were so thankful to be there. We thought wed reached safety. We began to walk toward the police station to register as refugees. We even asked a man on the side of the road to call the police for us. I told the other refugees to let me speak for them, since I spoke English. Suddenly two police jeeps came speeding toward us and slammed on the brakes. They acted like we were murderers and theyd been searching for us. They pointed guns at us and screamed: Hands up! I told them: Please, we just escaped the war, we are not criminals! They said: Shut up, Malaka! I will never forget this word: Malaka, Malaka, Malaka. It was all they called us. They threw us into prison. Our clothes were wet and we could not stop shivering. We could not sleep. I can still feel this cold in my bones. For three days we had no food or water. I told the police: We dont need food, but please give us water. I begged the commander to let us drink. Again, he said: Shut up, Malaka! I will remember this mans face for the rest of my life. He had a gap in his teeth so he spit on us when he spoke. He chose to watch seven people suffer from thirst for three days while they begged him for water. We were saved when they finally they put us on a boat and sent us to a camp on the mainland. For twelve days we stayed there before walking north. We walked for three weeks. I ate nothing but leaves. Like an animal. We drank from dirty rivers. My legs grew so swollen that I had to take off my shoes. When we reached the border, an Albanian policeman found us and asked if we were refugees. When we told him yes, he said that he would help us. He told us to hide in the woods until nightfall. I did not trust this man, but I was too tired to run. When night came, he loaded us all into his car. Then he drove us to his house and let us stay there for one week. He bought us new clothes. He fed us every night. He told me: Do not be ashamed. I have also lived through a war. You are now my family and this is your house too. (Kos, Greece)
(5/6)
After one month, I arrived in Austria. The first day I was there, I walked into a bakery and met a man named Fritz Hummel. He told me that forty years ago he had visited Syria and hed been treated well. So he gave me clothes, food, everything. He became like a father to me. He took me to the Rotary Club and introduced me to the entire group. He told them my story and asked: How can we help him? I found a church, and they gave me a place to live. Right away I committed myself to learning the language. I practiced German for 17 hours a day. I read childrens stories all day long. I watched television. I tried to meet as many Austrians as possible. After seven months, it was time to meet with a judge to determine my status. I could speak so well at this point, that I asked the judge if we could conduct the interview in German. He couldnt believe it. He was so impressed that Id already learned German, that he interviewed me for only ten minutes. Then he pointed at my Syrian ID card and said: Muhammad, you will never need this again. You are now an Austrian! (Kos, Greece)
(6/6)
Right after that he follow up with this:
My husband and I sold everything we had to afford the journey. We worked 15 hours a day in Turkey until we had enough money to leave. The smuggler put 152 of us on a boat. Once we saw the boat, many of us wanted to go back, but he told us that anyone who turned back would not get a refund. We had no choice. Both the lower compartment and the deck were filled with people. Waves began to come into the boat so the captain told everyone to throw their baggage into the sea. In the ocean we hit a rock, but the captain told us not to worry. Water began to come into the boat, but again he told us not to worry. We were in the lower compartment and it began to fill with water. It was too tight to move. Everyone began to scream. We were the last ones to get out alive. My husband pulled me out of the window. In the ocean, he took off his life jacket and gave it to a woman. We swam for as long as possible. After several hours he told me he that he was too tired to swim and that he was going to float on his back and rest. It was so dark we could not see. The waves were high. I could hear him calling me but he got further and further away. Eventually a boat found me. They never found my husband. (Kos, Greece)
There's a lot more on both the Facebook page and Tumblr. It's a really insightful look into what people are going through as they try to find refuge and something I've kept in mind whenever reading about the crisis.
