Oceans Away

Ban or no ban, Mideast refugees see welcome on both sides of the Atlantic

With activity on the US-Mexico border and the struggles of parents to find their children after Donald Trump's zero-tolerance policy outraging the world, the plight of Syrian refugees has faded into the background. But, all this time, the Republic of Ireland hasn't skipped a beat, quietly trudging ahead with a steadfast commitment to respond to the migration of millions of people from the Middle East.

In New Mexico, people working with refugees say Ireland is an example of integration and inclusion to look up to.

While Ireland is finding thousands of homes for Syrian refugees fleeing violence in their war-torn country, to the shock of our global neighbors, the US slammed the door on them under the Trump administration.

Even so, many New Mexicans are leaving their lights on and welcome wagons out. They're focusing, for now, on families from countries around the world who are already here and joining with the global community to build a lasting foundation of support—person-to-person.

One rare day in April when it isn't raining, the doors to the Abbeyfield Hotel in Ballaghaderreen, Ireland, are wide open.

A father sits outside watching his young daughter playfully roll around on a scooter.

Looking up, he smiles. "Welcome!" he says warmly in a rhythmic Middle Eastern accent. Inside the spacious lobby, a couple more toddlers happily scoot around. On one of the overstuffed couches, a teenager plays a video game.

At the settee next to him, three Irish women are knitting. Women wearing varied colored hijabs join them. Children look around shyly as their moms sit down.

It's the Knit and Click group organized by Ann Whelan, Regina Finn and Miriam Berry, volunteers for the refugee reception center that's been operating out of the Abbeyfield for the past year and a half. It is one of three refugee centers called Emergency Reception and Orientation Centers (EROCs) in Ireland. A second one is at the Hazel Hotel in Monasterevin in County Kildare; a third is at the Clonea Strand in Dungarvan in County Waterford. A fourth is in development.

Ballaghaderreen, pronounced Ballag-Hah-drEEn, means "the way of the little oak" in Irish.

Today, it also means "welcome," fáilte in Irish, to hundreds of Syrian refugees fleeing their war-torn country.

The war that began after the Arab Spring of 2011 has claimed 400,000 lives. Six million people have been displaced inside Syria, while five and a half million have fled.

"These are not people who have come to exploit us or set up a culture to conflict with us. These are people who are refugees, simple as that. They are people who are fleeing for their lives; they have come thousands of miles to get here," says Mary Gallagher, who owns a dress shop in the center of town.

Ballaghaderreen has a population of about 1,800. Located in rural northwestern County Roscommon, it's about a two and a half hour drive from Dublin.

I learned that the small western town was taking in hundreds of Syrians on a previous visit to Ireland while I was there researching my own heritage. My dad was from Ballymoe, a town south of Ballaghaderreen. He emigrated to the US in 1930, when he was 22.

Locals found out the Irish government had designated the Abbeyfield, a hotel that closed after the 2008 economic downturn, as a refugee welcome center, a few weeks before the newcomers started to arrive in February 2017.

Under a European agreement, Ireland has committed to resettling 4,000 Syrian people fleeing unfathomable violence. Since 2012, the country has spent more than 100 million euros—about $116 million—on the effort, according to a report this spring from the Irish government.

To understand why Ireland would step up, Gallagher says, "Just look at our history."

She recalls, a gentle lilt in her voice, "Do you know who we are? We are people who have had extremely hard times with the famine and mass emigration. If we don't know what it feels like to be like that, then we deserve to be someplace else. I hope we can open our hearts to them."

Ireland is about the size of Indiana, with a population of around 5 million. The United States has a population of 319 million with a land base around 140 times larger than the emerald island. In stark contrast to the Irish response to the Syrian crisis, as a candidate, Trump spouted campaign-trail racial epithets against people from Middle Eastern countries, promising to ban travel to the US by Muslims if elected.

Syrians were at the top of the list. True to his promise, once in office, Trump put the ban into place, slashing the number of refugees allowed into the country, along with funds for resettlement and support services.

"How shameful to see a genocide happening in front of our eyes and not act on it," says Samia Assed, a Palestinian-American who lives in New Mexico.

Assed advocates on behalf of refugees in her leadership positions with the Albuquerque Center for Peace and Justice, the Southwest Organizing Project and the Poor People's Campaign.

"It's very similar to what happened during the Holocaust and the Irish famine. It's heartbreaking," Assed says.

"It's a humanitarian crisis," says James Gannon, executive director for Catholic Charities of Central New Mexico, which has offices in Albuquerque and Santa Fe. "Their homes have been the war zones we've watched on TV."

When civilians came under attack in Syrian cities, people were so desperate to get out that hundreds drowned crossing the Aegean Sea between Turkey and Greece, and the 24-hour news cycle delivered images of their dead bodies on television.

Across the ocean, another James Gannon says the humane choice seems obvious and hardly religious or political.

"You don't have to close off and say no Muslims are going to come in anymore. That's an outrageous statement, you know," he says. This James Gannon is a firefighter in Ballaghaderreen. "I'm not suggesting that everyone can come and go as they please. We have to have securities at borders. But, when people are in trouble, you help them out."

When not on the job as a first responder, Ireland's Gannon is volunteering. He coordinates activities for the young men staying at the Abbeyfield with their families as part of the Friends of the Center, a group of around 50 volunteers.

Since February 2017, at any given time, an estimated 230 residents are temporarily living at the Abbeyfield until "forever homes"—family dwellings, host families or apartments in the city—can be arranged.

One of the Abbeyfield residents is 21-year-old Ghassan Shamet. He was in his teens and looking forward to going to college, hanging out with his friends and spending time with his family when his studies were done. Then, bombs started to fall on his home town of Deir ez-Zor, the largest city in eastern Syria.

Pointing to a picture of a demolished building on a city street there, he says with a look of deep dismay, "That was my home."

Shamet is tall and thin with big brown eyes. He has an upbeat personality and an energetic disposition. His smile is engaging. But, behind it, he worries day and night if his parents and younger brother and sister are safe.

"I miss my family too much. They couldn't leave, because we didn't have enough money for everyone to go. I haven't heard from them in a long time," he says.

Shamet was 14 when the war started in March of 2011, sparked by a violent military response to protesters calling for reforms and release of political prisoners. It's known as the Arab Spring.

Now, seven years later, the conflict that started with the Syrian government suppressing civilian protests has evolved into a multinational armed presence with combatants from Syria, Russia, the US, France, Saudi Arabia, Qatar, Turkey and Iraq, along with Hezbollah, federation, jihadist and rebel groups, to name some.

Serhat Cambaz, an engineer from Turkey who lives and works in Ireland and keeps close tabs on global news, offered his take on what it's all about—one that's not too uncommon, according to news sources.

"This is the real tragedy. The sad part; it is only for money. It's about oil. Nobody cares who is dying or who is surviving."

In February 2016 the Financial Times mapped Syria's oil holdings, showing some of the largest concentrations are around Deir ez-Zor, Shamet's hometown. When Shamet was nearly 18, his parents worried that he would get drafted into Bashar al-Assad's Syrian government army.

"My mom [and dad] don't like fighting," he says.

They saved enough money to get him out.

Ireland's Gannon is like Shamet's big brother and takes him, along with other young men staying at the Abbeyfield, on excursions—a sailing trip to Sligo, a semi-final football game in Dublin, and an international food festival.

"That was fantastic! We enjoy that!" exclaims Shamet, mentioning that Syrian, Zimbabwean and Irish foods were served.

"We have to keep the war out of their minds," Gannon says.

The US travel ban on people from Egypt, Iran, Iraq, Libya, Mali, North Korea, Somalia, South Sudan, Sudan, Syria and Yemen has been challenged by numerous lawsuits, lifted, changed, and most recently upheld by the Supreme Court in June.

The result is that the number of refugees from all countries allowed into the US yearly is at an all-time low. The door slammed hard on Syrian refugees in particular.

Based on State Department figures, the number of Syrians admitted to the US since the first of the year is 16; a drastic drop from just over 3,000 in 2017 and 14,192 a year earlier, most of whom were resettled in states other than New Mexico.

Lutheran Family Services is the only agency operating a refugee resettlement program in New Mexico, and it has assisted over 1,000 refugees from all over the world since 2012, according to its education director, Amy Foust.

The last time the agency resettled Syrian refugees, five families with a total of 42 members, was in 2016. Catholic Charities resettled only two Syrians before 2017, at which time federal funds dried up.

Now, much of the assistance is for those who are already here.

While only a handful of people from Syria are currently allowed entrance, there are newcomers coming in from Afghanistan and the Republic of Congo, says James Horan, vice president of Lutheran Family Services refugee resettlement services.

"New Mexico has been exceedingly welcoming to refugees. They are finding success in terms of initial settlement and long-term integration. We have clients who have opened businesses and purchased homes," he says.

Here's a look at what three other groups are doing to build a foundation of support for refugees seeking to rebuild their lives.

Santa Fe Refugee Collaborative

Miraj Bukhari-Frayer of Santa Fe says no matter where anyone is, they can step up and lend support to refugees resettling in New Mexico.

"Instead of looking outward where barriers have been put into place, [we] start from the heart. From there, breathe out and share," she says.

Bukhari-Frayer co-founded the Santa Fe Refugee Collaborative, a volunteer advocacy and support group, two years ago.

"I couldn't sit by and not do anything. The need is there," she says.

On the night of May 18, during Ramadan, a month of spiritual reflection for the Muslim faith, she and several other women and a young girl stand and kneel in prayer.

Imam Ibrahim Habach's melodic voice echoes over an intercom at the Masjid Al Rahma mosque.

At prayer's end, Bukhari-Frayer helps fill a table with an assortment of dishes, breaking the fast that began at dawn. Once ready, she sits down, loosens her delicate floral-patterned headscarf and smiles. She has a kind, gentle, patient voice.

"The Santa Fe Refugee Collaborative is about empowerment and building bridges between organizations and the refugee community," she explains.

The network includes links with a number of New Mexico organizations and businesses, including Catholic Charities, Lutheran Family Services, the ACLU, Santa Fe Council on International Relations, St. Bede's Episcopal Church, Syrian American Medical Society, Jambo Café and Tribes Coffeehouse.

With their support, there's been food, blanket and car seat donations and cultural exchanges, as well as partnerships that give newcomers job opportunities and legal services.

"Since they began, they've done everything from community education events to fundraising and gathering of supplies. It has been tremendously helpful. We welcome their support as partners," says Horan from Lutheran Family Services.

Catholic Charities

Upon hearing about Ireland's welcome and long-term planning for refugees who settle there, American James Gannon feels a kinship: "This is the way it should be so that they can become members of the community, productive participants and neighbors."

Catholic Charities changed its focus from a refugee resettlement agency to support services in 2017. He said the new programs revolve around volunteers.

"Like Gannon in Ireland, it's the volunteer who makes the difference," muses the New Mexico Gannon, who has Irish ancestry himself.

Using Canadian volunteer programs as models, Catholic Charities created the Team Refugee and Refugee Youth Mentoring programs wherein New Mexico professionals—journalists, doctors and chefs, for example—are matched with their peers from other countries.

"The idea is for the local career person here to give the newcomer advice, introduce them to contacts and help them reestablish their credentials," explains Gannon. "It's a natural fit. It shows them the ropes."

The program matches families with mentors who help connect refugees with job referrals, ESL classes and educational opportunities, for example. Right now, about 50 volunteers are paired with 100 newcomers.

UNM Refugee Well-being Project

Creating connections between newcomers and New Mexicans is also at the heart of the University of New Mexico's Refugee Well-being Project.

Jessica Goodkind, a professor in UNM's sociology department, founded the project after talking to numerous refugees about their challenges of resettling more than 12 years ago.

Since 2006, around 800 refugees have been matched with an estimated 250 students, noted project coordinator Brandon Baca, who himself was a student participant before getting a job with the project. The family he was matched with is from Burundi in Eastern Africa. Other participants' homelands include Iraq, Syria, Afghanistan, Rwanda, the Republic of Congo and beyond.

The program is an undergraduate and graduate course. During that time, families and students participate in weekly "learning circles" and family time.

Mohamad Ibrahem, Sumaya Amanpour and their children Ghadir, Mohmoud, Abdullah and Imad, ages 7 to 13, joined the project last November.

The family fled Syria in 2013. They traveled to Jordan and stayed three and a half years, before securing admittance into the US in July of 2016.

On a June afternoon, Sumaya has just made a pot of Arabica coffee and serves it in small delicate cups and saucers.

In the living room of their Albuquerque apartment, Abdullah and Imad take turns sitting next to Flora Feiluola, the family's student partner as she talks about the experience.

"The whole point of the program is for the student and the partner to learn from each other," she says. "I learn a lot every time I visit."

Mostly, she says she learns about positivity. "The family is always very happy," she adds. "I really aim to keep our friendship."

Sumaya's dressed in a royal blue hijab with white spiraling designs and a long matching dress.

She answers some questions in English and others in Arabic through the project's interpreter, UNM consultant Mohammed Alkwaz—a man who was also a participant in the Refugee Well-being Project as a refugee from Iraq who arrived in 2012.

"This program is very useful to us. Questions we have—say, with schools, health care, jobs—we can discuss within the learning circle. With this technique, everything is solved, because we have the right person to talk to," Sumaya says. "We learn about cultural differences. When we have issues, we ask Flora. 'What does this mean? Is it ok to do this?' and so on. She helps a lot with these things."

The biggest challenge is getting comparable jobs from the ones left behind, says Mohamad.

Before leaving Syria, he taught high school and ran a small business. Sumaya was a hair stylist. "[Newcomers] are looking always for a job," he says.

He suggests that language-friendly work sites would help the most, so families can earn a living while learning English.

New Mexico advocates and service providers say it's hard to know what the future will hold. But, in the meantime, the work continues.

Other agencies working with refugees in New Mexico are Immigrant and Refugee Resource Village of Albuquerque, the Albuquerque Office of Immigrant and Refugee Affairs, Artful Life Refugee Mentoring Project, United Voices for Refugee Rights (at the Center for Peace and Justice) and Global One To One.

"We're the welcome wagon. We are creating a system that will hopefully be built upon. What we're really trying to do is weave the newcomer into the fabric of the community," Catholic Charities' Gannon says.

Gannon said that he's happy his great grandparents settled in America from Ireland.

"They came over for opportunity and religious freedom," he says, "the exact same reasons these folks are coming today."

In Ballaghaderreen, the weaving Gannon talked about is well-sewn.

"I don't feel I'm a refugee here. I feel I'm Irish, too. It is lovely," says Shamet with a smile.

"I have made more good friends in the last 12 months than I would have in the last 20 years," notes Ireland's Gannon.

Ann, Regina and Miriam from the Knit and Click group have been down to visit Syrian families who moved into their "forever homes" in Cork and over to Ashburn, near Dublin.

"We intend to go to other places, like Donegal [on the west coast], to visit more families. We won't forget about them," says Ann.

Ireland recently opened up job opportunities to 3,000 asylum seekers. At the same time, the US struggles to undo Trump's zero-tolerance policy that separated 3,000 Central American migrant children from their parents as their families sought to flee violence at home.

Colleen Keane is a New Mexico freelance journalist who has reported for the Navajo Times, New Mexico In Depth, New America Street Press, KUNM Radio and Ireland's Roscommon Herald.

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