Ismael

From my travel journal in Amman, Jordan, April 4th... 

It’s going to be difficult for me to describe just how dynamic the experience of listening to Ismael Siyan, a Palestinian refugee in Jordan, really was. He was only a few years older than us, but he exuded a kind of passion for life and determination to radiate hope and achieve success that was very evident as he talked to us. Ismael lives in Gaza Refugee Camp in Jordan with his family, who has migrated twice: first in 1948 from Palestine to Gaza, and then again in 1967 from Gaza to Jordan. “The right to return moves from generation to generation,” he said. “My father still has the keys and deed to our property in Palestine.” That said, many of the refugees feel that they are part of Jordan now, but face daunting obstacles here as well, making me realize that often times gaining the right to stay can be just as vital as gaining the right to return. 

Ismael told us how refugees are not given same citizenship rights as other Jordanians even if they have lived here for generations -- for example, he has no “national number” (a kind of social security number). He explained to us how, because his family does not live within the legal geographical boundaries of the Gaza Camp (which have been easily outgrown by the integrated, increasing refugee population), he was not able to apply for certain scholarships and programs that would enable him to finish the education that he wanted. He told us of his deep frustration when he had gotten some of the highest marks possible in school that should have allowed him to become an engineer -- but his family could not afford the high costs without any aid. An even further point of discouragement for refugees here, Ismael explained, was that even if you did succeed in finishing a higher education, it would be next to impossible to get employed and make a living -- not matter how bright you proved yourself to be. This has resulted in widespread apathy, disheartenment, and hopelessness among the refugees who perceive that they are caught in a vicious cycle of oppression. In Ismael’s story, however, he was eventually able to find a school where he could study education and psychology (“I’m a very ambitious person,” he grinned. “I wasn’t going to give up, even though I felt depressed by everything”). He realized that he could no longer blame his family for his aggravating situation, and ended up deciding that he wanted to help the camp that he had once so detested. “Everyone can complain, but hardly anyone wants to do anything about it."

In an abandoned building within the camp, Ismael and a few friends began a fitness center to teach their fellow refugees about nutrition and exercise and health awareness, help them work out, and give them something to do. This was revolutionary for his camp. Women, too, were welcome in the new gym, where they were also taught classes that equipped them with skills to make and sell products. Ismael emphasized to us that even if it seems you are trapped in bad circumstances, there is always something that you can do to improve the situation. His commitment to creating and bearing hope for his fellow refugees was truly inspiring -- and beyond that, Ismael exuded an indefatigableness that was riveting and made you think that he would continue to do amazing things with his life as long as his vision and hard work continued.