Läs bildtexten I webbserien Marlon's Journey möter Marlon Langeland ungdomar på flykt från några av världens största kriser. Första resan gick till Libanon. Landet är något större än Östergötland och har, sedan Syrienkrisen började för sju år sedan, tagit emot cirka 1,5 miljoner syriska flyktingar. Här är Marlon i en inofficiell bosättning för syriska flyktingar i Bekaadalen. Foto: Ingebjørg Kårstad / NRC.

”Jag vet inte vad jag tänker. Jag skakar.”

Publicerat 29. nov 2018
Marlon Langeland, skådespelare från tv-serien Skam, stöter fram orden. Han har just träffat 20-årige Samar, som flydde från kriget i Syrien för fem år sedan.

Samar har funnit trygghet i Libanon, men inte så mycket mer. Hennes liv har kastats om totalt. Hon har slutat studera juridik och arbetar för att försörja familjen. Om hon någon gång tar upp utbildningen igen, har hon få möjligheter att utöva sitt yrke i Libanon. Orsak: Hon är syrisk flykting.

Från krig till ett liv på paus

19-åriga Marlon finner inte riktigt orden, han är märkbart påverkad av det hon har berättat. Inte konstigt, när allt du vet om krig är vad du har sett på tv eller läst på internet och i böcker.

Precis som de allra flesta i Norge och Sverige.

Nu står hon framför honom - en som har känt kriget i kroppen. Samar har just berättat för Marlon om mannen hon älskade i Syrien. Han var på besök hos vänner, när huset de befann sig i blev bombat. Han dödades.

– Samar hade allt framför sig, hon skulle studera. Hon hade hittat den person hon verkligen älskade, och så blir allt helt motsatt. Den du älskar dör, blir dödad!

Marlon är uppenbart upprörd under inspelningen av den första episoden av serien Marlon's Journey till Instagram-TV.

Se hela avsnittet här.

I webbserien möter han ungdomar på flykt från några av världens största kriser.

Första resan gick till Libanon. Landet är något större än Östergötland och har, sedan Syrienkrisen började för sju år sedan, tagit emot cirka 1,5 miljoner syriska flyktingar.

”Hon hade allt framför sig, hon skulle studera. Hon hade hittat den person hon verkligen älskade, och så blir allt helt motsatt. Den du älskar dör, blir dödad!”
Marlon Langeland
This is Samar. A 20-year-old girl from Idlib in northern Syria. In 2012, she escaped the war in Syria and fled to safety in Lebanon with her family. She now lives in a tent in an Informal Tented Settlement (ITS) in the Bekaa valley with her parents and five siblings. “My family and I left Syria because of the fighting and to save the children and remain alive. I felt sad and it was painful to leave my country, my friends, and relatives”, says Samar.   

“When I was younger I dreamt of becoming a lawyer but after I fled from Syria this dream was crushed. I am the breadwinner of the family now, so I can't tell them I want to pursue my dream.” Instead of studying in University she is spending six hours a day, six days a week, doing manual labour in agriculture in exchange for living for free on the land of the farmer. Samar and her sister are the breadwinners of the family of eight since her father is unable to work because of his poor health. The main income is from the food allowance from the World Food Programme and also UNHCR CASH programme. 

“I worry a lot about my father because of his health condition. I worry about my grandma who is still in Syria. I worry about not being able to renew my residency permit. I worry about the situation in Syria. I worry about my friends in Syria because they are far away from me.”

The war did not only crush her dream of becoming a lawyer, it also stole the love of her life, Said. The man she was about to get engaged to. The love of her life. “I had pictured my life with this man to be very beautiful. Any girl would have dreamed about it. He had a good personality, he was elegant. Every time when I used to see him I felt true happiness.” Said got killed in an explosion. “I feel a huge sorrow. The first two years were very difficult for me. I couldn't accept that it happened,” Samar says quietly. “At first when I think about him, to our memories, I feel happiness. But then, I feel sorrow because this is something that I lost, he is gone. After Said died, I don't trust anymore, I haven't been able to believe in love anymore.”

Despite her worries and her sorrow Samar has a drive in her to make the future better. “I am always optimistic for the future, I will never stop my optimism,” she smiles. “Said, may his soul rest in peace, used to love me because I was always an optimist. Life has to continue no matter what and he never liked to see me sad. He loved to see the smile on my face and not that I would be depressed.”
			
So, Samar uses her optimism and drive to make life better for her family and the ones living in her ITS. She is an IFP (information focal point) for NRC. “I help people with hygiene promotion practices, I give them awareness session, and I encourage them that we together should help out to collect garbage to prevent diseases. If a fire breaks out, I put it down. If someone hurt themselves I support with first aid. I check the latrines to make sure they are clean. I give the children hygiene promotion session about how to wash their hands. Also, if parents want to register their children in school I help them. If someone needs to get to the hospital I support them.  If someone wants to do birth registration I help them talk to the lawyers,” explains Samar. In addition to this, she also teaches a young girl in the ITS to read and write. 
Samar dreams of moving back home to Idlib. “Syria was very beautiful, anyone would have wished to live there. It was very safe. Boys and girls would be out playing till late nights with no problem. No one would cause them harm. Syrian people were very generous and they had high manners. Life was very beautiful. However, I am afraid that Syria won't return to what it was before.”				
	
Photo: Ingebjørg Kårstad/NRC.
Läs bildtexten Samar har funnit trygghet i Libanon, men inte så mycket mer. Hennes liv har kastats om totalt - hon har slutat studera juridik och arbetar för att försörja familjen. Foto: Ingebjørg Kårstad / NRC.

    

Under press: 1 av 4 är flyktingar

Idag är en fjärdedel av befolkningen i landet flyktingar. Trots att många känner sig trygga i Libanon, är livet fortfarande på paus. Så många som 74 procent av syriska flyktingar över 15 år i Libanon saknar papper om uppehållstillstånd - det är för dyrt. Det betyder att de har få möjligheter att fortsätta sin utbildning, få ett jobb och starta ett nytt, normalt liv i Libanon.

– Även om du har utbildning är det svårt att få jobb i Libanon om du är syrisk flykting. De har få möjligheter att arbeta och kan bara ta arbete inom jordbruk, bygg eller andra säsongsarbeten. De som saknar papper på uppehållstillstånd har begränsad tillgång till sjukvård och utbildning och de kan inte röra sig fritt, berättar Racha El Daoi, kommunikationsrådgivare för NRC i Libanon.

Landet är under enorm press för att täcka humanitära behov såsom utbildning, tak över huvudet och mat till alla dem som har sökt sin tillflykt här. Nu lever hela 76 procent av de syriska flyktingarna under fattigdomsgränsen.

Läs mer om flyktingsituationen i Libanon och NRC:s arbete i landet här.

– Situationen för flyktingar i Libanon blir nu allt värre, sju år in i den syriska flyktingkrisen. Därför är det helt avgörande med internationellt stöd och hjälp, för att möta landets humanitära behov, säger Racha El Daoi.

Men Samar vägrar låta hennes liv stanna upp, för att hon är på flykt i ett främmande land. Det är hon skyldig den mannen hon älskade, säger hon. Han hade önskat att hon kämpade vidare för att göra drömmarna till verklighet.

– Hon är ett fantastiskt exempel på en stark person. Hon har så många odds emot sig, men fortsätter att jobba, kämpa och se dem hon älskar, säger Marlon.

    

When Osama was 15 years old he fled from the war in Syria together with his parents and four siblings. Now, five years later, he is 20 years old and has just seen his dreams for the future shattered yet another time. 

Osama grew up in the outskirts of the Syrian capital, Damascus. A modern, vibrant and stable city until the war broke out in 2011. He lived a normal life. Went to school. “My country was a nice place to live in. I reached grade 10 in this school. I loved being there,” says Osama. “We lived in an area like Beirut. There were buildings and streets, it was not a village. Our flat was on the ground floor, with three rooms and two gardens. It's awful, because when I was a child, I had a dream to build my future life in that area. I wanted to become a doctor, and open a clinic in my house. My father and mother used to tell us, my siblings and I, that we will transform the house into a medical centre, each room for each one of you.  But we cannot do it now. So, I should find alternative solutions, alternative dreams.”
				
“Maybe you heard about the chemical attacks in 2013? We were near the spot where the chemical attacks happened. After the attacks, president Obama said that he will attack Syria or some points in Syria, so we left. We decided to leave Syria for 3 months, we hoped that the condition in our country would become safer. But the conditions stayed the same, not stable.”
			
“Maybe I should start with the positive things. I am a student in the university. I got a scholarship here. My family is with me. I am sure this is a good thing. My friends' families stayed in Syria.” The dream of becoming a doctor and open a clinic is put on hold for Osama. “Now, I am a computer science student, maybe I will find myself there. I hope I can open a mobile school to teach people.” To be closer to university, Osama lives in a shared flat with nine other Syrian youths in central Beirut. They are close knit group who support each other through thick and thin. His family rents an apartment outside Beirut, and Osama spends his weekends there with them. 

For a Syrian refugee living in Lebanon, there are many limitations. Osama and his older sister are the breadwinners of the family and feel the big burden on their young shoulders. “Even if you found an opportunity to complete your education, and you have a master degree or a PHD for example to become a doctor, you are not allowed to work. Living here is very expensive, so you need a lot of money. My biggest challenge is that the economic situation is so bad, not for me, but for all the Syrian families.”, says Osama. 

“Maybe the bad things here, as a Syrian guy in Lebanon, there are a lot of regulations that restrict my life, which make me not like a normal guy. Right now, I don’t have an official residency, so I cannot go to every place I want. I entered Lebanon legally, but you have to pay $200 per year for each person above 15 years old for a residency permit. So, if your family consists of seven members like ours, you have to pay $1000 yearly. I didn't pay, so they took my passport and now I cannot move or leave this country.” 

Osama and his family have tried to find another way to build their future elsewhere. They applied for resettlement. After a long process, including two interviews, Osama got the phone call. They were rejected. “I feel I am in a big jail. Like an animal in a zoo,” says Osama with tears in his eyes.  The rejection was a big blow for Osama and his dreams for the future for himself and his family. “I cannot go back to Syria, and I cannot leave this country. So, I will try to live here.” Osama tries to think positive. “I consider Lebanon my second country, I love Lebanon so I want to serve this country. I want to build my family here. When I came here they said welcome, so I owe them one.”

Photo: Ingebjørg Kårstad/NRC.
Läs bildtexten Osama bor med nio andra syriska flyktingar i en liten lägenhet i Beirut, huvudstaden i Libanon. De har lyckats skapa en gemenskap, går i skolan och lagar mat ihop. De håller varandra uppe. Foto: Ingebjørg Kårstad / NRC.

   

Drömmen som sprack

Några dagar tidigare, på planet till Libanon, talar Marlon om pappan som kom till Norge som politisk flykting från Chile. Han vill förstå sin familjehistoria bättre, veta mer om innehållet som ordet flykting faktiskt är fylld med. Är det så som han sett det på TV? Hur länge är man på flykt? Hur bor man?

I Libanon förstår han att svaren är lika många som antalet flyktingar i världen. Medan Samar bodde i ett inofficiellt läger en timme utanför Beirut, möter Marlon Osama i ett anonymt hyreshus i den libanesiska huvudstaden.

De har båda stort, lockigt, brunt hår, de är lika långa och går med samma vaggande rytm i stegen. Marlon skrattar och kommenterar likheten.

Osama bor med nio andra syriska flyktingar i den lilla lägenheten. De har lyckats skapa en gemenskap, går i skolan och lagar mat ihop. De håller varandra uppe.

– Vi måste hjälpa varandra, studera, bli bättre, säger han.

Men för tillfället är framtidsutsikterna inte ljusa. Osama och familjen har precis fått avslag på ansökan om uppehåll i ett tredjeland - ett "nej" till drömmen om en trygg framtid, en vardag med jobb, studier och möjlighet att leva som vanligt.

Osama och familjen är en del av en dyster statistik. Få personer kommer genom nålsögat i kvotflyktingsystemet, även om lösningen är det enda lagliga och säkra alternativet för att få stanna i ett tredjeland.

   

Marlon and Osama at home in the flat where Osama's parents and siblings live utside of Beirut. 

When Osama was 15 years old he fled from the war in Syria together with his parents and four siblings. Now, five years later, he is 20 years old and has just seen his dreams for the future shattered yet another time. 

Osama grew up in the outskirts of the Syrian capital, Damascus. A modern, vibrant and stable city until the war broke out in 2011. He lived a normal life. Went to school. “My country was a nice place to live in. I reached grade 10 in this school. I loved being there,” says Osama. “We lived in an area like Beirut. There were buildings and streets, it was not a village. Our flat was on the ground floor, with three rooms and two gardens. It's awful, because when I was a child, I had a dream to build my future life in that area. I wanted to become a doctor, and open a clinic in my house. My father and mother used to tell us, my siblings and I, that we will transform the house into a medical centre, each room for each one of you.  But we cannot do it now. So, I should find alternative solutions, alternative dreams.”
				
“Maybe you heard about the chemical attacks in 2013? We were near the spot where the chemical attacks happened. After the attacks, president Obama said that he will attack Syria or some points in Syria, so we left. We decided to leave Syria for 3 months, we hoped that the condition in our country would become safer. But the conditions stayed the same, not stable.”
			
“Maybe I should start with the positive things. I am a student in the university. I got a scholarship here. My family is with me. I am sure this is a good thing. My friends' families stayed in Syria.” The dream of becoming a doctor and open a clinic is put on hold for Osama. “Now, I am a computer science student, maybe I will find myself there. I hope I can open a mobile school to teach people.” To be closer to university, Osama lives in a shared flat with nine other Syrian youths in central Beirut. They are close knit group who support each other through thick and thin. His family rents an apartment outside Beirut, and Osama spends his weekends there with them. 

For a Syrian refugee living in Lebanon, there are many limitations. Osama and his older sister are the breadwinners of the family and feel the big burden on their young shoulders. “Even if you found an opportunity to complete your education, and you have a master degree or a PHD for example to become a doctor, you are not allowed to work. Living here is very expensive, so you need a lot of money. My biggest challenge is that the economic situation is so bad, not for me, but for all the Syrian families.”, says Osama. 

“Maybe the bad things here, as a Syrian guy in Lebanon, there are a lot of regulations that restrict my life, which make me not like a normal guy. Right now, I don’t have an official residency, so I cannot go to every place I want. I entered Lebanon legally, but you have to pay $200 per year for each person above 15 years old for a residency permit. So, if your family consists of seven members like ours, you have to pay $1000 yearly. I didn't pay, so they took my passport and now I cannot move or leave this country.” 

Osama and his family have tried to find another way to build their future elsewhere. They applied for resettlement. After a long process, including two interviews, Osama got the phone call. They were rejected. “I feel I am in a big jail. Like an animal in a zoo,” says Osama with tears in his eyes.  The rejection was a big blow for Osama and his dreams for the future for himself and his family. “I cannot go back to Syria, and I cannot leave this country. So, I will try to live here.” Osama tries to think positive. “I consider Lebanon my second country, I love Lebanon so I want to serve this country. I want to build my family here. When I came here they said welcome, so I owe them one.”

Photo: Ingebjørg Kårstad/NRC.
Läs bildtexten Marlon och Osama har båda stort, lockigt, brunt hår när de möts i Beirut. Foto: Ingebjørg Kårstad / NRC.

    

”Du måste göra något för att överleva”

Mot slutet av besöket i Libanon har Marlon svårt att sortera alla intryck. Det liknar inte något som han har sett eller hört om förut. Samtidigt är det upplyftande att se att ungdomarna han möter har en viktig sak gemensamt:

– Oavsett var du är, måste du göra något för att överleva eller gå vidare med ditt liv. Det är precis vad jag sett här. Människor som arbetar med det de har och som vägrar att ge upp.

Racha El Daoi menar att det är viktigt och inspirerande att unga människor som Marlon använder sin tid till att skapa uppmärksamhet kring en särskilt utsatt grupp, som ungdomar på flykt.

– Att Marlon gör det här, gör det möjligt för oss att skapa medvetenhet om situationen för flyktingar. Vi kan öka kunskapen om Syrienkrisen och hur den påverkar ungdomar. Särskilt eftersom syriska ungdomar brukade ha ett ganska liknande liv som norska ungdomar. Ett liv med drömmar, ambitioner, hopp och planer för framtiden. Skillnaden är att krig har tvingat dem på flykt.

Se hela Marlon's Journey här.

   

       

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