Not Everyone Gets to Go Home

By: Aisha Babalakin

November 18, 2013

At the beginning of my study abroad, I received the news that I would not be able to travel outside of Jordan for the full four months. The reason for this is complicated, but it comes down to bureaucratic issues. My Great Visa Struggle of 2013 is that, without American citizenship, I am unable to leave Jordan and re-enter as easily as my American peers. No matter how much I pay or how early I obtain a visa, the fact that I am not an American prevents me from traveling outside the country during my semester abroad.

I will admit it—at first I was very upset. I had previously saved up and had planned trips with friends to Turkey, London, and maybe even to surprise my roommate in Paris. I wanted to see the Gulf States and visit Beirut, and I had a great desire to see Palestine and especially Jerusalem even just once.

After a while, I stopped caring as much. There has never been a time that I am alone in Amman, even during our fall break. I can always count on a few friends to stay in the city with me, and believe it or not, we actually do have to get some work done over here.

When I learned that I could not travel, I began to plan trips within Jordan. The country's geography allows for a lot of adventures: one can visit the beach at the Dead Sea or go biking by the Desert Castles, visit the archaeological city of Petra or go camping in the mountains. Along its borders, you find the West Bank and Palestine, Iraq, Saudi Arabia to the south and Syria to the north. I have had many opportunities to visit these borders and view the countries on the other side.

Unfortunately, as a result of the conflicts in these neighboring countries, many refugees find a second home in Jordan. With thousands of Syrians pouring in from the north every week, and a well-established Palestinian refugee situation, it is mind- blowing to consider how many people have been displaced from their homes because of war, who now must find a home in Jordan. It is only a temporary home—Jordan has agreed to hold them until someone figures out what to do with them. The refugees are caught between a rock and a hard place: Jordan will never give them citizenship or the rights that come with citizenship, and they can never go home.

As the semester winds down, I always take comfort in the fact that I can go home soon. I will be back in the States by January, but I'll also spend my holidays in Lagos, visiting my grandparents and relatives who still live there. There's nothing like landing in the international airport on Lagos Island and feeling happy you're home. The insufferable heat greets you as you walk out of the airport, and at least an hour of traffic awaits you, but all you can think about is that you're finally home, where you are surrounded by people who understand you. We all know that feeling, and sometimes we take it for granted.

Most of the time, refugees cannot go home, because home isn't home anymore. For Syrians, home has been reduced to rubble, and for the Palestinians, home is another state, another country, another people. Visiting the Territories as a descendant of a Palestinian is a painful affair. At the border there is intense interrogation and vilification, almost to shame you about your heritage. In the end, the decision to let you in could be completely arbitrary, and then if it's a "no," there's that sad journey back to Amman or wherever you came from.

I do understand the principles of sovereignty, the necessity of security, and the problems concerning instability in the region, and I am fully aware of why such strong security measures exist in the first place. However, if this study abroad has taught me anything, it is not to disregard the gargantuan refugee situation in this part of the Middle East. At some point, we all just want to go home.

Opens in a new window