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matilde campodonico/ap 76 AMERICAS quarterly issue 1, 2016 Sharing a laugh: Syrian refugee Nada Alshebli (right) jokes with a Uruguayan companion.

AQ_Winter 2016-Syrian Refugees

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matilde campodonico/ap76 AMERICAS quarterly issue 1, 2016

Sharing a laugh: Syrian

refugee Nada Alshebli

(right) jokes with

a Uruguayan companion.

AQ0116F_SYRIA_LAY14B.indd 76 1/13/16 6:29 PM

IN LATIN AMERICA

Profi lesEssa Hassan

MEXICOAlshebli Family

URUGUAYAli JeratliBRAZIL

Perfect StrangersThe cultural connections from waves of migration.

PolicyRecommendations

The door is open but the path is unclear.

SPECIAL SECTION

The Syrian refugee crisis is one of the great humanitarian causes of our time. In Latin America, many countries have welcomed migrants with open arms. In the following pages, AQ looks at the success stories, the challenges, and the ways all of us could do more to help.

AQ0116F_SYRIA_LAY14B.indd 77 1/13/16 6:29 PM

ESSA HASSAN LANDEDin Mexi co City in the middle of a media storm.

Days aft er the body of three-year-old Aylan Kurdi washed ashore on the coast of Turkey, Hassan became the unwitting symbol of Mexico’s eff orts — or lack of them — to assist Syrian refugees, although plans to get him to Mexico started long before the world zeroed in on the crisis.

Hassan arrived last Sep-tember through the Proyecto Habesha, a humanitarian initia-tive with the goal of bringing 30 Syrians whose studies were interrupted by the confl ict to complete their education in Mexico. The fi rst to be accepted, he quickly found himself the subject of news coverage. “I’m still in the news,” the 26-year-old told AQ.

Hassan’s journey began in March 2012 aft er fi nish-ing a library sciences degree at Damascus University. No longer a student, he had two choices: leave the country or fi ght. He fl ed to Turkey and then Lebanon, where he met Adrián Meléndez, co-founder of the Proyecto Habesha, which aims to give students the educa-tion they need to rebuild Syria.

As Hassan helped translate materials, he found himself wishing he could be selected for the initiative. But his jour-ney only got more complicated.

Following an infl ux of refu-gees to Lebanon, Hassan left for Italy on a temporary visa and was stuck there undocumented for a year. Aft er months of delays and a stop in Ecuador, he fi nally arrived in Mexico.

Today, he studies Spanish at the Panamerican University in Aguascalientes. Additional students were expected to join him for a “cultural dialogue” course, but at the time AQwent to press, no others had arrived in Mexico. Despite community support through its #EnMéxicoSePuede social media campaign, the Proyecto Habesha is struggling to raise funds to bring the other 29.

Meléndez believes the government could do more. The Mexican Commission to Aid Refugees registered just 16 Syrians in 2013 and 2014. “Mexico has a proud history of off ering asylum,” he said.

“Today there is no action.”Meanwhile, Hassan is braced

for a long absence from his homeland. “When you see the blood, you know it’s not going to end any time soon,” he says. He hopes to get a master’s in social engineering and make a contribution in Mexico. “The fi rst goal for me really is to give something back.”

Carin Zissis is editor-in-chief of AS/COA Online. She is based in Mexico City.

| MEXICOTHE LONE STUDENTby Carin Zissis

78 AMERICAS quarterly issue 1, 2016

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ginnette riquelme/reuters

A warm welcome:

Hassan is greeted

upon arrival in Mexico

City (below left). Proyecto Habesha

uses social media to

garner support (left).

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URUGUAY’S INVITATION in late 2014 sounded like a dream to the Alshe-

bli family, who had been living in a cramped Lebanon apart-ment for more than a year since they fl ed Syria. Not only would all 17 Alsheblis receive asylum, they would also be given a spa-cious new home and two years of income assistance.

But it didn’t take long for a series of cultural and fi nan-cial shocks to leave them feeling defeated. A year aft er arriving, family patriarch Merhi Alshebli was still unemployed, his children were struggling to integrate, and he felt trapped. During a meeting with offi cials to discuss their situ-ation, he doused himself with fuel and threatened to light himself on fi re unless Uruguay helped them leave — even if it meant returning to Lebanon.

“What can I do to buy food for all of my children?” the 51-year-old later said during an interview with AQ at his government-pro-vided home in the countryside.

The Alsheblis’ frustration was not unusual for the 42 Syr-ians granted asylum by Uruguay in 2014. Life was pricier than expected; the Alsheblis’ fi rst elec-tricity bill consumed much of their stipend. Rules were strange; only aft er investing in a sheep herd did Merhi learn it was ille-gal to let them roam free to graze, forcing him to sell the few that didn’t starve. Merhi’s daughters

started a street food business, but a rumor of food poisoning forced them to close.

By September 2015, they’d had enough. The Alsheblis and other Syrians protested in Montevi-deo, demanding to be relocated. The government said they were free to go, although it would not ask another nation to accept them, limiting their options. Merhi’s threat of self-immolation esca-lated tensions; he was treated for a nervous breakdown and fi ned a month’s worth of assistance.

Despite the strains, Uruguay plans to accept more Syrians — although the Alsheblis’ ongoing struggles are a cautionary tale. As AQ went to press, the family was negotiating to be relocated to a farm where Merhi might raise sheep and start earning an income before their government stipend ends in late 2016. Meanwhile, Merhi’s children have taken on the burden of supporting the family. His 19-year-old daughter, Nada, found work in a nursing home, while his 21-year-old son, Ibrahim, gave up his dream of studying electronics to work in construction.

“What will happen when the government aid runs out?” Ibra-him wondered. “I spend the days thinking it over and over.”

Leonardo Haberkorn is a prize-winning investigative journalist for the Associated Press in Montevideo.

ALSHEBLI FAMILY | URUGUAYDREAMS ON HOLDby Leonardo Haberkorn

matilde campodonico/ap80 AMERICAS quarterly issue 1, 2016

Holding on to hope:

Merhi Alshebli at

Independence Square

in Montevideo.

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WHEN ALI JERATLI arrived in São Paulo in February 2014, the Syrian refugee

understood just one word of Portu-guese: bem-vindo (welcome). He had no contacts, no guidebook, and no more than $700 to make a new start aft er fl eeing the war in his homeland.

But the outgoing Jeratli, then 26, possessed resourcefulness, determi-nation — and a bit of luck. The fi rst month he was in Brazil, a friendly conversation at a bar led to an invita-tion to live with a Brazilian family at their house on the city outskirts.

Within a few months, Jeratli, one of more than 2,000 Syrians granted asylum by Brazil since 2013, had become profi cient in Portuguese by jumping into every class on off er from local refugee-assistance organi-zations. That paid off in spades when one day on the São Paulo metro he struck up a conversation with a fellow rider, who immediately invited him to a job interview. Jeratli followed the man into a building where a woman tested his fl uency in Portuguese, Eng-lish and French.

“Then she told me, ‘congratula-tions,’” recalled Jeratli, “I said, ‘Why? Where will I work?’ She said, ‘You’re going to work at the (2014) World Cup.’ I told her to pinch me.”

Jeratli, an avid soccer fan, was hired to give translation assistance to inter-national attendees to all six matches in São Paulo, even getting on-fi eld access. “This is one point in your life you’re going to remember forever,”

Jeratli said. “You’re going to say to your son and to everybody how you were at the World Cup.”

His language skills have since led to jobs teaching English and Arabic at the local language school Abraço Cultural, which employs refugees as teachers. Jeratli said he would like to return to his former profes-sion in hotel management, but local businesses won’t recognize his for-eign university degree and a national recession has undermined the job market. Still, with the money he’s saving, Jeratli hopes to get his own apartment and fl y his parents and sis-ters to São Paulo from Syria — unless the war’s end allows him to return there fi rst. “Even in paradise,” he said,

“a Syrian would say: I want to go back.”Until then, nostalgia won’t stop Jer-

atli from embracing Brazil. Refl ecting on his fi rst two years in his adopted country, Jeratli believes he has found success by learning the language and culture of his new compatriots and embracing Brazil’s extraordinary hos-pitality. He is now imparting those lessons as Brazil expects thousands more Syrians to arrive. Jeratli pitches in at several São Paulo organizations that provide refugees with social assistance and language training. “I’m trying to help them,” he explained,

“because I know what it’s like when you’re alone and know nothing.”

Stephen Kurczy is a special correspondent to Americas Quarterlyand is based in Rio de Janeiro.

ALI JERATLI | BRAZILA WORLD CUP SUCCESS STORYby Stephen Kurczy

paulo fridman issue 1, 2016 AMERICAS quarterly 83

On the go: Jeratli

(left) helps newly

arrived refugees

adjust in São Paulo.

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84 AMERICAS quarterly issue 1, 2016

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Syrian refugees

watch the 2014

World Cup on TV

in Lebanon (left). A yerba mate gourd (below).

THE FIRST TIME I STEPPED into a Syrian home, I was greeted by a family drink-ing Argentine yerba mate and watching a popular Mexican soap opera dubbed

into Arabic. It was the summer of 1998, and I was in Syria researching Levantine migration to Latin America. Evidence of that migration wasn’t hard to fi nd. As that year’s World Cup got under way, Brazilian fl ags unfurled from many balconies in Damascus — in honor of relatives who had moved to São Paulo and other Brazilian cities.

Those family ties stretch back as much as 150 years. Arabs have been migrating to Latin America, establishing cultural connections, and contribut-ing to Latin America’s development since the 19th

century. Today’s infl ux of Syrian refugees — while a new source of debate — is only the latest chapter in a long history.

The fi rst wave of Middle Eastern migration to Latin America lasted from the 1860s through 1914, when about 600,000 Arabic speakers from the Levant resettled in the Americas, spurred by socioeconomic and demographic factors that con-verged with the decline of the Ottoman Empire. Subsequently, the 1948 establishment of Israel, the Lebanese Civil War (1975–1990), and related confl icts fueled new waves — particularly to Chile, Argentina, Brazil and Paraguay.

Some migrants later returned to their home countries, bringing back with them traces of Latin

Perfect Strangers THE SURPRISINGLY DEEP CENTURY-OLD TIES BETWEEN LATIN AMERICA AND THE MIDDLE EAST

by Ch ristina Civantos

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issue 1, 2016 AMERICAS quarterly 85

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America, such as mate and even given names. In Damascus I met a Syrian student named Mario whose brother and sister were Marco and Caro. Later, I dis-covered that half the inhabitants of Mario’s village had a close family member who lived, or had lived, in Venezuela — drawn there by the country’s oil boom (1950s–1970s).

Returning migrants may have been infl uenced by early 20th century ethnic tensions that, in some countries, took the form of discriminatory social, legal, and/or immigration practices. In Argentina, for example, the stereotype of the “wily” Levan-tine immigrant peddler created a lasting association between “turcos” (immigrants from the Ottoman Empire) and corruption. Hence, the corruption scandals of former Argentine President Carlos Menem — nicknamed “el turco” despite being the son of Syrian Muslim immigrants — were blamed by some on his ethnoreligious origins.

Nonetheless, positive associations with Arab immigration to Latin America are forged by fi gures such as Mexican billion-aire Carlos Slim and Colombian superstar Shakira, both of Lebanese extraction. Help-ing to open the door for today’s Middle East migrants, Shakira has called the cur-rent displacement of Syrians “one of the greatest humanitarian crises of our time” and summoned the world to action. Building on historical ties, Latin America is well-positioned to respond positively to her plea.

Christina Civantos is a researcher and associate professor of 19th- and 20th-century Spanish American and Arabic literature and culture at the University of Miami.

Palestinian refu-

gees stand in

line at a camp in

Lebanon during the

Lebanese Civil War.

Colombian singer

Shakira has called

on nations to

work together to

address the crisis.

Today’s infl ux of Syrian refugees is only the latest chapter in a long history.

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86 AMERICAS quarterly issue 1, 2016

Experts from across the region recommend ways to improve refugee resettlement.

by Stephen Kurczy and Sarah Bons

1Coordinate regional response. Latin Amer-ica has already shown the ability to come together on this issue, agreeing in Decem-

ber 2014 on a regional plan to assist refugees. But since then, the response to the Syrian crisis has been fragmented, said Renata de Melo Rosa of University Center of Brasília. A new regionwide summit would be helpful in building consensus. A roundtable could highlight best practices, address political tensions, and recognize limitations indi-vidual countries face. For example, Colombia, which has taken in approximately 100 Syrians, lacks capacity to accept a large number of foreign refugees, given its approximately 6 million people displaced internally, said Stephane Jaquemet, rep-resentative of the U.N. High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR) in Colombia.

“Some people still think refugees are running away because they owe some money, and we have to make them realize that they’re running for their lives.”

—André Fabrin

de Almeida Leitão

5 IDEAS TO BOOST LATIN AMERICAN REFUGEE POLICY

MANY LATIN AMERICAN coun-tries deserve the world’s gratitude for opening their doors to Syrian refugees. Their generosity and

humanity stand out at a time when many other countries are turning people away.

But what happens aft er the refugees arrive? How can governments help new arrivals get jobs, avoid discrimination, and prosper over time? AQ asked experts from across Latin America and interviewed several recently arrived refugees in an eff ort to gather recommendations and best prac-tices — many of which don’t cost much money. Here are a few of the suggestions we heard.

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issue 1, 2016 AMERICAS quarterly 87

Maria Cristina

Morelli

Stephane

Jaquemet

Luisa Feline

Freier

2Combat misinformation.Many countries have embraced campaigns

to inform their citizens why Syrians are seeking asylum. But misinformation and misunder-standings persist. “Some people still think refugees are run-

ning away because they owe some money, and we have to make them realize that they’re running for their lives,” said André Fabrin de Almeida Leitão, founder of a nonprofi t assisting Syrians in São Paulo. Similarly, refugees should be informed about cost of living, job availability, and basic cus-toms in their destination country.

3Streamline bureaucracy. Brazil’s fast-track humanitarian visa allows Syrians to get a visa within days and “is recognized by UNHCR as

an example to the region and the world,” said Luiz Fernando Godinho Santos, the agency’s spokes-person in Brazil. Other bureaucratic processes, such as work documentation, could be sped up, added Maria Cristina Morelli of the Reference Center for Refugees at Caritas Arquidiocesana de São Paulo. But beware of negative side eff ects from trying to shorten bureaucratic processes, warned

Luisa Feline Freier of Pacifi c University in Peru. She cited how Ecuador in 2012 created unrealis-tically short application deadlines for asylum seekers, preventing many from gaining refugee status until the system was reformed again in 2014.

4Supply basic infrastructure. In hubs like São Paulo and Buenos Aires, establishing large-capacity welcome centers could help

integrate refugees into national systems and pro-vide relief to overwhelmed local organizations. The São Paulo branch of Caritas, for example, received 6,629 refugees and asylum-seekers from 1993 to 2014; in just the fi rst half of 2015, that fi gure skyrocketed to 5,644, stretching staff thin and creating a backlog of requests. “We could have an area where we could receive these people with more dignity,” said Leitão.

5Provide tools to succeed. Access to basic needs, such as housing, language

instruction, schooling, health screening, vocational training and career services, are crucial for integration, all experts agree. This can be challenging for cash-strapped governments, but budget-friendly approaches exist. In Brazil, the nonprofi t Abraço Cultural trains refugees to be foreign language teachers. In Mexico, Proyecto Habesha is work-ing to bring a group of Syrian students to fi nish university in order to help reconstruct Syria post-confl ict. Jaquemet off ered another low-cost idea: Establish a sponsorship program so families or cul-tural centers provide temporary shelter and other assistance, as Canada is doing.

Stephen Kurczy is a special correspondent to AQ and is based in Rio de Janeiro. Sarah Bons is an editor at AQ.

“Brazil’s fast-track visa is recognized by UNHCR as an example to the region and the world.”

—Luiz Fernando

Godinho Santos

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