Syria Today | Chasing Dreams

Chasing Dreams

Words Dania Akkad
Photos Adel Samara

Bashar al-Homsi and Manal Araman

Sitting together on a park bench, boyfriend and girlfriend Bashar al-Homsi and Manal Araman, both 22, have very immediate dreams. “I wish for a park that is only for lovers where no one interferes with what they are doing,” Bashar, who works as a graphic designer, said. According to the couple, their most essential dreams are like those of their fellow young Syrians: they want to have good jobs, settle down in a house with a family and have a general sense of prosperity – hopefully together, they agreed. But the couple, who both live in the Damascus suburbs, aren’t all about the practical and the ordinary. Manal, who is studying to become a lab technician, wants a car. Not to get to work or school, but so that she can drive very, very fast and far away. And along with his park for lovers, Bashar said he would like to see more democracy in the world. “Especially in America,” he said. “You can say whatever you want, but nothing will change. Now that George Bush is gone, I have some faith in Barack Obama.”

Marwan Salha

He’s never flown in a plane and he doesn’t like travelling. Nevertheless, Marwan Salha, 18, decided as a child that he wanted to be a pilot and is now on his way to flying high in the sky. “It’s just every time I see a plane, I get an itch,” he said. Marwan’s dream is not as pie in the sky as it sounds: despite his slightly unusual ambition, his family has always backed him, pledging to support him in any way possible. Presently studying for his baccalaureate in Abu Rumaneh and living in Abbassiyin, Marwan knows he’s lucky to come from a background that will allow his dream to become a reality. In several years he plans to head to the US, possibly Florida, which houses some of the best flight training schools in the world. Eventually, he plans to return to his homeland and fly for Syrian Airlines. If all else fails, Marwan has a secret dream: to join the Mafia. He’s learned so much about the crime organisation through movies and television, especially the godfathers of New York. “I don’t like the Sicilian Mafia which is boring and strict,” he said. “I like the way the New York Mafia plans for things.”

Noor ad-Din Fares Ibrahim

Noor ad-Din Fares Ibrahim, 19, wishes his life would speed up and run as fast as the computers he loves so passionately. “We are now in the computer age, the speed age,” he said, serving tables at a café where he works most mornings, following a long commute from Yarmouk. “I think abroad it will be faster because the system moves in a different way.” After years of lonesome, eye-blurring hours spent with his computer – including an experiment that resulted in an explosion, which the ever-curious Noor thoroughly enjoyed – he hopes to study in the US and pursue his dream of becoming a computer engineer. In between his job and the five hours a day he spends on his computer, Noor studies information technology and believes his travels abroad are about two years away, if he can find the money. His family thinks he ought to study foreign languages instead. “Sometimes I get tired,” he said. “Of course, everything needs energy. Sometimes, I’m nervous it won’t happen.” Or, perhaps, that it won’t happen fast enough.

Dana Tenbakje

Strident 18-year-old student Dana Tenbakje sasses around Damascus in silver boots reminiscent of an astronaut and fitting for someone set on a life of serious travel. Since she was 15, Dana has dreamed of opening her own travel agency. She wants to send Syrians off to other parts of the world and bring in foreigners to show off her country. And she wants to travel a bit too. “I’ve got a feeling I will succeed,” she said. “I know that it will be quite difficult, but I’m excited. I think women can succeed better now because there are a lot of men who live off their girlfriends. I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself.” She said she plans to open her agency – it will simply be called Dana – in Muhajareen after she gets her masters in business. And then she marched off in her silver boots.

Yahyeh Qassem

Yahyeh Qassem’s life might seem like a dream to other people: as one of the state-employed caretakers of parks in Damascus, the 26-year-old spends every day outside. “I feel fresh,” he said. “It’s a nice view. There are always entertaining people.” But, in the end, it’s just a job and in his perfect world he would like to have another. He would like a car so he could work as a taxi driver and make more money for his family. Right now, Yahyeh, the grandson of a Palestinian who fled that country in 1948, supports his family, including his wife, two children and one of his brothers, with a monthly income of SYP 9,000 (USD 194). “I don’t have enough money and life is getting more expensive,” he said. “The salary from the government is not keeping up.” Yahyeh said he was successful in secondary school, but was forced to quit in order to assist his family financially. Looking out at one of the parks he grooms for the enjoyment of others, he said another job would allow him to relax more and smell the roses too.