These are our children, Part 2

“And then we ran away. Then we went in our home with our mothers. Everyone got in (the car). We carried some of our clothes. Then we came here (Istanbul).”

By Deryal Yuksel

In last Wednesday’s post , we introduced you to Hasan, Hatun, Hanna, and Ali, child refugees from Aleppo, Syria, who currently live in Istanbul, Turkey. Their story continues in this photo essay.

Unfortunately, most refugees experience indifference and neglect. We must recognize that change is never easy, especially if you are missing your homeland that no longer exists. It will make a big difference if we sharpen our senses and expand our outlook on humanity.  Take a moment to hear the stories of these four children.

*The quotes in the photo captions  come directly from the children and are translated into English.

“Then we carried our grandfather to the room. Then he died too.”

 

*Hasan taught me to sing one of his favorite songs in Arabic, Safer Ya Habibi. The translation of the song is “Travel my beloved, and return.”
“I am this many years old.”

 

“People take our photographs on the streets and then offer us money.”
“We moved to Istanbul four years ago.”
“We are bringing some clothes home.”
“The people here do not let us pose for their photographs the way that we would like to. They tell us to lift our arm, and do what they tell us to do and this bothers us a lot. They do not treat us right.”
“My father’s brother died. A bomb hit him and killed him.”
“My sister was born in our house in Turkey.”
“We are going to hang the photographs in our home.”
*On the streets, the children were offering small antique keys to promote peace.

Note from Kathie MM: I hope we will all do what these Syrian refugee children are requesting: Promote peace for all.  If we do not promote peace for everyone, there will be peace for no one.

These are our children, Part 1

“We came from Syria! We came from Aleppo!”

By Deryal Yuksel

Meet Hasan, Hatun, Hanna and Ali. They are refugees from Aleppo, Syria. They are lost between two lands, feeling accepted by none. Istanbul’s historic Balat district, is their new playground.

Sometimes words in newspaper articles are just not enough for us to understand the Syrian refugee crisis.  This series of shots depicts an individual perspective on the Syrian refugee crisis in Istanbul, Turkey.

I am so lucky that I can call these children my friends. We began taking photographs of each other on the street. All the photographs were taken for fun, and that is what makes them very real. I taught them how to use my camera. They taught me games and songs, but most importantly, they taught me to understand their hardships.

Unfortunately, most of the refugees experience indifference and neglect in societies. We all must recognize that change is never easy, especially if you are missing your homeland that no longer exists. It will make a big difference if we sharpen our senses and expand our horizons on humanity. So, please take a moment to learn about the stories of these four children.

*The quotes in the photographs (below) directly come from the children and are translated into English.

“My name is Hasan. I am seven years old.”
“My name is Hatun. I am nine years old.”

 

“My name is Ali. I am five years old.”
My name is Hanna. I am ten years old.”
“People always call us beggars. They say, look, look at the beggars begging on the street.”
“Our grandfather died while traveling to Turkey with us. We are very upset. God rest his soul.”

Deryal Yuksel graduated as a Psychology major from Boston University.  She is interested in street photography and the lives of the people she shoots, particularly Syrian refugees. There is a stigma in the country that needs to be broken, and she hopes to raise awareness with photography.

Shooting the right way at the Syrian border

By guest author Deryal Yuksel

12506919_10205606700907547_409107148_nI am a photographer, and a few months ago I was travelling around the Syrian border. There is no way I can go there now. Most of the towns I have visited have turned into warzones.

However, while there, I had the privilege of meeting some Syrian children who lived in the village of Harran, extremely close to the Syrian border. I saw many tents while we were driving near the border, tents that the Turkish government had provided for the refugees.

What should be kept in mind is that refugees are also ­humans, humans whose lives have been destroyed. Thousands of Syrians are helplessly trying to balance a small sack on one arm and their children on another. If they are lucky, they can hop the border with some of their belongings and their children. Not everyone makes it.

Some Syrian refugees try to reach the Greek Islands through the Aegean Sea via illegal boats that are not very safe. Most of the boats sink, and fishermen try to save the refugees but are unable to rescue all of them. Current news reports indicated that many bodies have washed up onto the shore.

About 2 million Syrian refugees have fled to Turkey. Some of them are on the streets of Istanbul as beggars and sometimes even threaten people for money. I personally was attacked during the light of day in a crowded place by a refugee. Also, my dad was attacked by a refugee while waiting for an ATM machine. So, some of the Turkish citizens dislike the refugees, and some citizens feel bad for them.

Some Turks are racist towards the refugees, even though they are both Muslim, so it is frightening to think what kind of reaction the refugees would receive in other countries like the United States, where people may think that the refugees will cause violence and terror in their nation. If there is no voice for the Syrian refugees, how can they communicate with countries asking for help? I believe that countries should cooperate with each other to find ways to help these refugees, these 3 million refugees.

Deryal Yuksel is a Psychology major interested in street photography and the lives of the different individuals she shoots. Currently, she is particularly interested in the Syrian refugees in Turkey. There is a stigma in the country that needs to be broken, and she hopes to raise awareness with photography. She took the photographs in this essay in Harran, Sanliurfa, Turkey.