We Crossed a Bridge and It Trembled: Voices from Syria

by Wendy Pearlman

Mixing pride, guilt, sorrow, courage, and hope, their pained words challenge us to think about who we might be if faced with the same trials of revolution, war, and exile. One wonders what might have been different had we listened to Syrians’ voices earlier. It is not too late to listen now.

The regime had no willingness to reform the problems in public universities. Instead, their answer was to open new private universities, which charged people thousands of dollars. The gap between rich and the poor just increased, and that added insult to injury.

We had gotten used to oppression. It was part of our life, like air, sun, water. We didn’t even feel it. Like there is air, but you never ask, “Where is the air?” A lot of people were opposed to the way things were, but no one protested. You just adapted to oppression and rotted along with it.

Even if the revolution failed, those days will never be forgotten. We’ll tell our children that we took a stand. We went out. We spoke out. We shouted.

Even the stones of the street were happy.

For forty years the regime had been working on segregating people by religion.

You know what it’s like, when you believe in a cause and you’re standing with people who also believe in it?

Blood is what moves people. Blood is the force of the revolution.

I’m not saying that the conscience of the international community is asleep. I’m saying that conscience doesn’t exist at all.

It’s been so long since I heard that someone died from natural causes.

It was like a vacation, but with bombing.

I have four kids, and the whole purpose of my future is to guarantee their future.

Why did they want money so much when they could die at any moment?

Believe me, if the world had helped us from the beginning, we never would have reached this point.

If I died this second, I wouldn’t care. Because I’ve reached a point in my life where I hate everything. I am disgusted by humanity.

We don’t have a problem with death. Our problem is life without dignity. If we’d known what was in store for us, we never would have come. But we did come, and now we can’t just return. There’s no way back.

It’s better to die once than die slowly every day.

Isn’t it enough our government destroyed us and we lost everything? We would prefer to stay in our country. If you don’t want refugees, help us make peace in Syria.

We’ve accepted the fact that we need to make our dreams smaller if that’s what it takes to keep dreaming.