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1 | Syrien: Min moder .. | Syria: My Mother, Alive |
2 | I live Denne artikel er en del af en særlig artikelserie skrevet af blogger og aktivist Marcell Shehwaro, som beskriver livets realiteter i Syrien under den væbnede konflikt, der udspænder sig mellem regime-loyale styrker og den frie syriske hær. | This post is part of a special series of articles by blogger and activist, Marcell Shehwaro, describing the realities of life in Syria during the ongoing armed conflict between forces loyal to the current regime, and those seeking to oust it. |
3 | Marcell Shehwaro og hendes mor på en plakat fremstillet og delt af den jordanske blogger Mohammed al Qaq på facebook | Marcell Shehwaro and her mother in a poster made and shared by Jordanian blogger Mohammed Al Qaq on Facebook. |
4 | Igen og igen udskyder jeg at skrive denne artikel, som skal handle om “moderen” og Mors dag. | Time and time again, I keep putting off writing this article. |
5 | For en, som har mistet sin mor til en dræbende kugle, er det ikke ligefrem terapeutisk at skrive om. | For someone who lost her mother to a lethal bullet, writing about mothers, and about Mother's Day, is not completely therapeutic. |
6 | Selv hvis vi enes om, at det at skrive har magiske egenskaber, så er nogle smerter bare uoverkommelige. | Even if we agree that writing has magical powers, some kinds of pain are simply too colossal. |
7 | De nedbryder din krop og din sjæl og ingen medicin kan kurere dem. | They wear down your body and soul, and are immune to medication. |
8 | | I tell myself that I would write about my mother before Mother's Day (observed this year in Syria on March 21) as I would then be more objective and neutral. |
9 | Jeg siger til mig selv, at jeg skal skrive om min mor før Mors dag. (Mors dag fejres i Syrien d. 21. marts red. | I don't know who it was, exactly, that told me I had to convey to you the burning reality of Syria with a professional coldness. |
10 | ) for så vil jeg være mere objektiv og neutral. | Of course I am not neutral in any of my positions. |
11 | Jeg ved ikke hvem, der har overbevist os om, at vi må være professionelle selv omkring vores smerter? | I am a daughter of this land, I have a mother buried in it, and I also have a memory. |
12 | Eller hvem der fortalte mig, at det er min pligt at formidle den brændende virkelighed i Syrien med kølig professionalisme? | And I have friends in prison, whose dreams have been shattered by a tyrant. Shards of those dreams have pierced me too. |
13 | Jeg udskyder at skrive artiklen indtil Mors dag, så jeg kan drage nytte af de følelser, der overvælder mig på netop denne dag og beskrive mine smerter for jer. | I postpone writing about Mother's Day in order to take advantage of the emotions that consume me on this day, which enable me to describe my pain. |
14 | Og måske jeg, i dette nye og voldelige stadie af sadisme, vil føle en snert af glæde, hvis nogen bagefter fortæller mig, at min artikel fik dem til at græde. | Perhaps, in this new and violent state of sadism, I might experience some happiness, should one of you tell me that my article brought tears to your eyes. |
15 | Det lykkes ikke for mig. | I fail miserably. |
16 | Lige til det sidste forsøger jeg at undvige at skrive med den undskyldning, at denne “Mors dag” er en dag som Hafez al Assad har opfundet. | Finally, I tell myself-in order to escape writing-that this celebration is a made-up day. |
17 | Han skiftede den internationale mors dag ud med denne dag, d. 21. marts, for på den måde at forhindre mit lands undertrykte kurdiske befolkning i at fejre Norooz. | Hafez Al Assad replaced International Mother's Day with this day in order to put an end to Norooz celebrations, which mark the beginning of Spring, by the downtrodden Kurds in my country. |
18 | Og vi beskyldes for at være besatte af politik? | And then we are accused of being obsessed with politics. |
19 | Hvordan skulle vi ikke være det, når selv vores familiære højtideligheder afgøres af en diktator? | How can we not be so when even our family celebrations are imposed upon by a dictator? |
20 | Min veninde Amira spørger til emnet for min næste artikel, og jeg svarer roligt: Min mor. | My friend Amira asks me about the topic of my next article. Without even thinking, I respond: My mother. |
21 | Jeg tvinger mig selv til at skrive om hende, og I har al ret til at hade, hvad jeg skriver, for jeg har skrevet det i et forsøg på at konfrontere min tristhed, ansigt til ansigt. | And I force myself to write. You have every right to hate what I am about to relate, for it was written as an attempt to confront my sadness. |
22 | Jeg gik til den, min tristhed, med en plan om at slå den ned, men den overvældede mig og efterlod en sorg i mit sprog, som jeg måske fører videre til jer. | I approached the task planning to smack it down, but it faced off with me, and left a residue of sorrow in my language, which I might transfer to you. |
23 | Min mor, Marina, var en husmor, som gentagne gange forsøgte at gøre os, min søster og jeg, til rigtige samfunds-damer. | My mother, Marina, was a housewife, who attempted many times to turn my sister and me into proper society ladies. |
24 | Det lykkedes med min søster. | With my sister, she succeeded. |
25 | Hun giftede sig med min far efter en smuk kærlighedshistorie med udveksling af kærestebreve, som endnu er gemt i huset i den besatte del af Aleppo, og som jeg derfor ikke kan nå. | Mother married my father after an endearing courtship in which they exchanged letters which still lie in a corner of our house in the occupied part of Aleppo, and which, as you know, I cannot reach. |
26 | Min mor var enebarn, og hendes forældre var blevet gift i en sen alder, og jeg plejede at drille hende med, at enebørn bliver ødelagt af deres forældres forkælelse, men dette var langt fra sandheden. | My mother was an only child, of parents who got married late in life, and I used to joke with her that an only child is usually spoiled by her parents. That was far from the truth. |
27 | Hendes forældre døde tidligt og efterlod hende alene uden nogen familie eller søskende, og derfor blev min søster, min far og jeg, alt hun havde af familie. | Her parents died early, leaving her completely alone, with no siblings or relatives. This made my father, my sister and me all she ever had in terms of family. |
28 | Hun vænnede sig til at leve som hustru til en religiøs mand, der altid insisterede på værdier, gode manerer og næstekærlighed, og hun holdte af ham for alle de detaljer, der var vigtige for ham, ligesom hun holdte af os for alle de diskussioner, hun havde med mig og alle de små beslutninger, som hun hjalp min søster til at træffe. | My mother, who was used to life as the wife of an Orthodox priest who always insisted on values, good manners and loving relations, took loving care of the details that were important to him. She cared for us lovingly as well, through all the arguments she had with me, and all the small decisions she had helped my sister make. |
29 | Min far døde tidligt af et hjerteanfald, som ikke engang gav ham en ekstra chance. | My father died young, after a heart attack which wouldn't even give him a second chance. |
30 | Med ét var han væk og overlod opdragelsen af to teenagere til min mor: Laila, som var på nippet til at stifte familie, og jeg, som var anderledes svær og selvstændig. | In the blink of an eye he left my mother, alone and with two girls to take care of. |
31 | Jeg ville altid diskutere stort set alting og blev flere gange bortvist fra skolen, fordi jeg nægtede at følge lærerens anvisninger eller skrev stil om, hvor voldelig vores skole var. | My sister Leila was about to start a family, while I was difficult, always independent and argumentative about everything. |
32 | I ni år boede min mor og jeg alene sammen, og vores forhold udviklede sig meget i denne periode. | I would be expelled from school for not assenting to the teacher's requests, or for writing an essay about how violent our school was. |
33 | Det var indtil revolutionen startede, og min mor allerede den første uge læste et indlæg på min blog med titlen “Vores folk fortjener friheden”. | After my sister got married and left home, for nine years my mother and I lived together by ourselves. |
34 | Her påtog hun sig rollen som mor og begyndte at rådgive og argumentere, og jeg spillede min rolle som rebel og nægtede at underkaste mig familiens pres. | Our relationship flourished during this period, until the start of the Syrian revolution, when she read a blog post I had written entitled “Our people deserve freedom.” |
35 | Mine venner og jeg var begyndt, med ryggen til kameraet, at fotografere os selv til demonstrationer, men selv på et uskarpt og rystet billede taget med en mobiltelefon kunne min mor stadig genkende mig. | At that point she started enforcing her role as a mother, advising and arguing with me. And I, in turn, began enforcing my role as a rebel refusing to succumb to family pressure. |
36 | Hun ville spørge: “Marcell, er dette dig, til en Salahuddin-demonstration?”, og jeg ville lyve og sige, at det ikke var mig, og hun ville lade, som om hun troede på mig. | My activist friends and I had started photographing ourselves during protests with our backs to the cameras, but my mother could still pinpoint me among the crowd of backs, even in a hazy photograph taken with a cell phone camera. |
37 | Min mor græd hver gang hun hørte den revolutions-sang hvis tekst lyder “Jeg går ud og demonstrerer med mit blod i mine hænder / hvis jeg kommer tilbage som martyr, mor / så græd ikke over mig”. | “Marcell, is that you at the Salahuddin protest?” she would ask. I would lie and say it wasn't me. |
38 | Hun levede for revolutionen sammen med mig, hun huskede navnene på de af mine venner som var blevet arresteret og bad for dem, hun rettede vores forfejlede syninger i de hjemmelavede revolutionære flag, som vi ville uddele hemmeligt, og hun forsvarede mig over for venner og familie og påtog sig de anklager og den modstand, som var rettet mod mig. | And she would pretend that she believed me. My mother would cry every time she heard the revolutionary song, whose lyrics went: “I am going to the demonstration, with my blood in my hands/I will come back a martyr, mother/Do not cry for me.” |
39 | Hver gang sikkerhedsforanstaltninger tvang mig til at rejse udenlands, pakkede min mor kufferten for mig og satte et lille billede af mig i hjørnet af sin computerskærm. | Yet she lived the revolution with me. She remembered the names of friends who got arrested and prayed for them. |
40 | | She helped fix the shoddy stitching on the new revolutionary flags, which we would distribute secretly, and in our social and family circles she would defend me, taking the blame and the blows on my behalf. |
41 | En uge før sin død sagde hun til mig: “Du og din søster er alt, hvad der er tilbage af min verden. | Each time the volatile security situation forced me to travel abroad, my mother would pack my bag. |
42 | Hvis du forlader mig, så er det halvdelen af min verden, som forsvinder, er du klar over det?” | And she would stick a snapshot of me on the corner of her computer screen. |
43 | Selvom jeg udmærket forstod grunden til hendes frygt, blev jeg vred, og jeg svarede egoistisk, hvilket jeg endnu fortryder den dag i dag: “Jeg er ikke mere værd end andres børn, og du er ikke anderledes end andre mødre. | One week before she was killed, she said to me: “You and your sister are all that is left of my world. If you leave, half my world will end. |
44 | Hvis jeg var i fængsel, ville du så ikke også have mine venner til at demonstrere for min løsladelse? | Do you realise that?” And although I understood well why she was so afraid, I'd get angry. |
45 | | Once I selfishly uttered a response I regret to this day: “I am not more dear than the children of other people, and you are no different from the other mothers. |
46 | | If I was in prison, wouldn't you want my friends to protest for my release? |
47 | Er det ikke det, I har opdraget os til?” | Isn't this what you brought us here to do?” |
48 | Med øjnene fulde af tårer sluttede hun med en sætning, hvis ord jeg ikke tror jeg havde været den samme stærke person foruden: “Mido, ved du, hvor stolt jeg er af dig?”. | She closed her eyes and wept. Then she said: “Memo, do you know how proud I am of you?” |
49 | Og jeg smilede. | And I smiled. |
50 | En uge senere besluttede officerer ved en militær kontrolpost, at den bil som min mor kørte i hjem fra en vens bryllup, var mistænksom. | I believe it is those words that makes me the strong person I am today. |
51 | | A week later, officers at a military checkpoint decide that the car in which my mother is traveling, on her way back from a friend's wedding, is somehow suspicious. |
52 | De skød direkte mod den og en militærkugle ramte min mor og dræbte hende. | They shoot at the car, and a military bullet hits my mother directly, killing her. It killed my mother. |
53 | Min mor, som troede på kærlighed og skønhed og familie og de syriske mødres ret til at leve uden frygt og bekymring. | My mother-the woman who believed in love, beauty, family and the right of Syrian mothers to live a life free from fear and anxiety. |
54 | Én enkelt kugle afsluttede alting. | One bullet ended everything. |
55 | Eller, mere præcist, en enkelt kugle gennemborede hendes krop, men den dræbte også sjælen og noget af min sjæl. | It went through her body, also killing much of me and my soul. |
56 | Det afspejler blot regimets manglende respekt for vores sjæle, at en talsmand fra politiet efterfølgende fortalte mig, at “det var enkelt persons fejl, du skal ikke tage det personligt”. | A police office says to me, reflecting the regime's callousness when it comes to our souls: “It was the mistake of one person. Don't take it personally.” |
57 | | One day I will write for you about her death, her funeral, and my loss; but today I wanted to introduce you to my mother alive. |
58 | En dag vil jeg skrive for jer om hendes død og begravelse og mit tab, men i dag har jeg valgt at skrive om hende i live. | To you my mother, every year you continue to be alive in my memory. And I hope you are as proud of me today as you were back then. |
59 | Min mor, for hvert år vil du fortsat være i live i mine minder, og jeg håber, at du i dag er ligeså stolt af mig, som du var dengang. | Marcell Shehwaro blogs at marcellita.com and tweets at @Marcellita, both primarily in Arabic. You can read the first three posts in this series here and here and here. |