TOLERANCE AND LAW
"Tolerance. That is what Poland needs to improve" says Elmi Abdil, a refugee from Somalia. "Tolerance ... for people to have more tolerance for people who have a different skin colour, a different culture. It is very important" says Elmi's friend and compatriot, Abba M.Shair.
Elmi arrived in Poland in 1996 after a long and complicated voyage. He jumped on a boat in Somalia and together with some friends reached Dubai. His next stop was Syria. He finally came to Poland after three years of living in Moscow, a time he refers to as "a nightmare". The perpetual smile on his face flickers, but does not die. We are talking in his falt in a four-storey building in Warsaw's city center. " I am so slim because I walk the whole flight of stairs every day", he jokes and points to his stomach.
According to opinion polls conducted by TNS OBOP - just two weeks after last year's International Refugee Day - most Poles didn't understand how to define a refugee. And even with the word's negative connotation, according to the authors of the Global Language Monitor website, the word refugee, although politically incorrect in the USA, is widely used with other understones. It has started to mean a lucky person who managed to save his/her life from a global catastrophe, like the recent tsunami or hurricane Katrina. It is also frequently applied to the likes of Albert Einstein, Marlene Dietrich, Czesław Miłosz, Thomas Mann and Josif Brodski.
Elmi, of course, is not of that kind stature. His first home in Poland was Dębak refugee centre near Warsaw - the biggest and at the same time the most important institution of its kind in the country. Elmi did not mind. "It was quiet and I had a bed to sleep in" he recalls.
Residents at a refugee centre get shelter, food, medical care, travel expenses needed to finalise the legal procedure for obtaining refugee status, a Polish language course and even a little pocket money. The refugee status all of them must obtain to remain in the country is very difficult to get. In 2000, only 335 of 6 860 applicants actually received it. Elmi waited nine months for his decision. Many other foreigners are not so lucky - epecially Chechens, who are by far the largest ethnic group among Poland's refugees. In fact, in 2005 they made 91 percent of Poland's registered refugees, up from 81 percent in 2003. As much as they would like to continue their flight to Germany, Austria and beyond, European Union regulations prevent them from doing so, and they are, often forcibly, returned to Poland.
Elmi, however, is content with his life here. He smiles as he tells his story. He has lost nothing of his good humour and openness, continues to make new friends, often by doing favours to people he barely knows.
The Polish Humanitarian Organisation helped him find his first job - washing dishes at the Tam Tam restaurant.
"It is a pity" he says. " I work, and sometimes a Pole comes and says "Look, they employed an African and we do not have the work". We've been hearing this all the time, it's very sad".
According to the TNS OBOP study, 67 percent of Poles believe that refugees increase unemployment.
"What we miss is tolerance" Abba cuts in. "If you make 600 zlotys, you can manage if there is tolerance. What it's all about is to accept another human being and not to say "Shit, some African's come to our country."
Official recognition and a job do not end a refugee's problems. Doctor Maria Siwiak-Kobayashi, a psychologist who has been working with refugees in the Centre for Personality Support and Development points out that refugees often suffer from post-traumatic stress disorder. This is a severe psychological problem that often affects those who have experienced a tragic event in their lives, such as a war. Many children and adults continue to sleep on the floor under their alloted beds for months after arrival to their new country, as they are afraid of shootings in the night.
"Everywhere we go, our suitcase goes with us and in it we carry ourselves" says Siwiak-Kobayashi. "Leaving one country does not mean we leave our emotional problems, we simply take them with us."
Being a refugee always means living in a crisis situation. Their legal situation is one problem. For whose who get official refugee status, the next challenge is to intergrate into their new society. For whose who fail, a nightmare begins.
Doctor Siwiak-Kobayashi says that a critical phase takes place four to five months after arriving in a new country. After an initial period of relief, the stress returns. This is the time when they need professional help the most.
Nowadays, Elmi feels great. However, things weren't always as rosy as his sunny countenance would suggest.
"The most painful bit was when I started to understand what people were saying in Polish" he says.
For an instant, the smile fades and there are tears in his eyes. Other Somalis he met at the Dębak centre have left Poland and gone to live in the West. He visits them sometimes.
"When I go abroad on holiday, I miss Poland, I do not know what made me stay in Poland. I feel I have to be here" he says.
Today he is in between jobs, but says he is not worried.
"We arrived in Poland as refugees and the Polish stae has to accept us, you don't have to give ( a man) money, give him a paper so he can look for a job" he says.
Tellingly, one of his former jobs was at the Quo Vadis club. Quo vadis? Where are you going?
"Tolerance. That is what Poland needs to improve" says Elmi Abdil, a refugee from Somalia. "Tolerance ... for people to have more tolerance for people who have a different skin colour, a different culture. It is very important" says Elmi's friend and compatriot, Abba M.Shair.
Elmi arrived in Poland in 1996 after a long and complicated voyage. He jumped on a boat in Somalia and together with some friends reached Dubai. His next stop was Syria. He finally came to Poland after three years of living in Moscow, a time he refers to as "a nightmare". The perpetual smile on his face flickers, but does not die. We are talking in his falt in a four-storey building in Warsaw's city center. " I am so slim because I walk the whole flight of stairs every day", he jokes and points to his stomach.
According to opinion polls conducted by TNS OBOP - just two weeks after last year's International Refugee Day - most Poles didn't understand how to define a refugee. And even with the word's negative connotation, according to the authors of the Global Language Monitor website, the word refugee, although politically incorrect in the USA, is widely used with other understones. It has started to mean a lucky person who managed to save his/her life from a global catastrophe, like the recent tsunami or hurricane Katrina. It is also frequently applied to the likes of Albert Einstein, Marlene Dietrich, Czesław Miłosz, Thomas Mann and Josif Brodski.
Elmi, of course, is not of that kind stature. His first home in Poland was Dębak refugee centre near Warsaw - the biggest and at the same time the most important institution of its kind in the country. Elmi did not mind. "It was quiet and I had a bed to sleep in" he recalls.
Residents at a refugee centre get shelter, food, medical care, travel expenses needed to finalise the legal procedure for obtaining refugee status, a Polish language course and even a little pocket money. The refugee status all of them must obtain to remain in the country is very difficult to get. In 2000, only 335 of 6 860 applicants actually received it. Elmi waited nine months for his decision. Many other foreigners are not so lucky - epecially Chechens, who are by far the largest ethnic group among Poland's refugees. In fact, in 2005 they made 91 percent of Poland's registered refugees, up from 81 percent in 2003. As much as they would like to continue their flight to Germany, Austria and beyond, European Union regulations prevent them from doing so, and they are, often forcibly, returned to Poland.
Elmi, however, is content with his life here. He smiles as he tells his story. He has lost nothing of his good humour and openness, continues to make new friends, often by doing favours to people he barely knows.
The Polish Humanitarian Organisation helped him find his first job - washing dishes at the Tam Tam restaurant.
"It is a pity" he says. " I work, and sometimes a Pole comes and says "Look, they employed an African and we do not have the work". We've been hearing this all the time, it's very sad".
According to the TNS OBOP study, 67 percent of Poles believe that refugees increase unemployment.
"What we miss is tolerance" Abba cuts in. "If you make 600 zlotys, you can manage if there is tolerance. What it's all about is to accept another human being and not to say "Shit, some African's come to our country."
Official recognition and a job do not end a refugee's problems. Doctor Maria Siwiak-Kobayashi, a psychologist who has been working with refugees in the Centre for Personality Support and Development points out that refugees often suffer from post-traumatic stress disorder. This is a severe psychological problem that often affects those who have experienced a tragic event in their lives, such as a war. Many children and adults continue to sleep on the floor under their alloted beds for months after arrival to their new country, as they are afraid of shootings in the night.
"Everywhere we go, our suitcase goes with us and in it we carry ourselves" says Siwiak-Kobayashi. "Leaving one country does not mean we leave our emotional problems, we simply take them with us."
Being a refugee always means living in a crisis situation. Their legal situation is one problem. For whose who get official refugee status, the next challenge is to intergrate into their new society. For whose who fail, a nightmare begins.
Doctor Siwiak-Kobayashi says that a critical phase takes place four to five months after arriving in a new country. After an initial period of relief, the stress returns. This is the time when they need professional help the most.
Nowadays, Elmi feels great. However, things weren't always as rosy as his sunny countenance would suggest.
"The most painful bit was when I started to understand what people were saying in Polish" he says.
For an instant, the smile fades and there are tears in his eyes. Other Somalis he met at the Dębak centre have left Poland and gone to live in the West. He visits them sometimes.
"When I go abroad on holiday, I miss Poland, I do not know what made me stay in Poland. I feel I have to be here" he says.
Today he is in between jobs, but says he is not worried.
"We arrived in Poland as refugees and the Polish stae has to accept us, you don't have to give ( a man) money, give him a paper so he can look for a job" he says.
Tellingly, one of his former jobs was at the Quo Vadis club. Quo vadis? Where are you going?
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