Brave New World

In the summer of 2015, Ahmad Dandoush, now 23, crammed himself, along with his brother and two dozen others, into a rubber boat designed for eight people. They set off from Turkey, heading across the dangerous waters of the Mediterranean for Greece. 

The Syrians, Afghans, and Iraqis who were packed into the tiny boat were fleeing violence and upheaval in their homelands. Each had paid $1,000 to smugglers, hoping to reach Europe and its promise of a new life. Dandoush, who grew up in the Syrian city of Latakia, was running from that nation’s civil war, which has killed close to 500,000 people and caused millions to flee for their lives.

“We all knew what happened to other refugees, that some had died,” Dandoush recalls. “We just wanted to get to Greece alive.”

In the summer of 2015, Ahmad Dandoush, now 23, squeezed himself along with his brother and two dozen others, into a rubber boat designed for eight people. They set off from Turkey, heading across the dangerous waters of the Mediterranean for Greece.

The Syrians, Afghans, and Iraqis who were packed into the tiny boat were fleeing violence and upheavalin their homelands. Each had paid $1,000 to smugglers. They hoped to reach Europe and its promise of a new life. 

Dandoush, who grew up in the Syrian city of Latakia, was running from that nation’s civil war. The war has killed close to 500,000 people and caused millions to flee for their lives.

“We all knew what happened to other refugees, that some had died,” Dandoush recalls. “We just wanted to get to Greece alive.”

When they reached the shores of Lesbos, Greece, Dandoush was among the first to spring from the boat—his first step on a three-month-long journey across Europe by train, by taxi, and on foot. By the time he arrived in Germany last October, the trip had taken him through five countries—Greece, Macedonia, Serbia, Hungary, and Austria—cost him $3,000, and left him 20 pounds lighter. 

Dandoush is one of nearly 900,000 migrants who’ve made their way to Germany in the past year seeking asylum (protection given by a government to a refugee from another country). They’re part of the biggest refugee crisis that Europe has experienced since the end of World War II. Germany, with its strong economy and generous social welfare benefits, has been a top destination choice for the migrants, who are mostly from Syria, Iraq, and Afghanistan.

When they reached the shores of Lesbos, Greece, Dandoush was among the first to get off the boat. That was his first step on a three-month-long journey across Europe. He made that journey by train, by taxi, and on foot. By the time he arrived in Germany last October, the trip had taken him through five countries: Greece, Macedonia, Serbia, Hungary, and Austria. It cost him $3,000. He also lost 20 pounds.

Dandoush is one of nearly 900,000 migrants who’ve made their way to Germany in the past year seeking asylum. (Asylum is a form of protection given by a government to a refugee from another country.) They’re part of the biggest refugee crisis that Europe has experienced since the end of World War II. Germany has a strong economy and generous social welfare benefits. For that reason, it’s been a top destination choice for the migrants. They are mostly from Syria, Iraq, and Afghanistan.

Initially, Germans welcomed them. But integrating these new arrivals, most of whom are Muslim, poses one of the biggest challenges the country has faced in decades. It wasn’t long before a backlash against the migrants began. There were more than 1,000 attacks on refugee shelters in 2015, including 92 incidents of arson. And far-right political parties that call for closing the door to more migrants have been gaining in popularity. Those groups have targeted Muslims with their rhetoric and held sometimes violent demonstrations against the influx of foreigners.

Fears of Muslim newcomers have been heightened by terrorist attacks carried out in Europe by the Islamic State, a radical group also known as ISIS that now controls large swaths of Syria and Iraq. The attacks include the one in Paris last November, which killed 130 people.  

Having made it to Germany, Dandoush is one of the lucky ones. About 11,000 migrants are trapped in camps in Greece, held behind barbed-wire fences. Overwhelmed by the flood of migrants, several countries Dandoush passed through have since sealed their borders, and in March, the European Union reached a deal with Turkey to send some migrants back to Turkey. 

From the moment he crossed the border into Germany in October 2015, Dandoush began throwing himself into adjusting to his new life. His first priority: learning German, with the help of an app developed by the German government.

Even though some Germans would rather migrants like him went back to where they came from, Dandoush wants to put down roots in Germany. First he needs the equivalent of a high school diploma so he can go to college. That, he hopes, will lead to a good job.   

Initially, Germans welcomed them. But integrating these new arrivals, most of whom are Muslim, poses one of the biggest challenges the country has faced in decades. A backlash against the migrants soon began. There were more than 1,000 attacks on refugee shelters in 2015. That includes 92 incidents of arson. And far-right political parties have been gaining in popularity. They call for closing the door to more migrants. Those groups have targeted Muslims with their rhetoric. Sometimes they have held violent demonstrations against the influx of foreigners.

Fears of Muslim newcomers have been heightened by recent terrorist attacks carried out in Europe by the Islamic State. That radical group is also known as ISIS. It now controls large swaths of Syria and Iraq. The attacks include the one in Paris last November. It killed 130 people.

Having made it to Germany, Dandoush is one of the lucky ones. About 11,000 migrants are trapped in camps in Greece. They are held behind barbed-wire fences. Overwhelmed by the flood of migrants, several countries Dandoush passed through have since sealed their borders. In March, the European Union reached a deal with Turkey to send some migrants back to Turkey. 

From the moment he crossed the border into Germany last October, Dandoush began throwing himself into adjusting to his new life. His first priority: learning German. To do that he’s using an app developed by the German government.

Some Germans would rather migrants like Dandoush went back to where they came from. But Dandoush wants to put down roots in Germany. First he needs the equivalent of a high school diploma so he can go to college. He hopes that will lead to a good job.

Dandoush fled Syria in 2014 to avoid being drafted into the army of Syrian dictator Bashar al-Assad. The bloody civil war there, now in its sixth year, is one of the main causes of Europe’s refugee crisis(see Update: Syria’s Civil War). Dandoush went to neighboring Turkey, where he worked odd jobs. But singing is his passion, and while in Turkey he tried out for Arab Idol, a TV contest modeled after American Idol. He made it onto the show and was invited to the finals. 

But by the time the call came, summer—when the waters of the Mediterranean are calmer—was nearly over, and Dandoush had saved enough money for the trip. He couldn’t wait. 

Dandoush had to give up his chance at stardom, but many migrants have had to endure much greater hardships.

“Many children and young people have traumatic experiences behind them, from the reasons they were forced to flee, to what may have happened en route to Europe,” says Ninja Charbonneau of UNICEF.

Dandoush fled Syria in 2014. He wanted to avoid being drafted into the army of Syrian dictator Bashar al-Assad. The bloody civil war there is one of the main causes of Europe’s refugee crisis. The war is now in its sixth year. 

Dandoush went to neighboring Turkey. There he worked odd jobs. But singing is his passion. So, while in Turkey, he tried out for Arab Idol. That is a TV contest modeled after American Idol. He made it onto the show and was invited to the finals. 

But by the time that happened, summer was nearly over. Summer is the best time to cross the Mediterranean Sea because that’s when waters are calmer. And Dandoush had saved enough money for the trip. He knew he couldn’t wait. 

Dandoush had to give up his chance at stardom. But many migrants have had to endure much greater hardships.

“Many children and young people have traumatic experiences behind them, from the reasons they were forced to flee, to what may have happened en route to Europe,” says Ninja Charbonneau of UNICEF.

Roughly a third of Germany’s new arrivals are children or teens; young adults ages 18 to 25 account for almost another quarter of the refugees. Many hope to continue their education, and the German government is eager for them to do so.

What Germany doesn’t want is for the newcomers to wind up living in segregated communities. It fears such areas could become fertile ground for Islamic terrorists, as they have in parts of France and Belgium. 

To prevent such parallel societies from forming among the newest arrivals, the German government passed the country’s first integration law. It provides refugees with housing assistance, healthcare, language lessons, and help getting jobs in exchange for adopting Germany’s customs and following its laws.

Adapting to a new culture is easier for young people than for their parents. Still, many struggle with the more subtle challenges. Most come from conservative Muslim countries that have male-dominated societies. In Germany, boys are confronted for the first time with women in positions of authority. And girls have to reconcile their family’s expectations of modesty with the kissing couples they see on the streets and German girls wearing shorts at school.

Roughly a third of Germany’s new arrivals are children or teens. Young adults ages 18 to 25 account for almost another quarter of the refugees. Many hope to continue their education. The German government is eager for them to do so.

What Germany doesn’t want is for the newcomers to end up living in segregated communities. It fears such areas could become fertile ground for Islamic terrorists. That has happened in parts of France and Belgium. 

To prevent such parallel societies from forming among the newest arrivals, the German government passed the country’s first integration law. It provides refugees with housing assistance, health care, and language lessons. It also helps refugees get jobs in exchange for adopting Germany’s customs and following its laws. 

Adapting to a new culture is easier for young people than for their parents. Still, many struggle with the more subtle challenges. Most come from conservative Muslim countries. They are largely male-dominated societies. In Germany, boys are confronted for the first time with women in positions of authority. And girls have to reconcile their family’s expectations of modesty with the kissing couples they see on the streets and German girls wearing shorts at school.

Loreena,* a 14-year-old from Syria, is in ninth grade at a German high school in the eastern city of Weimar, where her family now lives in a three-room apartment in a former Communist housing project. Her family belongs to the Yazidi religious minority, a group that’s been targeted by ISIS. The militants have enslaved Yazidi women and girls, and forced them to marry ISIS fighters.  

Like Dandoush, Loreena’s goal is to finish high school so she can go to college. Loreena speaks Arabic, Kurdish, and Turkish, and she’s picked up German quickly. More difficult than schoolwork is making friends with German kids. 

“The German girls don’t like us,” she says. One classmate she worked with on a school project completely ignored her the following day when they passed each other on the street. Although Loreena doesn’t wear a head scarf, one of her best friends who’s also a Syrian refugee does, and the two are often taunted. 

“They call us terrorists and say we are from ISIS,” she says. “That really hurts because we ran from ISIS. They chased us out of our country!”

Loreena came with her parents. Shakir Yakoupi, 16, wasn’t so lucky: He’s one of 14,000 unaccompanied juveniles to arrive in Germany last year. Shakir made his way from Kandahar, Afghanistan, through Iran and Turkey, and then across the Mediterranean, along the route Dandoush took. Shakir’s parents sent him to Germany on his own out of fear he would be targeted by the Taliban; his father, who worked for a German government agency in Afghanistan, is now considered a traitor. 

Loreena,* a 14-year-old from Syria, is in ninth grade at a German high school in the eastern city of Weimar. Her family now lives there in a three-room apartment in a former Communist housing project. Her family belongs to the Yazidi religious minority. That’s a group that ISIS has targeted. The militants have enslaved Yazidi women and girls. They have forced them to marry ISIS fighters.  

Like Dandoush, Loreena’s goal is to finish high school. That way she can go to college. Loreena speaks Arabic, Kurdish, and Turkish. She’s also picked up German quickly. But making friends with German kids has been more difficult than schoolwork.

“The German girls don’t like us,” she says. One classmate who she worked with on a school project completely ignored her the following day when they passed each other on the street. Loreena doesn’t wear a head scarf, but one of her best friends who’s also a Syrian refugee does. The two are often teased.

“They call us terrorists and say we are from ISIS,” she says. “That really hurts because we ran from ISIS. They chased us out of our country!”

Loreena came with her parents. Shakir Yakoupi, 16, wasn’t so lucky. He’s one of 14,000 unaccompanied juveniles to arrive in Germany last year. Shakir made his way from Kandahar, Afghanistan, through Iran and Turkey. He then crossed the Mediterranean along the route Dandoush took. Shakir’s parents sent him to Germany on his own. They feared he would be targeted by the Taliban. His father worked for a German government agency in Afghanistan. He is now considered a traitor.

Once in Germany, each juvenile who arrives without any family is assigned a legal guardian and a place to live, either with a foster family or in a group home. They’re enrolled in school and given a monthly allowance of about $160. 

At the start of school last year, Shakir landed a scholarship at a prestigious boarding school in western Germany. He began intensive language classes, as well as courses in math, science, and art. In his free time, Shakir joins pickup soccer games with his German friends on the school’s campus. One of the first things he bought with his allowance was a German national team soccer jersey. 

“I like the German team very much,” he says in nearly fluent German.

Normally, his money goes for things like gel to style his spiky black hair, bus trips to visit his brother in another part of the country, and of course his phone. Cellphones are critical for every refugee. They serve as pocket dictionaries and translators, and they allow refugees to stay in touch with family and friends back home or in other European countries via Facebook, Instagram, or WhatsApp.

Back in Weimar, Dandoush has also discovered that soccer is a good way to make friends. He plays with a group of refugees and Germans once a week. The rest of his free time is devoted to improving his German. As part of that effort, he’s taken to riding his bike in the park and striking up conversations with elderly Germans. 

“At first they look at me kind of funny, but when I sit down next to them on the bench and start talking, I think it makes them happy,” he says, smiling. “The people here are really good, really nice. Some of them just need some time to get used to us.”

Once in Germany, each juvenile who arrives without any family is assigned a legal guardian. They are also assigned a place to live, either with a foster family or in a group home. They’re enrolled in school and given a monthly allowance of about $160. 

At the start of the last school year, Shakir landed a scholarship at a prestigious boarding school in western Germany. He began intensive language classes. He also started regular courses in math, science, and art. In his free time, Shakir joins pickup soccer games with his German friends on the school’s campus. One of the first things he bought with his allowance was a German national team soccer jersey. “I like the German team very much,” he says in nearly fluent German.

Normally, his money goes for things like gel to style his spiky black hair. He also buys bus tickets so he can visit his brother in another part of the country. And of course he uses some money for his phone. Cellphones are critical for every refugee. They serve as pocket dictionaries and translators. They also allow refugees to stay in touch with family and friends back home or in other European countries via Facebook, Instagram, or WhatsApp.

Back in Weimar, Dandoush has also discovered that soccer is a good way to make friends. He plays with a group of refugees and Germans once a week. The rest of his free time is devoted to improving his German. As part of that effort, he’s taken to riding his bike in the park and starting conversations with elderly Germans. 

“At first they look at me kind of funny, but when I sit down next to them on the bench and start talking, I think it makes them happy,” he says, smiling. “The people here are really good, really nice. Some of them just need some time to get used to us.”