Three years ago, Germany took in several thousand Syrians as "quota refugees." They didn't have to apply for asylum and were allowed to look for work straight away. So how are they doing today?
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On the coffee table is a little plate of Syrian cookies. A friend has sent them from home. The television is tuned to a Syrian channel. In front of it, on the sofa, sits Zakiah Bshara (pictured). She left her homeland at the age of 71 and fled with her husband and son to her daughter in Germany. That was almost two years ago. Today, she lives in Kiel.
Arwa Bchara, Bshara's daughter, is 35. She couldn't stand living in Syria any longer. Every day, on the way to work in Damascus, she had to drive past a village held by fighters of the "Islamic State" (IS). One day the extremists shot at her. "In their view, women are not allowed to drive," Bchara said. She turned around, drove home and never went back to work. She lived in constant fear of what would happen if IS came to her village as well.
Like many Syrians, Arwa Bchara initially fled to Lebanon. She stayed there for a year. "I had a good job with a big insurance company, but my parents and my disabled brother wouldn't have been able to live in Beirut," she said. So she registered with the United Nations' refugee agency, to come to Germany as a "quota refugee." Almost a year after the German government's decision to fly 5,000 Syrian refugees out of Lebanon, in March 2014, Arwa Bchara was also given a ticket to Germany.
Learning the language
Bchara's new life was based in the northern German city of Kiel. She initially couldn't focus on her language course: The first thing she wanted to do was bring her family to Germany. Günay Turan, a refugee advisor with the Workers' Welfare Association (AWO) in Kiel, said this was very common with refugees. "Their thoughts are with the families they've left behind," she said. "People need time to settle in here first." Basically, though, Turan said all refugees are trying to learn German.
"I actually didn't go to the language course at all," Bchara said in hesitant but comprehensible German. "I always had so much to do." She said she taught herself the language, learning from friends and from the television - and did it so successfully that she recently passed her B1 certificate in German.
Her mother, on the other hand, can only speak a few words of German. Enough, at least, to go shopping in the supermarket. "I'd like to do a language course," Bshara said in Arabic. She has also needed time to get used to living in Germany. Six months ago, she lost her husband. She's not completely isolated in Germany, though. She's in contact with two neighbors: a woman from Iraq and another who's German. "When our German neighbor comes round, the two of them sit together and drink coffee and watch television," her daughter said. They can't talk to one another.
Turan said that integration will be apparent over the generations. Children and young people are therefore at the heart of what she does. "We mustn't waste any time if we want these people to be integrated here," she said.
Long road to getting a job
Bchara is a proud woman; her big brown eyes flash when she talks about her life in Syria and the consulting firm she built up there after completing her law degree. She would like to work in this field again, but she also knows how difficult it is. "You can't do anything here with a law degree, initially," Turan said. "The outlook is a bit better in technical professions - as an engineer or skilled workman, for example." But Turan said there were more hurdles than language courses - such as getting diplomas and professional certificates recognized, or additional training.
The lawyer will soon do an internship to improve her German. Turan is offering her the opportunity of working at the AWO, as an interpreter for counseling interviews. "We've already had quite a few migrants who used to come for counseling themselves helping us later as translators," she said.
For Bchara, that's one more step on the road to getting a job. She has also set her sights on a degree in international law. After two years in Germany, it seems that her mind is now free to focus on her career - although the war in Syria is still very much a part of her as many friends and relatives still live there. "Do you know what a beautiful country Syria was before the war?" she asked.
Mother and daughter agree: They're happy living in Germany. But Zakiah Bshara would like to go back to Syria after the war. "That's my mother," Arwa Bchara said. "I want to stay here and give something back to Germany for helping me."
Refugees learn by doing on German language course in Bonn
Grappling with a new language and alphabet while living in a strange place is hardly a simple task. DW joined a class for asylum seekers on a practical exercise aiming to combine lessons about German - and Germany.
Image: DW/M. Hallam
Refugees head to language school
A new language and alphabet are among the chief challenges awaiting asylum seekers arriving in Germany. Most need help, at least to get started. The good news on this day, however, is that they can leave their satchels, their exercise books, and even their teachers behind - it's time to hit the streets and learn proactively.
Image: DW/M. Hallam
Appetite for learning
The ACB Lingua language school's new "Integration Course" is aimed at recent arrivals. The school sent students on a "treasure hunt" to teach them about Bonn, and to get students to try out some German with strangers. Task 1: "Go to the market - find this stall - what types of fruit and vegetables does it sell?"
Image: DW/M. Hallam
Teaching aids
Do you know the German for "pineapple?" While French and Italian-speakers have no excuse for getting the wrong answer, the students, most of whom speak Arabic, had a harder time. Thankfully clues abound! The team DW accompanied seemed keen for bonus points; they noted down prices, too, though that information was not required.
Image: DW/M. Hallam
Cheating? More like a shortcut
Students were urged not to use their phones and to ask people in German for directions and information instead. However, on finding a passer-by who spoke both German and Arabic, the temptation was too great. Bassam (holding the paper) was kind enough to talk the team through several sentences they couldn't understand.
Image: DW/M. Hallam
'When was Beethoven born?'
Ludwig van Beethoven is arguably Bonn's most famous native. The house where he was born, near the city-center marketplace, serves as a small museum. Radwan Ajouz and his son Ali, originally from Aleppo in Syria, work on their next task. They find magic number: 1770.
Image: DW/M. Hallam
Pick up the pace
Bonus points were on offer for groups that completed the treasure hunt the fastest - with competitors keeping a keen eye on the clock. Still, within around two hours, the tour took them to a string of places they're likely to visit again. One question asked them to find out and note down the opening hours of Bonn's foreign nationals' office (Ausländeramt).
Image: DW/M. Hallam
Getting around town
"Go to Friedensplatz," the team's instructions say, pointing them to another major square in central Bonn. "What is the final destination for bus number 608, and when will the next one arrive?" The 608 also stops fairly close to the Paulus-Heim in Bonn - a former old people's home converted into a refugee shelter, where many in the class live.
Image: DW/M. Hallam
Staff coffee break
Next stop: the city library. There, students should find books in Arabic, Persian or Kurdish, and ask for information on what paperwork they need to borrow books. However, on entry, our reporter was distracted by the sight of the class' teachers chatting over coffee - while their charges did all the hard graft! One of them proudly scrolls through photos of other recent class outings.
Image: DW/M. Hallam
Greetings from Bonn!
"Sit down somewhere," and write a postcard, the class was told, nearing the end of their assignment. "Go to the main post office, buy a stamp and send the postcard. Keep your receipt for the stamp." Another means of communication unlocked - though the task of buying the right stamp for a postcard was a challenge.
Image: DW/M. Hallam
Waiting for the stragglers
This was a longer lesson than usual - with some teams needing more time than others. Early finishers, though, had a game of Pictionary awaiting them: draw something on the board, and whoever names it first (in German, of course!) gets the pen. This game showed quite a gulf between the students; some couldn't contribute, the more advanced were even getting the right genders for the nouns.
Image: DW/M. Hallam
Points mean prizes
ACB Lingua's Alev Erisöv-Reinke had laid on rewards for the groups who scored best on her fact-finding mission around the heart of Bonn. Our team didn't quite make the top three - quite possibly because they were handicapped by a chatty reporter, who was also under orders not to help.
Image: DW/M. Hallam
Victory from jaws of defeat
A surprise to end the day: a bonus prize does go to Radwan Ajouz after all, as the oldest competitor to finish the challenge. Ajouz was all smiles throughout the exercise, shouting "Foto! Foto!" (photo) at all and sundry on DW's behalf, after realizing our need to ask permission. His wife and four of his children are still in Lebanon, having fled Syria.