Separated

From his apartment building, Safaa looks down at the city sprawling below him, wishing the immensity of the city did not make him feel so alone. Safaa has lived in Cairo for almost five years now.

After the war began, Safaa, a graduate of the Baghdad College of Fine Arts, organized a small group of clowns in Baghdad. Their mission was to entertain and to educate children about the importance of going to school. The clowns were popular among children and families and drew unwanted attention to their cause. After militias threatened and killed two members of Safaa’s group, Safaa fled immediately for Egypt, fearing his own life, but hoping also to continue his work and passion elsewhere.

When Safaa fled Iraq, he left behind his family and his younger brother Rahman who also aspired to become a clown. After being separated from his brother for over a year, Rahman decided to join him in Egypt. Overwhelmed with hope and excitement, he flew to Cairo expecting to once again reunite with his beloved brother. When he arrived at the airport, Rahman’s attempt to enter the country was severely rejected. Young, single, male, Muslim, and Iraqi, Rahman was far from being an ideal candidate for entry. That cold and desolate night, Rahman could only stare through the glass window and gaze with longing at his brother on the other side.

Rahman spent a night in the airport basement with other young men and families who were also rejected for the same reason – for being Iraqi. Some families had been living in the basement for over two weeks, without proper showers or toilets. The basement reeked of human odor and excrement.

Rahman returned to Baghdad, but did not remain there for long. Unable and afraid to practice being a clown in Iraq, Rahman fled to Syria with his friends and organized his own trio of clowns in Damascus. They now perform in community centers, entertaining children while the parents register as refugees at the UNHCR. The performances focus on education, urging children, whose education was stunted by the war and by years without proper schooling, to go to school.

Rahman shares a small studio apartment with his friends, Ali and Saif, in Saida Zaynab, a seedy neighborhood in Damascus, popular for the thousands of Iraqis that have settled there. They talk about the dreams they left behind and the dreams that seem so intangible in their cramped and run-down apartment. Rahman wants to become a cinematographer. Saif wants to write screenplays like his uncle and Ali wants to perform in theaters. The prospect of getting married and having children also seem so distant now. They want jobs; they want security; they want a home before they can ever consider becoming a parent.

The fan turns slowly above their head. Ali reclines on a small bed in the far corner smoking a cigarette. Saif sits against another bed on the floor. Rahman lies on a third bed, tapping his fingers against the dusty windowpane. There is nowhere to go and they feel restless.

Although living apart in two separate countries, Safaa and Rahman each day wake up to the same morning and to the same routine. Clown by day, they struggle to make children smile. Alone at night, they struggle to be happy and hopeful about their own lives. Safaa and Rahman wonder when they will be able to reunite and work together again.