Today, during my visit to Bogota, I had the incredible opportunity to conduct an interview with Gabriel Ortiz van Meerbeke, the author of the article titled “Graffiti takes its own space: Negotiated Consent and the Positionings of street artists and graffiti writers in Bogotá, Colombia.” I was particularly thrilled about this interview since our research interests intersected, and I was eager to gain not only Gabriel’s insights but also learn about his personal journey throughout his research. As it turns out, Gabriel currently serves as a cultural manager for the city of Bogota, which provided a fascinating alternative perspective, more focused on the government’s involvement in commissioned art and the ongoing debate surrounding the legality and respect of graffiti.
After the interview, I was joined by Angel, where we went to visit Camilo Lopez, director of Vertigo Graffiti. The company is known for its exceptional work in designing and producing captivating public art. Our meeting with Camilo took place in the Bronx, a low-income neighborhood within Bogota. Camilo unveiled a new project—a remake of their infamous mural depicting a moment between a homeless couple sharing a kiss. This project is connected to the transformation the city of Bogota has planned for the Bronx.
Our stay in Sri Lanka began with lunch at the historic Tintagel hotel in Colombo, the former house of the first South Asian female Prime Minister, Sirimavo Bandaranaike. Our hotel was located in the heart of the city, with strong British and Dutch influences. While severely jet lagged, we reached out to local policy institutes and research organizations like Advocata and the Lakshman Kadirgamar Institute. We conversed with Murtaza Jafferjee and Dhananath Fernando at Advocata, who scheduled interviews with various policy experts for the following week. Friday afternoon was spent on communications with various academics, activists, and civil society leaders like heads of non-profit organizations and human rights attorneys.
On Saturday we visited historic Galle and the surrounding areas, touring the old colonial battlements of Galle Fort and the Dutch Hospital district. We learnt much about the legacies of colonial rule, exemplified by the centuries-old fortifications and more surprisingly, a “Verenigde Oostindische Compagnie” (the Dutch East India Company)-themed cafe. In Galle, and many towns ‘down south’, local restaurants, bars, and cafés make a concerted effort to cater to European visitors. The economy of Sri Lanka had been hit hard by Covid-19, which gutted the tourism sector on the island. In an effort to attract tourists, especially wealthier ones who can afford to come to Sri Lanka, locals have put up signs in Russian and French. Despite the depredation caused by the pandemic, locals were friendly and conversational. At the Meera Masjid, workers in the mosque shared their experiences of being Muslim in Sri Lanka. They highlighted the differences in treatment in coastal communities versus inland communities, noting that coastal towns tended to be more heterogeneous and cosmopolitan, and therefore more harmonious. Galle Fort was a prime example of peaceful communitarian coexistence. However, the shadow of Covid-19 falls over the island as Sri Lankans lament the price of fuel due to the falling value of the Lankan rupee against the dollar. Inflation and unemployment have risen dramatically in the last few years, and it is especially apparent in the once-vibrant tourist towns of Bentota and Hikkaduwa.
Embarking on a research trip to Colombia was a dream come true. In the midst of the chaos of finals and moving out of my sophomore dorm, during any free time I could get, I found myself fantasizing about my first visit to Latin America. We were supposed to leave to the Logan Airport at 2:30AM. At around 11PM, my friend Billy and I were running last-minute packing errands, while also mentally preparing for the trip. Our excitement mixed with anxieties, but after a thorough discussion, we decided to eliminate any expectations and just open our minds to whatever is to come.
After a quite long journey and many unsuccessful attempts to catch up on
sleep on the airplane post-finals season, we finally set foot in Bogotá.
Throughout our stay in Bogotá, I just could
not believe that I was in Colombia—this South American treasure with its diverse ecosystems, intriguing
history, and warm-hearted people. I am the first one in my family to receive the opportunity to explore this unique country
with such a rich history.
As I reflect on our stay in Bogotá, I realize that a part
of my disbelief was caused by the overwhelming feeling of familiarity with my
home country of Kyrgyzstan. Despite being located more than 8,500 miles away
from my hometown of Bishkek, Bogotá’s vibrant culture, infrastructure, and kind
locals felt like I had lived there my entire life.
This observation only enhanced my passion for my research topic, as the issues related to labor migration are very prevalent both in Colombia and in Kyrgyzstan. Nonetheless, I found that the discussion of the effects of labor migration on the children of labor migrants is much more common in Kyrgyzstan than in Colombia. Sometimes, I found myself desperate for information on any efforts to promote this discussion and create programs for Colombian children whose parents are labor migrants in other parts of the country or the world. However, this continued pushed me forward because I realized how understudied yet critical this topic is. Luckily, our visit to USAID’s office in Bogotá and our meeting with the Elizabeth and Alejandro–the manager of the inclusion program and the manager of the youth program—were both extremely informative in my understanding of the international organizations’ efforts in promoting youth advancement initiatives in Colombia. Elizabeth and Alejandro gave us fascinating presentations on the youth and indigenous communities advancement programs that change the lives of thousands of Colombians across the nation. I had not heard of these programs being realized in Kyrgyzstan. That day, I discovered another potential for my research–to facilitate an exchange of multi-national mechanisms to protect the children of labor migrants in different parts of the world, which could be influential for global organization to recognize the issues related to the effects of labor migration on the children of labor migrants and identity strategies to mitigate them.
Our stay in Bogotá taught me to embrace the unknown, while traveling and conducting
my research, as well as to look for the familiar and the new no matter where I
end up.
Jordan has witnessed an influx of refugees and immigrant settlements from different African groups. According to the UNHCR, there are currently 3,000 Sudanese and 2,000 Somali refugees living in Jordan. However, compared to the nearly 700,000 Syrian refugees, and the 3 million Palestinian refugees, African refugees are often underrepresented and forgotten in conversations about marginalization in refugee groups.
Many Jordanians that I met so far are acquainted with the neighborhoods where African refugees mainly reside but are completely unaware of the larger systems of ethnic-based discrimination that differentiate their experiences from other Syrian, Iraqi, or Palestinian refugees. The passion I have for my topic stems from my proximity to refugee resettlement and immigration as a Somali immigrant in America. Initially pursuing this research topic, I faced many difficulties breaking through surface-level information and outdated statistics on African refugees in Jordan. As the international focus is on larger more immediate groups in Jordan, very few are invested in advocating for equal and progressive rights of all refugee groups. Sawiyan is one of these few organizations that advocate for marginalized African refugee groups.
Early this morning, I met the Co-founder of Sawiyan at a bookstore cafe, where she shared about her initial involvement with the African refugee community after having worked within the Syrian refugee community in the past, along with the growth of Sawiyan as a community rather than a non-profit organization. The Sawiyan team first came together to respond to a mass deportation of Sudanese refugees that happened on December 15, 2018. During this critical time, Sawiyan brought food, blankets, and clothes to the Sudanese community, who were too scared to leave their homes due to the looming threat of deportation. Sawiyan continues to integrate African refugees into the Jordanian community through social inclusion projects that break down stereotypes using dialogue between Jordanians and African refugee communities and provide specialized resources that they currently lack. Additionally, they conduct and support research projects that critically analyze the irrefutable realities faced by African communities, while also solidifying their validity in the NGO world and increasing awareness of their marginalization in Jordanian society.
Jordan has neither created sound national refugee laws nor asylum procedures, as they refused to sign the 1951 UN Refugee Convention nor the 1967 Protection. They did sign, however, a Memorandum of Understanding (MOU) with UNHCR in 1998 where they were given the responsibility of Refugee Status Determination (RSD) that contained the main principles of international refugee protection, and also states that the treatment of refugees and asylum seekers in Jordan should eventually rise to the internationally accepted standard.
To better contextualize what this policy meant for the African refugee experience, I hope to engage with Sudanese and Somali community members during my stay in Jordan. Later this afternoon, I went to Manara Arts and Culture Center to meet with an Adolescent & Youth Development Specialist at UNICEF, who is a member of the Somali community. His family left Somalia over 10 years ago, spending a few years in Yemen and Syria, and settling in Jordan under refugee status, waiting for their final resettlement elsewhere. His story highlights the limited educational and work opportunities for refugees that are exacerbated by anti-Black discrimination. the African refugee experience can take different forms depending on how much the host country is willing to invest in these communities.
These two meetings today further ignited a passion in me to continue learning about the issues of the African refugee community in Jordan through engagement. I now have a clearer picture of Jordan as an overwhelmed state, burdened by the immense needs of its citizens and newly settled refugees. However, Jordan will continue accepting more refugees than it can take care of as long as they receive humanitarian aid from international organizations and donors. Through my research, I hope to highlight the systems that oppress the marginalized African refugee in Jordan and continue to be critical of the different privileges enjoyed by Jordan’s different refugee groups to create a holistic picture of the unique struggles of the African refugee community.
I had the opportunity to travel to Jordan to conduct interviews with experts in the field of political science. One particular day stood out to me as we interviewed Professor Jalal Al Husseini, an expert on topics such as the Palestinian occupation and Jordanian identity.
Professor Al Husseini provided us with a comprehensive history of the Palestinian immigration to Jordan. He explained that Palestinians who arrived before 1955 are eligible for a passport and citizenship in Jordan. However, he also expressed Jordan’s fear that it could become a second state for Palestinians, leading to them forgetting their homeland. This was a significant concern for Jordan as it could potentially destabilize the country’s delicate balance.
The professor also spoke about the Syrian refugee crisis and how Jordan views them as temporary refugees. The country only continues to welcome them due to the aid received from the EU and the US. He talked about the schooling for Syrian refugees and how Jordan decided to implement double-shifting and other harsh rules, such as closing the bathrooms in schools, so that Syrian refugee children would not use them because they were deemed unclean.
According to Professor Al Husseini, the problem was initially Trans-Jordanians vs. Jordanian Palestinians. However, with the influx of Syrian refugees, it has become a problem of Jordanians vs. Syrians. He expressed concern that this could lead to further unrest in the country and destabilize the current situation.
After a long day of interviews, we decided to walk around the “Al Abdali” area, which was full of malls, banks, and government buildings such as the Ministry of Education. We also had the opportunity to chat with locals about their political opinions and culture, particularly the taxi drivers, who had some fascinating insights to share.
At the end of the day, we enjoyed eating Kunafah from Habiba, a family-owned dessert place in Wasat Al-Balad since 1948, when the family moved their shop from Occupied Palestine to Amman.
The Hashemite Kingdom is an ethnically diverse state largely composed of two main identity groups: “indigenous” Jordanians and “foreign” Palestinians. Many say the country is majority Palestinian at this point and the capital city, Amman, is a clear center of Palestinian life and culture.
These divisions of “indigenous” versus “foreign” and Palestinian-Jordanian versus Jordanian-Jordanian are widely contested based on a number of factors ranging from fundamental pillars of state, common identity as Greater Syria under the Ottomans, and resistance against Israeli occupation and erasure of Palestinian life. These undercurrent tensions between nationality, identity, and citizenship are what I hope to illuminate in my research. My Friday beginning in Amman and ending in the desert of southern Jordan was a perfect embodiment of these complex dynamics.
The drizzly morning began with an interview with an accomplished academic of east bank origin who explained in rigorous detail the origins of Jordanian and Palestinian national identity. He expressed emotional dedication to the Palestinian cause and cited ideas of Arab unity, but as our conversation progressed, certain subsurface rifts emerged. Fascinatingly to me, the university professor noted how was glad that “we” East Bank “real” Jordanians controlled the military and that he didn’t want “them,” meaning Palestinians, to take over the entire government/state. This sensitive but present rift between nationalities and belonging under one common citizenship represents a fragile conception of state that an invented post-colonial Jordan must reckon with constantly.
After a delicious lunch of shawarma and baklawa, and slightly better weather, I had the opportunity to meet with the leader of a cultural center that engages with the wider history and traditions of the “Sham” region but focuses on preservation of a distinctly Palestinian heritage. As we sat in the sun with her dog, the young Palestinian woman explained an almost opposite understanding of Jordan. After asking to be off the record for this delicate portion of the interview, she described the rifts between the two groups as contrived and spoke of a Jordan for “indigenous” Jordanians as well as for its large Palestinian population in a shared mission of culture as resistance. Her work sought to avoid contentious political difference and focused on Arab and Sham unity instead.
These two interviews set the identity landscape of Amman as we vacated the big city and headed south towards the Jordanian desert. There, we were hosted by tribal Bedouins who also have a special place in Jordanian national myth as the group who welcomed in the Hashemites as their monarch. Therefore, they enjoy specific privileges and preservation within the discourse of who is reallyJordanian.
Overall, my Friday in Jordan clarified my sense that each narrow identity group has a distinct and important relationship with the state, regime, and royal family. This day was a microcosm of my curiosity to understand how each presence fits together to attain the functionally stable but foundationally insecure modern kingdom.
