STRONG WOMEN BEAUTIFUL MEN w/Wasim Arslan

In Strong Women and Beautiful Men, Celestine Raven is traveling around the world to meet colorful people, in order to create a sense of a global village. In this episode, Celestine stayed in her hometown of Amsterdam and met the Dutch’s most famous Syrian Singer Wasim Arslan. In 2016, Wasim fled from Aleppo to Amsterdam. With the ending of Assad’s regime in Syria last December, he could finally go back and touch the soil of Aleppo.

CELESTINE: When you say “sweet missing,” what do you mean?

WASIM: You know, we call it in Arabic hanin, which means nostalgia. It’s that feeling of “I miss this”—but it’s a warm feeling. But then I wake up… and I wake up in the diaspora, you know? That’s what I said in the song: I wake up in the night alone… It means the reality is harsh. It’s different from what we wish and what we dream.

Because we wish to be in the place where we feel at home, where we belong. It doesn’t make sense to be separated. And it definitely doesn’t make sense to take away people’s rights—or to separate families.

​CELESTINE: But there’s also the right not to be at home. The right to have to live.

WASIM: Exactly. Separating families is a big thing. It’s so painful. Over the years, I’ve learned just how painful separation is.

CELESTINE: And then you went back.

WASIM: I went back because…

CELESTINE: Fortunately, in December, things changed for the better.

WASIM: Things changed—big time. Big time.

CELESTINE: And you could go back.

WASIM: Yeah. After believing it was impossible for so many years, I had always believed I couldn’t go back. I focused only on moving forward—not looking back—because looking back was painful. Looking back didn’t make sense. So I moved on. I ran away as far as I could, because there was no way back. Mentally, I had prepared myself for that. And then, suddenly, I could go back. My mind couldn’t process it. I could hold my phone, book a ticket, and take my body there—but I couldn’t believe it myself.


CELESTINE: You showed me some images. It was so beautiful to see you arrive, covered in cloth—and then, suddenly, surprise!


WASIM: It was insane. Just insane. It felt like a dream becoming reality—but one you’re so aware of while it’s happening. It was incredibly powerful.


CELESTINE: You see all those faces… you’re hidden underneath, and then the cover comes off. They see you. You see them. Had they changed? What was it like?


WASIM: Of course, people changed. But it was still the same family I left 13 years ago. The same family I was returning to.


CELESTINE: All of them?

WASIM: All my family—my aunts, uncles, cousins, mother, father, sister—and all their kids. No one knew I was coming. No one. Just two or three of my cousins who helped organize it. No one knew. And then—bam!—there I was.

This had always been a dream for me. Here in the Netherlands, I’d dream of just appearing among them, even if they couldn’t see me—just to feel their warmth, to smell them, to share a cup of coffee… and then disappear again. Just imagining it gave me peace. So when I was under the blanket—that was exactly what I wanted. To be there, without them knowing. And then—suddenly—“Hello, I’m here.” It was amazing. A miracle. Even when I crossed the border between Lebanon and Syria, I couldn’t believe it.

CELESTINE: After 13 years…

WASIM: Yes. Because in October—I went in December—on October 29th, just two months earlier, I was at the Turkish-Syrian border saying goodbye to my parents. I thought it was the final goodbye. ​My parents were living in Istanbul. I had brought them there, because they couldn’t live alone anymore. They were older. My dad’s health was very bad.

CELESTINE: You stayed in contact with them while they were in Istanbul?

WASIM: Definitely. But I said goodbye at the border, knowing I couldn’t cross. It was home. It was family. But I couldn’t go with them. And they couldn’t come back. If they entered Syria, they couldn’t leave again—because of politics, because of the rules.

That day, I released a song called “I Will Return.” And two months later, the regime fell. Then I released another song: “My Homeland Is Calling.” Everything happening—it felt like a miracle. We were living it.

So when I stepped into Syria, I just looked at the ground… “Am I really here? Is this real?” That feeling stayed with me for eight or nine days. “Am I really here? Am I really hearing all these Syrian voices?” Everyone speaking in the Syrian dialect—it was beautiful. It felt amazing. And I remembered so clearly—my memory of Aleppo felt engraved in stone. The moment I saw a street, I remembered exactly where it went and which stores were there. The entire city just downloaded in my mind. Of course, some places were completely damaged. Others, partially. But Aleppo is still Aleppo. And it will be rebuilt again. It’s a beautiful place.

CELESTINE: Did you notice changes in your family? In people’s mentality?

WASIM: People have been through so much. You can see it—they’re tired. They’re done. Their hearts are closed just to survive, because if you’re vulnerable in times of war… you suffer. ∎

Watch the full episode here:
https://awarenow.us/video/swbm/wasim-arslan​

Find & follow Wasim on Instagram:
@wasimarslan