02/18/2026
Une belle rencontre avec Joey qui a mené vers d'intéressantes conversations, suite à un voyage qu'il a fait en Syrie l'année passée.
« [...] Suis-je vraiment chez moi ? Et qu’est-ce que "chez moi", moi qui suis né et ai grandi au Québec, loin de la guerre et des horreurs vécues par ma famille – cousins, oncles, tantes, grand-mère? La Syrie est un pays qui m’habite, mais où je n’ai jamais habité. J’ai reçu l’arabe comme langue maternelle, et toute ma vie a été bercée par la musique de Sabah Fakhri, la cuisine du Levant et les valeurs syriennes : hospitalité, générosité, altruisme. Je revendique une identité mixte, celle d’un individu avec un pied en Orient et l’autre en Occident.
Pourtant, j’appréhendais ce retour. [...] »
Pour la citation originale complète en français, c'est par ici: https://syrianeyes.world/2025/05/09/joey-hanna/
"[...] Am I really home? And what does “home” even mean for someone like me, born and raised in Quebec, far from the war and the horrors endured by my family—cousins, uncles, aunts, my grandmother? Syria is a country that lives within me, yet one I have never truly lived in. I received Arabic as my mother tongue, and my entire life has been lulled by the music of Sabah Fakhri, Levantine cuisine, and Syrian values: hospitality, generosity, altruism. I claim a mixed identity, that of someone with one foot in the East and the other in the West. I had not set foot in Syria since 2010. During my last visit, I was already questioning this dual identity. My Arabic is not perfect—maksour (broken)—and my expressions are frozen in 1990. My cousins reminded me that my clothing, my walk, my way of being were not those of Syrians my age. Could I truly claim this Middle Eastern heritage?
I spent two months in Syria, with the privilege of supporting the UNHCR, the UN Refugee Agency team in its efforts to help refugees and displaced people. I had inspiring, shattering, and unforgettable encounters that reignited my questions about identity. One evening, on my way back from the Old City to my apartment in Mazzeh, I opened up to my taxi driver. He had experienced exile in Germany before returning to Syria for lack of roots there. His children, however, remained in Europe, in search of education and a better life. He said to me: “Question your identity as much as you want, but this country is yours as much as it is mine. I hope you feel at home here. [...]"
★★★★★
Portrait of Joey Hanna by Youssef Shoufan | Montréal | 2025-05-09
To read the complete story (originally in French): https://syrianeyes.world/2025/05/09/joey-hanna/)
