Imagine waking up after hearing an ear-piercing blast outside your house, while your brother shakes and yells at you that you need to get out of the house cause you are getting bombed. Disoriented, you put your shoes on, grab your old backpack and fill it with the little stuff you reach to grab while your brother yells hysterically that there is no time.
A couple of months pass by, and by now you’ve been in several refugee camps, you are absolutely sure that you´ll never be able to go back home, at least not the home you knew. Never able to enjoy a hot cup of coffee in the morning before going to work or hit the snooze button again and again because your bed is so cozy and you don’t want to get up. You don’t even have a sense of what home is anymore.
Living in a country where nothing remotely like this has happened recently, it’s really hard to imagine what a refugee must be actually going through.
I mean, can you imagine losing your home? And bear in mind that we are not just talking about a physical house, we are talking about daily routines, friends, family, possessions, we are talking about the whole idea of what home is to a person. The refugee crisis is a true catastrophe, there is no other word to describe it.
