Timisoara's multicultural party has a serious purpose
Timisoara's multicultural party has a serious purpose
They gather in a small house in the historical Iosefin neighbourhood. Refugees and residents mingle to the sound of live rock music. “Where are you all from?” asks the host. Hands shoot up. “Afghanistan, Romania, Iraq, Russia, Nigeria, Syria, Morocco.”
Welcome to Timisoara’s coolest multicultural party.
“Try this rice with raisins,” says Fareshta from Afghanistan. “My mother made it.” We chat. I want to meet her for coffee next day, but she will be tied up, taking an important exam as part of her university computer course.
The room is full of refugees, trying to make a success of their new lives in Romania, and residents like party host Flavius Ilioni-Loga of the ecumenical organization AIDRom that supports them with counselling, classes, accommodation and multicultural events.
Back at the AIDRom house, refugees with small children are enjoying a creative afternoon with Simona Ilioni-Loga, a psychologist and art therapist. Using toilet rolls and coloured paper, they are making animals such as rabbits, penguins and hedgehogs.
Fareshta’s mother, Fahima, who made the rice and raisins for the party, is there with her younger daughter, Farnat, 9, who is sticking a cotton wool tail on to a pink rabbit.
“We like coming here, it’s relaxing,” Fahima says. “Our family has had a stressful time.”
Fahima, who was a biochemist, and her husband Abdul, an engineer and journalist, decided to leave Afghanistan two years ago when their home city of Herat became too violent, and join relatives already in Romania. “My brother and sister were killed in a bomb there,” she says.
“We want to make a new life, a peaceful life, a normal life, to laugh and smile.”
Life in Romania has not been easy. Abdul has been reduced to washing cars. Their elder son is working in a fast food restaurant. The two youngest children are at school. Fareshta, 19, while working part-time in a shoe shop, is studying at Timisoara’s Universitatea de Vest (West University).
The first-year final exam is over and she has passed. Smiling, she comes out of the library with her friend Laila, 25, also from Afghanistan. The two young women are in the same class, studying informatics and software engineering. Laila, who is married and has a six-year-old son, has passed, too.
“We chose IT because there are good job prospects,” says Laila. “But more than that, we wanted to do something fresh and modern, not connected with the past.”
The past is far from inspiring. Fareshta remembers “men with beards” (the Taliban) pushing her mother around. Laila, who is from the Hazara minority, has seen worse. “The Taliban used to stop the school bus, pick out the Hazaras among the students and shoot them,” she says.
The women could hardly have hoped for careers in Afghanistan. “It’s hard to get jobs there because women have to be accompanied to work by men,” says Fareshta. “And there’s nepotism and corruption in the labour market.”
“We were tired of all this,” says Laila. “We want to make a new life, a peaceful life, a normal life, to laugh and smile.” The men in their families support their aspirations.
“My husband is happy for me,” says Laila. “He wanted to study too but he says, ‘no, if I can’t, you try, maybe my turn will come in future’. He is a good man.”
Fareshta and Laila have hard work ahead of them to complete their degrees. They are aiming for jobs in big companies, or possibly to start a business of their own.
For the refugees, it’s not just about partying but socialising and networking for a successful future in Romania.
