By Michal Bardavid 

Between December 17– 20 I was on assignment at Gaziantep, Turkey, a city bordering Syria where thousands of Syrian refugees have settled during the ongoing conflict. During this visit we also visited the border town of Kilis which is unique because the number of Syrians living in this town has now surpassed that of the local Turkish population.

Below are some of my reflections following my assignment… 

December 17

Our first story was on Syrian refugees. Aleppo has just been taken by the Syrian government, so it is a significant development for the conflict. I’m curious to listen to them. How are they feeling in Turkey right now? Do they believe they will ever go back? How is life for them here? 

We are interviewing a family. A father of three children. His story – just like thousands of others – is heartbreaking. He lost one of his children during a bombing in Aleppo. His house was bombed and he was forced to flee with his children. He tells us he was smuggled into Turkey. My heart goes out to this man. I feel pain, but as a journalist I know I must not allow that to reflect in my behavior. I think many people think or assume journalists must be either really tough or heartless…I’d probably think it too. How else would someone stay composed while listening to these horrifying stories? Personally, I find some strength from the fact that I will be able to tell their stories to a wider audience – they are important stories that the world should know. Many want to talk, they want to express themselves, and we’re helping them do that.

December 18

Today we interviewed a Syrian former commander who is now the spokesman to Al-Shamiya Front, one of the main rebel groups that fought in Aleppo. We’re going to talk about whether they (as the rebel groups) feel like losing Aleppo is the beginning of the end of the war. This is not the end, he says. They will not stop fighting. Aleppo is just one city – they will focus on the next one, Idlib. He says he can’t enjoy life. How could he, he asks, while his country is being torn apart? I agree with him. I’m not taking sides, I can’t as a journalist, but I do understand him… and I think he can feel that. I make sure he can feel that.

It connects us on a human level. 

December 19 – early hours

Aside from journalism – I work in the field of psychology. I’m a psychological counselor and a dance therapist, so it’s been hard to come to the border so often, see so many traumatized people, and report on it. But it was the children who got to me most. Whenever we go to a camp, they run towards us, they still want to interact. Today during my break, in between interviews I visited an orphanage that I came to a few months back. We reunite, talk, and laugh and I show them videos of other children. We end with a group hug. It’s like medicine for my soul.   

December 19 – late night

The Russian ambassador to Turkey has just been assassinated in Ankara. I can’t believe it!

I keep reminding myself that I am a journalist and I am not meant to be emotional, but I am shocked. Will it change how I feel about my safety when I am in Turkey? I’m concerned, but I pull myself together and gather all the facts. I have a job to do. We are doing back to back “lives”, talking live to the TV news studio, on the assassination. Time to get back to work. 

December 20

Turkey is currently hosting over 2.7 million Syrian refugees. And this is the official number, but some people think it is probably closer to 3 million. Though the Turkish government has welcomed these people, the flow of so many Syrians has also created some fear among Turks as well. The cultures are quite different, the language is a barrier. Today I meet Yasemin, a 13 year old Syrian refugee girl who is speaking to me in Turkish, the local authorities have put on language classes, her eyes light up when she tells me she’s the top student in her class! I feel happy for her. 

Journalists aren’t meant to be emotional, but I leave Gaziantep with hope, thanks to Yasemin and her twinkling eyes.