Majen’s story

I was born in 1992. I come from Yemen, a country where not a village and maybe not even a familly doesn’t count emigrants among its ranks. The Yemen is a country of internal emigration. I have never thought of emigration as a subjective, inner desire, and not to emigration without return.
But when i entered high school and had to think about the futur, i began to wonder about the poor quality of education. It was better to be able to study abroad and then come back to work in Yemen.

At the age of fifteen, I entered high school, and when I passed, I started looking for a scholarship to study. Marseille wasn’t a particular goal, nor even France. Initially, my idea was to go to Germany, Canada, Holland or any of the other countries where I could study English that I knew.

I started looking for scholarships in several places, and it wasn’t easy. But in the end, I found an advertisement for a scholarship offered by the French company Total in Yemen. The competition was fierce. At the beginning, they select 50 students, then test them in mathematics, physics and chemistry. To be eligible, you have to have passed the baccalauréat with very high marks, over ninety percent. After the tests, personal interviews are held with the company director, and before finally being admitted, the thirty successful candidates then go through a semester of intensive French language training. That was in 2012. Next came admission to the University.

A scholarship for France

I was accepted in three cities, Marseille, Toulouse and Grenoble. And I came to Marseille at the end of 2012 in November. I chose Marseille not because I wanted to, but because it was the first university to reply to me, and I needed such a response to be able to complete the visa procedures and the file for the consulate.

After six months of intensive training in Yemen, I was awarded the scholarship, which lasts for three years and is renewable for a further two years if I go on to do a Master’s degree.
I came to the Université de Saint-Jérôme to begin my studies in electrical and automatic engineering.

The aim of the company’s scholarship is to bring in twenty Yemeni students each year, ten on the bachelor’s and ten on the master’s level, the original idea being to train Yemeni managers who could continue in production and be entrusted with the missions fulfilled by the company.
My aim, in turn, was to pass the bachelor’s degree and go on to do a master’s degree. Then, once I’d graduated, to return to Yemen to work…

War broke out in Yemen in 2015, just as I was starting my first year of the Master’s program.
As soon as the war started, in March, TOTAL left Yemen but they continued to pay my salary until May. But then they stopped the payments:
I remembered what the Arab poet had said at the time:

مشيناها خطى كُتبت علينا  *  ومن كتبت عليه خطا مشاها

ومن كانت منيته بأرض قوم  *  فليس يموت في أرض سواها
(We have taken steps that were written for us *** whoever has steps there, was enrolled there
And whoever is destined to live in the land of a people *** then he will not die in a land other than this).

There were choices i have made myself but other where impose on me, for example, the city of Marseille chose me, and it didn’t really depend on me

Withdrawal of grant and loss of right to stay in France

In 2016, due to the withdrawal of the scholarship, the war in Yemen and the interruption of all communication with my familly, i went through a depression, in which i was cut from the world and everything. I began to smoke and to live a bitter experience of isolation…Then… I lost the rights to stay in France because i didn’t go and renew the papers and didn’t go and get my admission to university either after failing to go and take the exams.

So i was without papers for about a year, and i wondered : “How long is this going to last?” I gradually came out of the depression, and i started looking for solution to the paperwork problem. In fact, the possibilities varied from having a job to being a student…or being a refugee.
Because i’m a Yémeni, from a country at war, i applied for asylum. In winter 2017 i submitted my application, and the decision was not long in coming only one moth to come.

I started working at that time, after a convalescence of a year and half, and i gradually began to get a taste for life

Departure and what to take with you

Do you remember the Majen when he arrived in Marseille? And what did you bring with you from Yemen ?

Yes, there where material things and moral things. Among the material things were the leftovers cakes my mother makes, and a box of Yemeni cheese, and candy, and whats laughable here, is that i also had a can of  tuna in my bag that my mother had packed, as if i were taking a bag to prison and not to France.
The strange thing, is that i received three identical gifts from different people, three prayer mats, one from my mother, one from my cousin and one from a friend in Yemen.

The day of my departure to France i couldn’t sleep. I was late because we were in November, almost two month after the start of school, due to the unrest of the post-revolution transition period. So i’ve come here with the revolution, its feelings,  its hopes, its energy and its many concerns.

 

We were received by CROUS (Regional center for university works) employees in coordination with Total representatives in Yemen.
They came to get us from the airport, another friend and i, we were subject to a complete search of all our belongings. We had to open everything! The first problem i encountered on French territory was that i couldn’t re-pack my bags as well as my mother had managed. I felt as if i had to get rid of things i couldn’t fit back in my luggage.

Transport problems and the discovery of the train

The journey went from Sanaa to Dubai, then from Dubai to Paris, where I was given a train ticket to Marseille.
We arrived at Roissy on Friday morning and they told me I had to be in Marseille by noon, as the train left at seven in the morning. I hadn’t slept in two days.

It was the first time I’d ever seen a train in my life. I thought it was just like at the airport, especially as the ticket had the car and seat numbers. So I started running around looking for a place where I could get rid of the weight and responsibility of my luggage. I found a room with “luggage” written on it, which I assumed was where you put your luggage, just like on the plane. But the truth was that it was a “consigne” – the place where they kept luggage for a few hours! I didn’t know this, so I stood in line and when it was my turn, I asked the attendant what I had to pay. I gave her the 12 euros she was asking for, but I was surprised that she didn’t ask me where my luggage was going, nor my passport or ticket! I asked her: are these bags going to Marseille? Then I thought she hadn’t understood my question because of the limitations of my French, so I told her again in English.

I then saw expressions of fear on her face, perhaps two kinds of fear, fear of me and fear for me. Fear of me because she was perhaps wondering what I was carrying in this bag, and fear… for me because she was thinking, “This poor boy is lost and he’s going to misplace his luggage”.

She then explained that I had to keep the bag with me on the train! I was completely lost because of the heaviness of the journey, the fatigue and the unfamiliarity of a place the size of the Gare de Lyon! But I was lucky enough to come across a French policeman (n.d.a, A person in uniform) who was very nice. He gave me the opposite impression to the one I had of the police back home in Yemen: he escorted me to the train and helped me with my luggage, he took me to my seat and showed me where I should leave my luggage, and then he left me…

After the difficulties i encountered to join France, hours of travel inside of Yemen, a plane from Yemen to Dubaï, another one from Dubaï to Paris, the difficulties at Paris airports  then at Train station Lyon i finally arrived in Marseille exhausted and lost, and knowing nothing about the city.
I arrived in the Train station Saint Charles. I had the address of where i had to go. But i knew absolutely nothing of where i was. I went out of the train station, search for a taxi and loaded my stuff into his car, then i sat down next to the driver waiting for mee to get some rest during the ride… But him when he read the address he read the address and saw that I wanted to go to the Crous St Charles while we were…at the Train station St Charles ! I felt as if he was upset for a reason i understood later. He had waited a long time in the cab queue and the ride i asked him to make – from the station to the CROUS – didn’t take more than a minute.
I had hardly slept for two days, which made me drowsy and unable to tell the difference between reality and my dreams!

When i arrived at the train station, I found Romanian living in the street and washing their clothes. It shocked me. The images i saw where the opposite of what i expected of the “Great France” that I was anticipating with reflections on humanity, rights and human dignity: am I in a dream or in reality? Did I miss the right train, which would have taken me to an Eastern European country while I was asleep? Did the train somehow cross the sea and take me to an African country without me noticing? Was there an underwater tunnel that I hadn’t heard of that had taken me there?
So I decided to spend a few months in Marseille. But then I had the idea that the acceptance I’d received from other university towns might enable me to go and visit them, and see about the possibility of settling there after a while.

A friend, the 1st key to discovering the city

One of the person i got to know during my first stay in Marseille, was a young Syrian that whom i met for the first time when i came to the CROUS. He had seen my documents and knew i was from Yemen, whereas i hadn’t seen his papers.
He went in before me, and when he came out, he told me he would wait for me until the end of my appointment. I was astonished, especially as i had a stereotypical image of Arabs in France, and i was afraid that he might be a thief or a scammer. I laughed at my fate, thinking that i might have to fight on the day of my arrival ! Nevertheless i said ” Yes, gladly.” I didn’t understand why he would wait an hour if not because he was a scammer.
Unlike my expectations, he was a very nice guy. He helped me choose a student accomodation and pointed out places i needed to know about. We got to know each other, became friends and, even though we didn’t live in the same residence, we visited each other every weeks.

The young Syrian was mu first key to move in the city. He introduced me to places in particular to restaurant where i could eat, to the “Anahit” supermarket selling oriental products and also to the local library. He also introduced me to Arab friends who were doing doctoral research.

It went well, and as i had a scholarship, they gave me a room straight away. Frankly, financially it went well with the scholarship, because they gave me a thousand euro a month, and i paid 130euro in rent. Then the CAF gave me 100 euro in housing aid which bring my rent to 30 euro only.

The scholarship also enabled me to go to Yemen the first summer, as TOTAL bought two round trip tickets a year. They also paid five hundred euros yearly to buy books and study material: papers and research work… They also paid us a travel allowance for meeting with their company in various European coutries. To visit the company’s factories and their installations.

At Noailles, feeling at home

My life in Marseille went through various stages. In the first, i was still living emotionally and psychologically in Yemen, even if my body was here. I liked to visit places close to my culture and my psychological expectations : the places who shares my culture and speak my language. For example, i always went to Noailles market and Belsunce.

In addition, i began to get to know the Yemeni communities living in the city. I had met a Yemeni student who had been here before me, in the same program, and she herself had met a Yemeni family living here. She knew them because someone in Yemen had given her a recommendation to give them here. She became close to them after that. When i arrived here, i contacted her via Facebook. And she took me to the male side of the family, and they introduced me to a group of Yemenis who have been living away from Yemen for thirty years. They had an appartment in Noailles where they met and socialized. The first day i met up with Yemenis, i met about 25 of them on the same day.

I also began taking part in march and seminar, through a Franco-Yemeni friendship association, which triedto connect the Yemeni in France with Yemenis back home. It also did much of the work of the consulate in Marseille, given that there is no yemeni consulate here.

After the first year, i started to make friend with the people from my student housing. Most of the student in the university district were foreigners, at Saint Jerome. The begining was modest, or let’s say common. It was in the 13th arrondissement of Marseille. It’s a nice place, near municipal swimming pool and not far from the tram stop.
Perhaps i was more interested in the nature than in getting to know people. I visited a lot of natural places of the region. I went to Luminy, Aubagne, La Ciotat and other villages around Marseille, then in the region and then i started visiting other parts of France…
I travelled alone, via Blablacar, and most of the time i went to places where i had Yemeni friends who welcomed me. They acted as hosts and guides at the same time. And i return the same favor to them afterwards.

After, we sill say that the “Yemenis” stage has ended and the student phase has begun.

Places to play and meet people

From 2016 onwards, it was the phase of entering French life, from the moment I realized that France was no longer a temporary place of passage for me, and that it was going to become my permanent residence. All the more so since I had applied for asylum, and reality was imposing itself on me and no longer just my desires. I began to get to know the groups and individuals on the Cours Julien. There were two places I began to visit regularly: the first a shisha restaurant-café run by a Lebanese man, whose name was Yazid, now deceased, and the second a bar run by a Palestinian.
I liked both places, because I could play the board games I like, chess and backgammon. As a person, I like to play, and whenever I find a place where I can play, I go straight there. I got close to the managers and even started working for them. So I’d go out and meet new people every day!

If I found someone who didn’t know the city, I’d take them to these places where I played chess, especially the Cours Julien, which gradually became the most important place in my French experience.

Stay in France / Finding your place

Since 2014, i almost cut myself from Yemeni, especially since, during this year, i gave up religion. I became an atheist, which caused me to be rejected by many Yemeni especially in group meeting. Each time i went to a meeting , i felt rejected and heard accusatory remarks about myself. I bought my peace of mind by… gettting away from them. Playing then really became a way for me to break the isolation i felt as it allow me to meet new people every time.

At a certain stage in my life, Game became a kind of pillar that introduced me to people from Syria, Egypt, the Kurds and the French, and all kind of people!
Teaching was the first place to get to know people, then it was the game rooms then bars meeting and night life. When i started telling myself that i was going to stay here at least ten years, it helped me to open up to the people around me.

Recently , the most important pillar has expanded: i met up my (french) partners and, a few months ago, we had our baby.
A greater sense of stability and i began to feel as if my place was there.

When the Total Scholarship came to an abrupt halt because of the war in Yemen, i suddenly found myself without any income and my situation deteriorated. After a long period of depression, i started to trying to find small jobs in restaurants, bars and construction… I found these jobs through a network of friends.
I struggles in my last year of university, unable to pay the rent, so i started sleeping in the snack i worked during the day

A delayed asylum application

I thinks that the asylum process in my case was easy, because i was from a country at war.
I went to the GUDA, the prefecture, the first time at five in the morning, to avoid the queue. But my passage number was still the 20th. I waited all day, but they closed after ticket 19. So i decided to sleep in front of the door the next day, and i went there at midnight and waited until morning almost sleepless.

However i still had two people before me. I applied for asylum, and they gave me a documents that allowed me to circulate for two or three months, then another one after that, which had to be renewed each time.

Facing life

I feel like one of the victims of the war in Yemen. Not only because of my depression and sadness caused by the situation in Yemen, but also because my purse has been cut off.
I’ve been living the war hour after hour, through social networks, the phone, friends and family, every day.
I miss finding my family and sitting in the rain in my village.

Over time, the reasons for staying in France have increased, those for returning to Yemen have decreased. Especially with a child. For me, Yemen has now become a possible destination for a visit or for… temporary work.
I didn’t decide to seek asylum immediately after the outbreak of war. I spent a year in confusion, thinking I’d come back despite the war. Although there were no companies that could employ me there.

I always compare myself to the central character in Tayeb Saleh’s Sudanese novel “Saison de la migration vers le Nord” (“Season of Migration to the North”). He’s sitting on the banks of the Nile, between the sky and the water, sometimes looking straight at the sun, sometimes at the bottom of the water, hesitating between two options: climbing to the top, or diving to the bottom. We don’t choose our people, our religion, the people around us… But I’m going to decide, for the first time, for myself and for the people who love me, to live.

I knew that for me, going back to Yemen meant facing death, whereas here, I’m facing life. And by being here, it’s also possible for me to help my people in their lives, in the hope of seeing them again.

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