For several days this month, the streets of Dearborn in south-east Michigan resembled those thousands of kilometres away in Damascus as cars blocked thoroughfares and motorways in the “Arab capital of America”.
Syrian Americans waved the green, white and black flag of the revolution, honked horns and danced in the streets as they learnt that loved ones back home were celebrating the lifting of a half-century of repression.
Right in the heart of the celebrations was Mahmoud Al Youssef, a native of Deraa province in southern Syria.
“We spent the whole night driving up and down the street, with the 'free Syria' flag on the front of our car,” he told The National. “I can’t describe the happiness inside me.”
He said that during the rebels' lightning advance from Idlib to Aleppo and then south to Hama, Homs and beyond, one specific TV image made him feel sure that Bashar Al Assad's regime had come to an end, even before it officially happened on December 8.
“There was a very well-known government checkpoint with a lot of soldiers, close to the border with Israel, called the ninth district, where they used to always detain me,” Mr Al Youssef said. “It was the kind of place that had been there a long time, and it was impossible that it would be easily taken down.
“But then, when I saw it on TV with no soldiers, even before Assad had left, I knew that once that had been taken over, that was it.”
The civil war in Syria, which began in 2011, fuelled the largest refugee crisis since the Second World War, with thousands of people like Mr Al Youssef eventually finding refuge in suburban Detroit. He recalled being detained by Syrian government security forces in 2013 and how, at around the same time, the army killed dozens in his hometown of Ghabagheb by shelling the area.
“I recall there was no reason for arresting me; it was random,” he said. “I remember they even arrested people who were on the side of the regime. They had lost their minds.”
Three of his brothers perished in the war, he said. Mr Al Youssef and his family fled Syria at the end of 2014 and stayed in Amman, Jordan, for about two years before being granted refugee status in the US.
Despite their physical distance from Syria, seeing the scenes of rallies and public gatherings in Damascus and beyond brought back waves of joy – and sadness – for many in Dearborn. The scenes from Sednaya prison, where thousands of political prisoners had been detained over the past 13 years, have laid bare the abuses perpetrated by the Assad regime.
For 22-year-old Yaman Harli, from Deraa, life in Syria is a distant memory, a collection of scenes he views on his phone every day. Although he was only 12 when he and his family fled the country during some of the worst violence in 2014, the experiences of life in Syria followed by five years living in the Zaatari camp in northern Jordan are etched into his memory.
“A few of my cousins died. One was 15 years old and was shot dead by a sniper in Deraa … [another] was imprisoned by the Assad regime,” he told The National. “There’s freedom [now], but it’s sad that we are seeing how many people were imprisoned and killed there and what that was like for people. It’s rare to find anyone who was detained by the regime in 2011 or 2012 who is still alive today.”
Many in Dearborn are worried about what might happen next in Syria and what that could mean for the wider region.
“I’m deeply concerned for what’s going to happen next,” said a man originally from Iraq who runs a furniture store and asked not to be identified. “[Israel] is bombing everywhere, and you can wake up and be bombed [if you are in Syria now]. I just say that people should be praying for Syria.”
It has been a hard path for many, especially those who have arrived in the US over the past decade as refugees. Many Syrians have been forced to compete with Yemeni refugees fleeing conflict in their own homeland for housing and job opportunities in the wider Detroit region.
Many, including Mr Harli, whose family also run a furniture store, on Warren Avenue, are now thinking of going back to visit – or one day moving back permanently.
He said he is keen to see his country as an adult for the first time but is under no illusions about the challenges Syrians will face. “I can go for a visit, but my future is here. My parents are talking a lot about going back next year,” he said.
But not everyone in Dearborn was overjoyed by the fall of the house of Assad. Mr Al Youssef’s daughter, Rama, has been the target of negative comments at school from some who supported the Assad regime, which has been upsetting for her.
“They say stuff like: ‘You don’t really know the truth or what’s really going on,’” she said.
Rama added that one evening, when out celebrating in their car adorned with the “free Syria” flag, other cars drove aggressively around them, in a move she felt was meant to intimidate them for celebrating Syria’s newfound freedom.
Lebanese and Iraqi Americans represent some of the largest Arab communities in the area, with many having roots in southern Lebanon, where support for Hezbollah, an organisation that had helped prop up the Assad regime, is strong.
But for Mr Al Youssef, who does deliveries and recycling work around Dearborn, the past cannot be undone and the feeling of freedom for his homeland is something to be savoured.
“It went on for so long that we were completely hopeless. But there is a meaning to life now. I take pleasure in what I eat, what I see, in my family around me,” he said. “But mostly, I take happiness in the fact that I’m Syrian.”
