Today I met a Syrian girl who I met first at Idomeni. In March. She is 17 years old. Her name is Qamar. When I met her at Idomeni she was sitting in International Rescue Committee’s women's safe space, an orange-tented oasis in the middle of the mud. She was full of cheer. Full of optimism. Longing to get to Germany. A beautiful smile. She remains the same today despite the fact that she has waited nine months since then. She is from Aleppo. She's here with her mother, father and brother. Two of her brothers are in Germany. 

At today's event to mark 16days, there was a screening of the IRC project, "Vision not Victim," a project that allows young refugee girls and teenagers for a few minutes to be what they want to be, to be their dreams ... and be photographed. Up there on the screen were images of young Syrian girls photographed in Amman with big dreams. Astronauts. Lawyers. Pilots. And in the room watching were so many young girls, many of whom were Syrian but Afghan and Iraqi too, who are being asked to wait and wait and wait with very little in the way of hope that they will be able to continue their education, move towards achieving their dreams anytime soon.  

So many lives. Lives here in Greece, lives there in Jordan squandered because of war. Squandered too because when they flee war, when they flee the bunker bombs of Aleppo, the safety they find is more punishment than sanctuary. Forced to live in places without dignity. Thought of as a strain as opposed to the great, resilient promise that they are.  

Qamar has learned four languages since she left Idomeni. German, Spanish, English and Greek. She already speaks Turkish.  

How are you learning? I asked her.  

"Myself," she said. "I want to use the time. I don't want to let it go."  

December 2016