The morning after her arrival to Japan, Natalia was on the balcony looking out over the greenery surrounding the Arrupe and shedding tears. She was filled with unspeakable grief and sorrow, thinking of the forests of her hometown and the friends she had lost. That evening, after the rain, a large double rainbow appeared in the sky. It was a rainbow that seemed to heal wounded souls and broken hearts and pour hope into the divided land.

Alexei and Natalia have obtained residency status and have begun their lives as citizens of Kamakura. They have become accustomed to life at Arrupe and have started learning Japanese. Natalia, who honed her skills as a chef in Ukraine, sometimes serves us borscht, piroshki, brinchki (crepes), etc. We communicate with her using gestures and a translation app while living together.

We have been greatly encouraged by the growing circle of people who have learned about Arrupe for the first time through our support for Ukraine and have joined our network. At the same time, however, it is very complicated to think about the feelings of the residents from Asia and Africa who have been waiting for a long time to obtain residency status, during which time they are unable to work, their freedom of movement is restricted, and they have no access to health insurance. We strongly hope that the same treatment as the Ukrainian displaced persons will be applied to refugees and displaced persons fleeing from the rest of the world so that all can walk in dignity. May the rainbow of hope reach all!

When I stepped out of the Shinagawa immigration detention facility, I did not open my eyes wide because the world outside was so bright.

The rooms in the immigration detention facility had no windows, and I was only allowed outside for 30 minutes a day, so I had hardly been exposed to the sun during my five years at the immigration facility.

When I arrived at Arrupe, the staff offered to give me a tour of the facility, but I declined without a second thought.

Because my legs were already too tired to walk.

At the immigration office, four people live in a four-mat room, and except for free time, the room is locked from the outside so you cannot leave.

Therefore, my legs and back had become weak because I had been sitting all the time for five years without walking on a daily basis.

After that, I was allowed to rest for a while in my room. It had been five years since I had rested in such a quiet place. I am a Muslim, so I pray five times a day, and I was so happy to be able to do so quietly without worrying about other people’s eyes that I almost cried.

When I was called to the dining room for dinner, delicious-looking rice was waiting for me with steam rising from the bowl.

The main dish of dinner was fried chicken made with halal meat, out of concern for my being a Muslim.

The words that came out of my mouth after taking a bite of the fried food were, 

“The batter is thin, it’s delicious.”

M, a Myanmarese who was sitting next to me said, 

“That’s right, the fried food served at the Immigration Bureau is all batter,” to which everyone else replied, 

“The fried food at the Immigration Bureau, I eat batter, and the fried food at Arrupe, I eat meat!” 

“Arrupe’s fried food is the real thing!” and they laughed.

At the detention center, there were no raw vegetables and no fruits, so we all laughed and had a happy time eating delicious fried food, vegetables, and fruits for the first time in a long time.

For a while after arriving at Arrupe, I was in such a state of excitement…

The lush green environment of Arrupe also seemed to shine for me, having spent all my life surrounded by concrete walls, and I felt really happy to be able to meet various people and eat delicious food with happy friends.

After five years in the immigration office, where I could not do such natural things as seeing greenery, eating good food, and talking with my friends, I was able to get out, but there are still friends who are working hard in the immigration office to make such days go by.

For the sake of those friends and the supporters who helped me get out of the immigration detention center, I will first work with my friends at Arrupe and do my best here.

(This story is edited by our staff based on Indonesian H’s story)

People from completely different cultures, who lived in completely different environments and with completely different ages and personalities living together; that is what life is like in Arrupe. 

In addition, refugees have many things to deal with, all of whom have a variety of backgrounds. 

There are times when we are grouped together and have conflicts because of the differences between Asian and African cultures, 

we fight over food preferences even though we eat together, 

we argue over how to educate our children, 

we have disputes over the rules of Arrupe as a whole every time, 

there are constant disputes every day, there are arguments and complaints, 

there are outbursts by one person because he/she has difficulty speaking the language and cannot argue, and so on… 

Such is Arrupe! But, 

Everyone always says 

“Everyone in Arrupe is Family.” 

We may fight, we may argue, we may ignore each other, 

But it’s over before you know it, 

And we laugh with each other and say, 

“We are all family.” 

We cannot communicate what they want to say to each other due to language barriers, but somehow we are all laughing together, chilling with each other, teasing each other, and having a great time… 

“Everyone in Arrupe is Family.”

It’s like a real family. 

Even if we are having a bad day, we acknowledge, forgive, and support each other, and this is the watchword of everyone at Arrupe. 

One day, I heard this story. 

Everyone at Arrupe is always talking about family, not really family, but like a real family, it’s important. It’s the only place we have.” 

Everyone in Arrupe has a history of running away from their home country, having a hard time at the immigration office in Japan, and being kicked out of the place where they lived. 

We are not a real family, we are strangers to each other, but I believe that Arrupe is an irreplaceable place we have finally found. 

“If I leave here, I won’t have anywhere else to go, so this is no time to fight.” 

He laughed jokingly when he said that. 

“Everyone in Arrupe is my family.” 

Behind that phrase,

I could see the complex colors of the various circumstances that everyone is burdened with, mixed with the warmth of the friendly place they have found at Arrupe. 

But… 

“The Arrupe family is funny!” 

Loud laughter that blows away various circumstances is echoing in Arrupe today (^^)

I thought I would be at ease once he arrived in Japan, but life in Japan has been a series of hardships.

I spent 10 years on parole in Japan, once living homeless in a park for two weeks with no money to live on and no place to live.

I’ve done many dangerous jobs.

In his home country, I was a teacher and held an elite position, but in Japan, I have no prospect of making a day’s living, and my pride has been shredded.

I can’t tell my family, who believe in my success in my home country, very much about my current situation.

By Ugandan, B.

*B is not able to have his picture taken due to his job search after becoming independent, so this picture is an image only.

At one point, he alerted the police to a location used as a hideout for members of the armed group, the Liberation Tigers of Tamil Eelam (LTTE).

A few days later, while I was away from home, a member of the LTTE came and threatened my parents, saying, 

“You reported the location of our people, didn’t you.” 

“Where is he? I will kill him if I find him.”

After hearing this, I realized that I was being targeted, and I was horrified that the threats had reached my family.

I could not rely on the police, so I fled by leaving my house, but the LTTE attacks did not end.

While working as a bodyguard, I passed through an unpopular wasteland when the car I was riding in came under fire.

It was obvious that I was the target since the dozen or so cars driving in front of and behind me were safe.

A few years later, the village mosque was bombed.

Six people who were waiting for the results of an election vote died, including my own uncle.

After years of these events, I decided to flee to a foreign country because I felt it was no longer possible to escape domestically.

Many years have passed since I came to Japan, but I still have deep scars from Sri Lanka.

The wound on my arm is painful during the cold winter months and hurts every day when I go to bed.

I have trouble sleeping because of the trauma and sometimes I feel in a daze during the day.

I am sure that terrorists will kill me if I return.

I want to do my best here.

Please help me, people of Japan.

Mr. F is unable to have his photo taken due to attempts on his life, so the photo here is an image. Please note that this story was transcribed by our staff based on Mr. F’s story.