Maeve Higgins: Little Amal tours the Big Apple on her journey across the world

A giant puppet of a 10-year-old Syrian girl resonates with so many people

Little Amal visits the Scottish Event Campus (SEC) in Glasgow, in November of last year. The 3.5 metre tall puppet of a 10-year-old Syrian refugee started her journey in Turkey on 27 July 2021.

New York is a city where wonderful, sad, and strange things happen every moment, most going unnoticed by the millions living here.

Residents and visitors come and go, vanishing when they leave, barely visible when they’re here amongst the crowd.

Not so with Little Amal, a giant puppet of a 10-year-old Syrian girl, who has been walking all around the world, looking for refuge.

In July of last year, she left Gaziantep in Turkey, home now to hundreds of thousands of displaced Syrians. Since then, Amal, whose name means ‘hope’ in Arabic, has travelled over 9,000km across 13 countries, representing all children fleeing war, violence, and persecution.

She arrived in New York on September 14 and left on October 2, having trekked across all five city boroughs to draw attention to her message — don’t forget about us.

I saw her at Bryant Park in mid-town Manhattan, where she appeared for about 15 minutes one weekday evening, much to the astonishment of passers-by and the excitement of those who had deliberately come to see her.

There were fiddlers and singers and a festive atmosphere as Amal’s 12-foot frame, with a partially animatronic face, walked and swayed to the music, reaching out to touch peoples’ outstretched hands.

Little Amal walks around Grand Central Station in New York. Picture: AP Photo/Seth Wenig

I spoke to a small boy named James in the park, with his mother and her friends. They came to the park especially, having just missed her appearance at St Patrick’s Cathedral earlier that week.

James explained that he had been really close to Amal as she swayed to the music and walked among the crowd.

“I love her. I’ve never seen a puppet that’s that big; I’ve seen them in videos that big, but never in person.”

I ask him to describe her.

“She has long hair with a bow and a skirt with multiple layers; it’s pink and red and purple. Her hair is a brownish black, and her skin color is kind of like my skin color.”

His Mom’s friend Elisha stands close by:

"I love the message. She’s bringing awareness to the refugee crisis around the world, and that’s important to me."

Another friend, Marcy, agrees, and points out that Amal is not a cartoonish puppet; her expression is quite serious, making her message more effective.

“I was getting teary-eyed. She’s not smiling. She’s taking it all in.

“Sometimes when she’s closing her eyes, it seems like it gets too much. She’s representing so many people. It was really moving.”

It takes four puppeteers to bring Little Amal to life: one on each arm, one supporting her back, and one inside walking on stilts. This fourth puppeteer also controls ‘the harp,’ a complex tapestry of strings that animate Little Amal’s face, head, and eyes.

The puppeteers are right there, but you don’t notice them — Little Amal seems alive in her own right.

Sarah Johnson, a New Yorker, said she was struck by how different the experience has been, seeing Amal in person instead of on social media.

“ I think something has been imbued in her that’s really easy to connect with.”

She was impressed with the turnout, “You get the sense that people really wanted to be here for this fleeting moment; it’s not that long. I love that about it too; it feels ephemeral and beautiful.”

Symbolising every person on the move

At a time when hundreds of refugees are arriving in New York from the Southern Border each week, sent on buses from Texas, Little Amal symbolises every person on the move looking for safety.

Manuel Bagorrow was born in Zimbabwe and traveled the world as a concert pianist. Watching Little Amal made him reflect on the difference between the ease with which he crosses borders, compared to how impossible that is for most refugees.

“I’ve been incredibly fortunate in the way that I’ve moved around the world without real issue or stress, but to have this embodiment of this very different type of experience, and an awareness of what that might mean to people, that was beautiful to witness.”

21-year-old Baivayle Malan moved to the city from Cote d’Ivoire a year ago and echoed that sentiment.

“I think it’s amazing; I really love how people were kind to the puppet, and the scene beyond the puppet, the diversity, and the kindness.” I asked him how seeing this scene unfold made him feel about New York, and how Amal’s welcome compared to his own.

New York is full of immigrants, but I think because there is some extraordinary situation beyond her that made people really welcome her.

He laughed: “Because when you are in New York, people don’t really look at you — they live their lives, you live your life!”

Raghida Dergham is a Lebanese journalist who lives between Beirut and New York.

She had heard of Little Amal but came across the event in Bryant Park by accident and was deeply moved by seeing her there.

“I really feel for the Syrians. They’ve been through a horrible time and are still going through a horrible time.”

The Syrian refugee crisis remains the largest displacement crisis in the world, with no end in sight. After more than ten years of conflict, nearly 5.7m registered refugees — including almost 2.7m children — still live in camps, informal settlements, and host communities in Egypt, Iraq, Jordan, Lebanon, and Turkey.

The Lebanese people have their own struggles now, with economic collapse and political corruption, but they still host over half a million Syrian children.

Ms Dergham continued: “The fact that it’s a young girl means a lot to me, especially at a time when we are witnessing what is going on in Iran against women.

“To me, this is representative of the big struggle that women and girls are having in that part of the world, and to see the symbol here in Bryant Park is really impressive.”

Seeing New Yorkers embrace Little Amal was heartening and important.

One in three of us are immigrants ourselves, and with new refugees arriving every day, it is vital to keep that humanity and energy in reserve, for the very real people she represents.