Omar, 68, speaks with her son Mohammad at her house, in Tripoli, north Lebanon.
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Tired and aching with arthritis, Dahouk al-Omar lugs a purse stuffed with all her personal documents to the catering kitchen where she works 12 hours a day. As an unregistered refugee in Lebanon, the 68-year-old says she never knows when she may need them to prove her identity or in case she gets stopped by the police.Omar When the Supreme Court upheld the ban last week, the family feared Omar may never make it through the fog of confusion: who gets a waiver, how family members can be reunited, at what cost and how long it may take.A backlog of cases built up as the Trump administration worked its way through different versions of the ban, the first of which barred Syrian refugees until further notice. The travel ban has thrown yet another obstacle in the way of Syrian refugees whose status in neighboring countries is already uncertain.Omar was never registered as a refugee when she arrived in Lebanon in 2016 . The tiny country of 4 million, which is hosting more than 1 million Syrian refugees, asked the U.N. to stop registering refugees in 2015, hoping to deter new arrivals. Omarin was the first family member to flee the war, when the government launched an offensive in their hometown of Bab Amr, in central Syria.
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