Once upon a war...

I was only six years old when Israel invaded Beirut, and from that terrible time, I kept only one memory: My brother and I are playing on the balcony when thousands of colourful confetti rained down on us. We picked them up and they were flyers with writing on them. A carnival! There's going to be a carnival in Beirut soon! It was all so exciting. We started collecting the flyers and making paper planes and throwing them down the street. Every thing was full of colour. I remember it being so beautiful. The memory vanishes after that...

Years later, the family is having a reminiscing moment about the war, and I mention the confetti, wondering if we ever went to that carnival. My brother looks at me incredulously, "What carnival? These were flyers thrown by Israel warning of the threat of the PLO and explaining that we, the Lebanese, are not the target of their invasion". I was speechless... The six-year-old me must have tried to protect herself by conjuring this pleasant memory from what could have been awfully frightening. Of course the invasion ended up costing over 20,000 civilian lives, with 40,000 wounded. Because that's how "targeted" Israel's wars have always been.

I share this today because it's been on my mind for a while, the ability of a child to protect herself by erasing scary memories. And it keeps taking me to the children of Gaza and Syria, and all the horrors they are seeing. How powerful does their defense mechanism have to be to reinvent a bearable memory from all this? How will they ever be able to unsee images that the strongest of us shudders at in one glance? These aren't flyers falling from the sky, after which you can pack up and leave. These are phone calls and text messages informing you that your life as you know it is over, with nowhere to go, nowhere to hide and no means to forget. This stays with you, and your childhood is lost, forever.

It has to stop... It must stop.

Labaki's Ou Hala La Wein: Form without content?

Is it finally here? The film that will get the international recognition that Lebanon has been waiting for? Ou Hala La Wein (Where Do We Go Now) has it all. It's got a rustic feel with a modern look. It's got an excellent cast, who can also sing. It's got drama and tragedy, with some pretty witty comedy. It touches upon, but never really gets into, a war that baffled many, enough to intrigue but not too much so as to take away from the drama. It's directed by a strong, confident, young woman who can also perform. I can't imagine how this film could possibly go unrecognized.

Untold tales of courage: Confetti, hoover bags and a shrapnel

So here's Story 3 in the series of tales of courage by women during the Lebanese Civil War. You don't need to read Story 1 and Story 2 first but I've linked to them anyway. I am trying to collect as many as I can and so far it's been an intense experience. Here's the tale of Yola Sowan, in the summer of '82, during the Israeli invasion of Lebanon and later the siege of what was then called "West Beirut". The story took place in that part of the capital with the first shelling from the Israeli fleet. Yola didn't write the story, she relayed it to me in all its details. So this is me, telling you her story, in her voice, with her blessing:

Untold tales of courage: Najla's story

A few months ago, I attempted to start a series of posts about courageous women who lived some amazing stories during the Lebanese Civil War. I started with one about my friend's mom but then never pursued it. Until today. The story for this post is very special to me, because it was written by my own mother. After some digging, I found out, from her obviously, that she actually kept a diary of everything that happened to her during the war. I asked her which one stood out more than the others, and she gave me this piece during the Israeli invasion of Beirut, in July 1982. What's below is my own translation, under it is the original in Arabic (more or less). I hope you take the time to read it, because it truly is a story of almost mad heroism that I am proud to be at least genetically linked to. And I think that with the direction this country is headed, it's very appropriate to remember the war, because this really should not be an option ever again...

Untold tales of courage: A series?

A few posts ago, Loulia left a hilarious comment on what she dubbed "the most vocal, loud and intimidating" people on earth: post-menopausal Arab women. As soon as I stopped laughing, it occurred to me that Loulia was not joking. There are actually so many layers of truth to her statement that it got me thinking, "Who dares talk back to these women?" And it's not just the post-menopausal. I think this applies to many Arab women who could intimidate the living hell out of any adult male. Maybe it's because they have brought humans out of their bellies and know it. And they know that others know it.

Anyway this inspired me to attempt a series of posts - if I gather enough stamina and material to see it through - in recognition of some amazing feats of courage by women and mothers, who stood up to what they believed in, be it their families or causes, despite the extraordinary duress they were under: The Lebanese Civil War.