Yesterday, someone who randomly shows up on IRC in a channel I’m in – a 17 year old from Lebanon, living alone, his father in another land – posted a story I felt deserved a wider audience. I’ve love to hear your thoughts – as would he. I’ll make sure they get passed along if you post them here.
He apologizes in advance for his bad English. (I think he’s doing just fine – far better than my Arabic!)
Â The Story of Lebanon
come here son and sit down and let me tell you about the problems in the country. one time my dad told me the same thing.
Long, long time ago, god made the planets, he made this tinny country and he named it Lebanon. its environment was gust like the magic. Its men was its real men. How clean was the sea, washes its mountainâ€™s feats. What a good ______ that came from its magic, the grapes where green and fresh, the apple was Â THIS size. Â The fisher throws the net, it gets out full. It wont finish from holly days, dancing, dabkays, and playing. The amount of the birds singing, leaves with a tired voices at the end of the day. People sleeps at night keeping the doors opened. There used to be friend ships, safe, with love and sharing. The humans used to be peaceful going to his work with smiles.
My grandpa died and did not continue the story. years passed on this story, and my father continued it to me.
He told me suddenly like the speed of the light it came as a touristic country. Its name became east Swiss . Its night lighten like the day. The people are coming and going, planning where to spend there night. The trourist used to come and stay for the whole summer, the beer and food. The candies and the junk food. The living was great and safe. No religions nor clan parties. We used to agree with each other. Thatâ€™s our houses. No singer in this world did not sing for Beirut. â€œBeirut you peaceful livingâ€ ,â€Beirut you good of the worldâ€, Â â€œBeirut you opened minded from street of sool sool till manaraâ€. â€œ beirut your beautiful on your friendly on rawsheh and the olivesâ€. From the mass of songs, its looks like they have hit it an eye.
It doesnâ€™t know from right or left. It turned to worse and worse suddenly. Its men became hatefull, when they sit to gather smoking and talking about people, when they have the sign, they start killing each other. Each became having 2 homes. first is on somewhere, and the dungeon is his second home. People became homeless no Â first nor second. People objected and said no, we could not know whoâ€™s fault. Why did this country got ripped like this??!?!?!?!?!!! The judgersâ€™ sake puts on otherâ€™s wrong. And we are getting the results with the civil war. Suddenly came in the strangers between us and Israel attacked. Thatâ€™s my cousin or thatâ€™s my friend. but anyhow the people destroyed the country on them selves . Every thing became expensive. 100$ for the gas you take little from it. To get your breads. You have to wait an hour on the line, men and women in this line on the cold and the hot, someone tries to get cross the line with a gun on his wrest.
On the days of your grandpa, our doors used to be opened. On my days its still the same, but this time its broken. I donâ€™t forget that story, I donâ€™t forget that moment, he turned off the cigar and told me am going to sleep. After long time, I called my son at night, so at least I can say the things he told me. I told him the cannon has stopped, we did not know where and why. When they stopped the cannon they bombed us the second day. The problems came with us. There where no enough no mercy. Over it we pay taxes. About the schools, its same as the gallon of oil. Â In order for your son to get education you should first sell the house. The citizens went crazy. The dreams became like a visa.
I wish for you my son, to continue the story to your son. Donâ€™t continue it in Canada, continue it in here, in Lebanon. God bless you, and good night.
Omar Al_ Natour