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One week of war: Every decision is a gamble


I turned on the radio in the kitchen to listen to ‘Sawt al Shaab,’ the communist station that provides updates on the situation, interspersed with nationalist music. Fairuz came in over the static, singing about what a wonderful place Lebanon is. All of a sudden her voice cracks with static and morphs into the robotic voice of a man speaking Hebrew-accented Arabic. It is the same recording that my aunt heard on the phone at 4 am. I jiggle the antenna, trying to get away from his creepy pronouncements but there is no escape. I turn off the radio and leave the kitchen. 

Pity the living and the days to come


Everything in Beirut was so calm I even went home for lunch. There were ongoing airstrikes on the south but no reports of causalities yet. Kinda wanted to come with me to the office when she saw that I was going back there. The minute we reached the street, we heard the sounds of four huge consecutive explosions. I don’t remember what I did - maybe I jumped - but when I looked at Kinda she was pale. It took her two seconds to get back down to earth and say the magic words “boom boom ha ha”. And she kept repeating that for five minutes, automatically. She was not smiling. She was asking, “Boom boom ha ha ?”. 

Photostory: LA drops banner against Israel's war on Lebanon and Gaza


The past few days protests were held in Israel, across the Middle East and around the world condemning Israel’s US-backed war on Lebanon and Gaza. The the largest demonstrations, involving thousands of people, were held in the United States and in countries closely allied with Washington�s war aims in the region — Britain, Australia and Canada. In downtown Los Angeles, activists held a rally on Saturday, July 22, to protest Israel’s war on Lebanon and Gaza. They dropped a banner with raining bombs. The image was traced from a large image created by Brazilian cartoonist Latuff — although they spun it to demonstrate the role of the US in this conflict. 

Lebanon's Phoenix Rising


I am not writing this article to condemn the atrocious Israeli war on Lebanon that started on that abyssal day of July 12, 2006, nor to debate who is mainly responsible for it. I am writing to give hope - the hope that every Lebanese citizen needs right now. Hope for every family who has lost a child, a mother or a father. Hope for every family whose house was destroyed. Hope for every Lebanese student who thinks he has no future in his country anymore. Hope for every investor who withdrew his business from this country. In Majida el Roumi’s song to Beirut, she sings, “Beirut, lady of the world, get up from under the ruins like a pine flower in April.” 

Terrorist Donkey Joins Family in Death


The paramedics and witnesses could not differentiate between the pieces of flesh of the eleven-year-old Nadi al-Attar, and those of his grandmother, 57-year-old Khairiyya, or the donkey’s, scattered on the branches of lemon and boxthorn trees on both sides of the dusty road in Beit Lahia, north Gaza. Yesterday, the old woman and her three grandsons Nadi, Shadi (14), and Ahmed (17) were riding a donkey cart, heading to their field to collect ripe figs that fetch a good price in Gaza’s markets when Israeli rocket hit their cart and blasted two of them into small pieces. 

In Lebanon, We Have No Bomb Shelters


Today all of Lebanon is under attack, and the target is the country’s civilian population. The facts speak for themselves. Bridges, tunnels, highways, hospitals, national gas storages, and privately owned gas stations have all been bombed by Israeli planes, ships, and artillery. Churches, mosques, village roads, state electric and water plants, homes, grain silos, food factories, and trucks transporting gas and goods have been destroyed, and civilians ordered to evacuate their homes have been targeted while searching for refuge. 

Art therapy with kids in a Beirut shelter


Many organizations and volunteers have started to work with children who were displaced with their families from many parts of the country, and who are now filling the schools, parks and different establishments in Beirut. The goal of current efforts and programs is first to encourage the children to express their feelings and anxieties about the war, and second, to give some time to their parents to relax a bit during the days. In addition to drawing, many volunteers are reading with children, singing, playing, or even just sitting and talking. 

"The only thing she keeps asking about is Ahmad"


She’s much prettier than her pictures, Hweiyda, despite what they did to her. The one safe eye she still has is green, sad, and beautiful. The stitches that go all the way down from her right eye to underneath her neck are almost as deep as the look in her eye. She was sitting on her bed, very silent, very small, so small. Her aunt was trying to get her to eat. Jelly, custard, cheese, chocolate, fresh orange juice. There was everything on that tray. But only when she saw the books my colleagues brought her did she have something that looked like a twinkle in her eye. The one eye they left her. 

The Descent into Hell Is Optional


On the way to Jean-Marie’s flat, we had walked along the Corniche, a paved boardwalk that fronts the Mediterranean. It was surprising to see that people already were returning to public spaces. A few weeks earlier, the Internal Security Forces had begun to prevent small-scale venders from pushing carts along the Corniche, but now, in the space opened by the chaos of the war, they were back. The Lebanese, after decades of intermittent disruption, have evolved into the most flexible of survivors. They were out again, defiantly. 

Another Day in Beirut


Two days ago, sitting on my sister’s balcony in Achrafieh, I saw an American helicopter. Well, I heard it first. I followed my ears with my eyes. There it was in the sky, making slow, calculated progress. My brother-in-law, Hasan, explained to me what type of helicopter it was. It had two sets of spinning metal blades. Both sets of blades were chopping into the air furiously, loudly and indiscriminately, in order to keep itself afloat. I had seen this type of chopper before, flying over Baghdad three years ago, again in July. Funny how memory works. One war reminds you of another.