Death and destruction
My visit to Canada has been marred by the fighting in the Middle East. No matter how much I enjoyed myself the night before, one image was always there to greet my wake: my aunt listening to the news in Arabic, watching horrified at the scenes of destruction and chaos in the places where she once lived. My cousin would occassionally tell me in a hushed voice "she was in my class" or "he was a friend of Roger's." I could never reply, but would bite my lip and hurry away towards something less depressing. Each day a phone call would come assuring us that our family was okay, that the bombs had leveled houses down the street, but everyone was alright.
***
While we were in Montréal, I noticed something bizarre. I hadn't used chapstick in about a week, but the humidity was so high that my lips were not chapped anyway.
On the bus ride back to New Hampshire, I noticed something else. My lips were chapped in the bottom middle only, and the cut was so bad it was bleeding. I wondered what could have caused this, and ten minutes ago I have just figured it out. I have been biting my lip so much in the last two weeks that I am beginning to bleed.
I am worried sick about my family. Since the communication towers have been bombed on Sunday I have not heard from many of them. I haven't heard from Aumo Leslie or his family in over a week--but yesterday my dad confirmed that bombs hit in the area that he was staying. I don't want to assume to the worst...
Worse that that are the arrogant bastards so far removed from the conflict but seem to have a "plan" for peace. Twice now I've overheard some stereotypically pigheaded snob sarcastically suggest that the U.S. and Israel should just kill all Lebanese people and the conflict will be solved.
***
Meanwhile I'm walking a tightrope. My extended family blames both Israel and Hezbollah. Many Lebanese in the cafés I visited in Montréal refused outright to buy any products from Muslims, believing them to be "the root of Hezbollah" and the problem. I don't believe that's right, but if I tell them that they sneer in my face. "You should talk. You've never even BEEN there."
Several friends have pointed accursatory fingers at Lebanon and called us all terrorists. I don't like how many of my Jewish friends have talked about me as if I am firing rockets myself. "It's your people's fault that people are dying in both your countries. YOU started this conflict."
Others refuse to talk to me at all, despising my attempts to stay neutral in a fight that is causing pain on all fronts.
Growing up, I never had to choose between my family and my friends. My family always welcomed my friends in open arms and so I could be with both at ones. But now, whoever I'm with cries of hatred and death, of rains of fire and destruction. It's a perverted version of a childhood growing experience. I am silent for fear of losing everyone that matters to me.
***
We've been fortunate so far; only one person I personally know has died, and that was from hospital overcrowding (she was on life support before the conflict).
But I pray for my family's safety. And I pray I continue to have the strength to bite my lip just one more time.
***
While we were in Montréal, I noticed something bizarre. I hadn't used chapstick in about a week, but the humidity was so high that my lips were not chapped anyway.
On the bus ride back to New Hampshire, I noticed something else. My lips were chapped in the bottom middle only, and the cut was so bad it was bleeding. I wondered what could have caused this, and ten minutes ago I have just figured it out. I have been biting my lip so much in the last two weeks that I am beginning to bleed.
I am worried sick about my family. Since the communication towers have been bombed on Sunday I have not heard from many of them. I haven't heard from Aumo Leslie or his family in over a week--but yesterday my dad confirmed that bombs hit in the area that he was staying. I don't want to assume to the worst...
Worse that that are the arrogant bastards so far removed from the conflict but seem to have a "plan" for peace. Twice now I've overheard some stereotypically pigheaded snob sarcastically suggest that the U.S. and Israel should just kill all Lebanese people and the conflict will be solved.
***
Meanwhile I'm walking a tightrope. My extended family blames both Israel and Hezbollah. Many Lebanese in the cafés I visited in Montréal refused outright to buy any products from Muslims, believing them to be "the root of Hezbollah" and the problem. I don't believe that's right, but if I tell them that they sneer in my face. "You should talk. You've never even BEEN there."
Several friends have pointed accursatory fingers at Lebanon and called us all terrorists. I don't like how many of my Jewish friends have talked about me as if I am firing rockets myself. "It's your people's fault that people are dying in both your countries. YOU started this conflict."
Others refuse to talk to me at all, despising my attempts to stay neutral in a fight that is causing pain on all fronts.
Growing up, I never had to choose between my family and my friends. My family always welcomed my friends in open arms and so I could be with both at ones. But now, whoever I'm with cries of hatred and death, of rains of fire and destruction. It's a perverted version of a childhood growing experience. I am silent for fear of losing everyone that matters to me.
***
We've been fortunate so far; only one person I personally know has died, and that was from hospital overcrowding (she was on life support before the conflict).
But I pray for my family's safety. And I pray I continue to have the strength to bite my lip just one more time.