A guide to Beirut bombings

Prelude: This is not at all how I was intending on christening my blog, however, since this is going to be a blog about living in Lebanon, a prominent theme will be that one cannot plan ahead, disaster will always knock on your door unexpectedly. 

  Today is a regular day, I am sitting in a coffee shop in Hamra quietly reading a book, I hear that a new bomb went out in Beirut. Countless thoughts race through my mind for the first few seconds, confusion fades off in a minute or so then the survival reflex kicks in. If you've lived here then you know what to do next: Take out your phone, check where the explosion took place and stop what you’re doing immediately in order to go outside and try to call your parents although you know the lines do not work. Think for a moment and remember that the internet is not down, open your Whatsapp, text your family, your dearest friends and whoever lives near. Is everyone ok? Good. Now think of extended family, coworkers, and other friends. Are those people ok? Good. Now open Facebook, write a status about being fed up with this country or write something more inspiring, after all this is a window to showcase your creativity.

I did just that after last week’s explosion which took place a few meters away from where my brother jogs every morning.  I did just that today, we’re all fine thankfully though my cousin happens to live a few meters away from today’s bombing site. I wonder if the people I care about will escape the next surprise Beirut is preparing for them.

In the midst of my frustration I have to ask the question: What happened to you Lebanon? I know we were never a safe nation; as a matter of fact I grew up listening to stories of how my parents survived countless civil war anecdotes. Like every other parent they wished our generation could be spared this Lebanese legacy, alas we weren’t. I admit to growing in relative peace but I dare not say I have grown in a safe haven. I have been lucky enough not to be trapped in a shelter during the 2006 war as the nearby houses were brought to the ground one by one. I also was not trapped inside my room as the glass windows crumbled to the sound of bullets in January 2007 and May 2008. If you are not from Lebanon you might think I am creating apocalyptic scenarios yet classmates of mine have lived through these experiences in their teens and survived to tell stories. Unlike Hollywood movies though, they survived only to live through this routine of checking up on everyone in their life once or twice every year. In a dysfunctional Lebanese way, it was all fine, we survived an explosion or two per year and we picked ourselves up, changed our Facebook profile pictures to something patriotic for a few days and moved on. Now I am not sure how to define a civil war but with two explosions in one week and a different sectarian flavor to each, I sense we are getting closer to most definitions.

Let us forget about the impending doom for now and think about our present. Matter of fact is we are being robbed of our humanity. We are being turned into robots that perform survival routines, robots that zap through TV channels and express some discomfort to the escalating number of casualties, robots that move on the next day because otherwise they would run out of oil then rust to death. They would rust since if they stand still they will expose themselves to thoughts and thinking about the situation in Lebanon promises to be fatal to their soul.

In the end, this is not a message of desperation, neither is it a message of hope, this is just a humble reflection by a cyborg hoping to maintain what is left of his humanity.

Ali.