Once upon a time. My beautiful Lebanon.

By Monday, January 15, 2018 0 , , , Permalink 1

I have often wondered what happened to our brave ancestors…

These beautiful stories we heard our grandparents talk about, and the Hakawati in Sanayeh repeat are the essence of our existence.

In fact, I believe the key to understanding our country’s multifaceted mix is to listen and learn more about these anecdotes.

I will never forget the enormous endurance of our forefathers as expressed by my father.

Back in the day, he said, slogans meant something. Sacrifice hurt but encouraged people to seek more. Death was sacred, and martyrs were immortals without pictures or billboards.

They were reminisced every day. Moreover, we heard stories about their victories and dreamt about them at night. We read books, listened to tales about these courageous knights…

In villages, my father recalls, people lived a good and an uninterrupted life where nature gives birth to perfect tranquility and comfort, with peace, love and harmony as the order of the day.
Talking about the village, it is the place where you were able to see the true picture of Lebanon.

I have tried several times to catch the past by listening to my father telling stories about small details that took place before and during the civil war. It is incredible how that war embraced so much closeness and Love while being commanded by hatred and blood.

I decided to set off on the path to find my ancestors. I want to understand “why” we have come to this. I am looking not only for their names but their soul. I am looking to be amazed by undiscovered information. I want to fill in the blanks. How did they come up with the idea of forging Lebanon and why? Did they understand the complexity of its people?

Our ancestors were more than simple names and dates. They were real people with full lives. Many were killed. Many sacrificed. Many are today forgotten.



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