As usual, we got out of our Spanish class at 12p.m. on Wednesday 13th. I hear some of the students talking about Israeli attacks on the south. It does not seem to be very weird; it has always been in the head of the news each night. I was in down town Beirut far from the south, and was heading towards Hamra. In the cab, people are talking again about the attacks; a guy gets a phone call from a relative. Things must be worse than I thought. Although nothing seemed to be wrong on the streets I started to wonder what was going on in the south and worry whether it has gone too far this time.
Thursday 14th I wake up early and call Karen, the friend I usually go with to the Spanish classes. She is almost ready to go but I am still wondering if there will be classes. My mom is a bit worried about me going to class; they have already bombed the runway of the airport in Beirut. My friend assures me, half serious, half joking, that we would not have to worry about them bombing anywhere in Beirut because they have already bombed the airport. I give the impression that I am indifferent about what is going and tell my mom not to worry. I get in the car, breath, pray then I turn on the music and try not to think about what might happen. I pass by my friend to pick her up and head towards down town Beirut. The parking place where we usually park is closed. I ask my friend to go check if the institute is opened. It is, there are few students in front of the door but they don't know if there will be class or not. We search for another parking place. There is only one open. It is a big one; we will surely find a place to park inside. I close the windows then reopen them a bit to make sure it will not brake if there will be some near bombings. It is hot, the sun is shining. I put on the front glass an aluminum cover, I laugh with my friend saying that the reflection of the sun will keep the airplanes from targeting anywhere near my car. We get to the institute and go to class, there are only few students. The teacher of one of the classes is not here. However, my teacher Maria wants to have class. When we're done our teacher tells us: "Hasta Mañana" (see you tomorrow) we laugh hoping that she is right and that we won't have to miss classes. We go down, the roads are empty, and all the shops are closed. As we walk in the down town district that was usually crowded with tourists we notice that the car roads are closed. I can only see military people and a guy carrying his video camera. As we get closer, we could see more military all sitting under the shade of the trees. They are looking at us with a weird look wondering what we are doing in such circumstances here. Similarly, we were looking at them wondering why there are so many militaries. Did something happen whilst we were in class? I started to feel my heart beats speed up. We got to the car and changed the subject.
When I got to my house, my parents have already packed some clothes and food; we are going to the mountains where we usually spend summer. It is a small village situated in Mount Lebanon near Aley. Other than the fact that my parents love spending their time there and would rather be there if something bad happens, they were convinced it is safer. My father and brother are already there. I took the Spanish book with me hoping that it will be over the next day and I would be able to go to my Spanish class. My mom bought some extra food because we don't know how long we will be staying up there but I don't want to believe that. We started the car and headed towards the mountains. It is not far it's a 45 minutes ride. Then my mom remembered that we have to put some gas to the car, actually we have to make sure it is full because it will be more
expensive soon. There are almost 15 cars in the station parking in a random way, waiting their turn to fill their tank with gas fully. While waiting, we heard on the radio a man saying that there is no need for people to rush to fill their cars with gas, there is enough stock for 2 months. We neglected what we heard, we were waiting for more than 5 minutes now, it will be stupid to leave, there are only two cars left in front of us, so we waited.
UPI Photo/Norbert SchillerThe night of Thursday-Friday was yet, the most frightening. I could not sleep, then I hear something exploding at about 4.30 a.m., I hear it is close, I am not yet an expert to know whether it really is or not. I get up and head to my parents' bedroom my mom is awake and is turning the television on. Breaking news, I don't want to know what is happening I just want to get some more sleep. I go back to bed and have a hard time sleeping. However, after 1 hour I fall asleep helplessly.
During the week end I was hoping the war would be over soon and I will be able to go back to my Spanish lessons on Monday. Saturday and Sunday were a mixture of fun and worry. My two close cousins are here in the mountains with all the family, we watch the news talk about what's going to happen next have lunch and dinner together. Although my mother told me to always eat home, people might not have food for along time, but it is ok, we're family.
I forget we're Monday, I forget about Spanish classes. all the days seem to be the same: wake up, hear the Israeli airplanes while eating breakfast, going to see the cousins, spending some time watching the news-when the electricity is on, having lunch, betting on when the war will be over, again hearing the airplanes and then an explosion, wondering what they have bombarded this time, feeling relieved it's not near, getting angry they destroyed this certain bridge that cost 50 million dollars. The most devastating part of the news is watching people with different nationalities –Arabs, Americans, French, Canadians, Australians, or Lebanese with a different nationality– leaving Lebanon. They say it was supposed to be the best summer, economically speaking, for Lebanon. That hurts, they did not only kill the people but they destroyed the work of men, the infrastructure, and the whole economy of Lebanon.
During the first week I had an abdominal pain. I stressed a lot and was afraid without quite showing it. I figured out it will not help and after three days I was feeling much better. It is weird to say that but war actually did do something good for families, for my family at least; we were all gathered during breakfast, lunch and dinner. We talked, we played cards, and we even played "monopoly" a game we found hidden with all our childhood games, but I always felt as if we were lying to ourselves when we laughed it was because we wanted to hide our pain, but it helped. The farthest place I went during this week was to Aley, a 5 minutes ride. We went to an internet café to check our emails, respond to our friends living abroad telling them that we are still alive, that we left Beirut and that we hear on the news about people dying but we are ok.
During the second week end, we, all the people living in my village and aged between 16 and 20, decided to organize a day camp for the kids staying here. We met 3 times discussed the program, the theme, the games and the rules.
Tuesday 25th, first day of camp, all the children are gathered in front of the church where the camp would be held. We were thinking about placing a white cover over the place so the sun won't bother us, f
irst we laughed about the idea that Israeli might think it is a hiding place or a camp for Hezbollah followers but then we reconsidered the danger, so we preferred to cancel it, and tolerate the sun gratefully. I gathered my group, the 7 and 8 year olds. First day they were 10 last days I counted them, 15. The camp was free of charge, the municipality backed us up, and anyway it was impossible to ask the parents for any fees in such circumstances. Parents were thanking us and asking how they may help. It's amazing how I forgot about war during the four days of camp, it was something very far that I only remembered when during prayer when all kids were silent, I was able to hear the airplanes flying. I never thought I would be thankful for this but, thank God; the silence never lasted for more than 1 minute. The first day was exhausting, fun and messy. Second and third day were much easier although full of games. The fourth and last day was more tiring. Songs, small plays and dances were on the program for the closing night. All the people staying in the village came to watch. They loved the performances and laughed. Perhaps they needed this laugh to change a bit and think of something else than war. The parents of the 48 kids were present; there was no work and no excuses for absences. We even prepared some games for parents during the presentation so they would laugh and feel the change. While my colleague was presenting the following act, we could hear the airplanes. The five years old Raphael said: "These are Israeli airplanes." One of the leaders told him: "No, it's only a car." So Raphael said: "Don't lie to me I know these are airplanes, ssshhh can you hear them? But it is ok, they are far." Minutes later we saw a distant light falling from the skies behind the facing mountain. Some kids were amazed, others indifferent, but none panicked, we knew it is not heading towards us, we were relieved, but that meant it headed towards other people. Other people are going to be the victims, if it's not you, it's somebody else. The second week passed really quickly, I enjoyed the camp and it helped me forget about our reality.
What I appreciated most in this camp is that it taught me tolerance. It taught me how to learn and how to deal with others, accept the different ideas, and learn from the kids' creativity, patience and acceptance. Although my village is a Christian one there are two Muslim houses and one Druze house. We invited the kids, and they accepted our invitation. While Christians were praying "Our father" in the church, Muslims were praying their own prayers and that did not make a difference, on the contrary we found that we had more resemblances than differences and we learned from the differences that we had.
Now I can hear the airplanes, they seem to be close; actually, they have been closer than the usual these past 2 days. They are still approaching... it's like the sound of a strong wind, constantly approaching... you pray it would stop or go away... and then it does, you hear silence... you're relieved... and so I continue my writing. I wonder if someday I will pray hoping it will go away but it won't... And then there are the inspecting airplanes they are called the M.K. everyone knows the names and something about the airplanes now. The M.K. airplanes do not scare us, they are only for inspection. Their sound is much softer it's like the sound of a fly next to your ear.
Saturday 29th, the camp is over, my day seems empty. I go to church because we have to clean up after the camp, moreover, the service is today at 6.00 p.m. I had lunch then my brother, my sister and I decided to go to Beirut. It has been more than 2 weeks since I was last there. The roads are empty, we keep away from the trucks, we're afraid they might hit a truck. More than 450 trucks have been targeted for the last 17 days. We stop to fill the tank with gas, in this station you can only fill 5000 L.L (3.3$) plus you have to wait for your turn for almost 5 minutes. It is ok; we will continue filling the car from another station. The next one is closed. On the following one we stop, a guy looks at us then says: "no more gas left." We know that he keeps the gas for the customers he knows, it is fair. When we approach Beirut we stop at a station, we fill the tank until it's full "11,000 L.L" we have to keep it full we don't know when there will be no more gas in the stations. We stay in Beirut for almost 4 hours, call friends, see some, watch cable and then we go back. We cannot spend the night here while our parents are still in the mountains. Who knows what could happen? On our way back, my brother tells me to open my window a bit and hang on. We are going to pass next to an electricity factory that has not been bombarded yet. We have to pass next to it fast, hoping that they won't bomb the site now. We pass. We're relieved. I close my window. We put on the radio; we rarely listen to music now it is always on for news. A guy is talking; he is saying that there is enough gas for the following week. And then it will be over unless they get some from outside Lebanon. We are concerned about our car left in Beirut; they might puncture the tank and steal the gas. My brother tells me that's what they used to do during the past war. Soon it will get expensive, plus, the only road still linking Lebanon to Syria was bombarded yesterday night. Getting gas into Lebanon will be hard.
World press photo 2006 by Spencer Platt
Sunday 20th, I wake up at 11a.m. we stayed up late last night with my cousins talking about everything and nothing. Our talk was mainly about what is happening and we tried to make our talk a bit more fun, so we made up jokes and stories about what is happening. Then I hear my parents talking. Israelis bombarded a place where displaced people were hiding in, they killed 52 people in Qana a village in the south, most were women and children. Israel said Hezbollah was somewhere near. Monday 31st, I wake up at 12.30p.m. I can hear the airplanes. I go to the kitchen to have breakfast. There is no electricity; I can't use the microwave so I can only use the oven to heat water. I have to make sure I don't waste gas.
Picture by Celine Khairallah
After lunch, the electricity is on; I turn on the television to see what has happened during the night. LBC is putting some pictures of a southern village called "Bint Jbeil" all the houses are broken and it is empty. Then the reporter starts talking, he says that he went in to the village with the Red Cross and that they could not go in by car, they had to walk. They even shouted to see if there are any survivors left. They found elders, few knew their names and ages the others were in a panic state and did not know their names. Then he talked about another neighboring village. After the ads, they write "July war". It strikes me that we actually are on the last day of July. Will it become the "July–August war"? Or worst, the "Summer War"?
Then I hear my cat "Leo". I go brush his hair. His eye is swollen I have to tell dad to take him to the veterinarian. Then I remember the reporter when he was saying that they found dogs eating the bodies of dead people in the southern villages. And I remember that it is not now the time to take good care of my cat while kids are being killed. So I clean it and go back to watching television. They are talking about a 48 hours seize fire. I don't actually understand it and would rather do something else. Go to my cousins' house. They live 2 minutes away.
Cut a square paper
fold it in half
and once again
open one of the two sides
and press on it
like this :)
do the same 
then fold one corner
and the second
flip it
and fold the upper corner
past the lower edge
fold the sides
symmetrically
flip it
and then fold the tip
flip it
now fold it into two
and fold the wings to a shape
VOILA! 
d the college parties which marked me most. 
After voting we went straight to pick some peaches. We climbed on the trees and brought two types one with hair and the other without any hair on the outside. I volunteered to climb the tree and get every single peach, we had to pick them all because dad wanted to put some kind of bug killer chemical so we won't be able to pick the peaches or eat them for a while.
Celine's fiance Stratis came with 2 other greek friends and one lebanese friend. They were touring around looking at how elections were going in different areas. Rejmeh was not a hot spot for elections, but definitely worth coming there for a good meal.
ing.
irst we laughed about the idea that Israeli might think it is a hiding place or a camp for Hezbollah followers but then we reconsidered the danger, so we preferred to cancel it, and tolerate the sun gratefully. I gathered my group, the 7 and 8 year olds. First day they were 10 last days I counted them, 15. The camp was free of charge, the municipality backed us up, and anyway it was impossible to ask the parents for any fees in such circumstances. Parents were thanking us and asking how they may help. It's amazing how I forgot about war during the four days of camp, it was something very far that I only remembered when during prayer when all kids were silent, I was able to hear the airplanes flying. I never thought I would be thankful for this but, thank God; the silence never lasted for more than 1 minute. The first day was exhausting, fun and messy. Second and third day were much easier although full of games. The fourth and last day was more tiring. Songs, small plays and dances were on the program for the closing night. All the people staying in the village came to watch. They loved the performances and laughed. Perhaps they needed this laugh to change a bit and think of something else than war. The parents of the 48 kids were present; there was no work and no excuses for absences. We even prepared some games for parents during the presentation so they would laugh and feel the change. While my colleague was presenting the following act, we could hear the airplanes. The five years old Raphael said: "These are Israeli airplanes." One of the leaders told him: "No, it's only a car." So Raphael said: "Don't lie to me I know these are airplanes, ssshhh can you hear them? But it is ok, they are far." Minutes later we saw a distant light falling from the skies behind the facing mountain. Some kids were amazed, others indifferent, but none panicked, we knew it is not heading towards us, we were relieved, but that meant it headed towards other people. Other people are going to be the victims, if it's not you, it's somebody else. The second week passed really quickly, I enjoyed the camp and it helped me forget about our reality.
