I used to think that I had few war memories, and none tragic…But it is striking how little events and reaction stay etched in one’s mind, just waiting to resurface. For example till this day every time I hear jet airplane flying over me ( the Israeli air force still pay us visit every couple of weeks) a large grin transform my face and I immediately think “youppi! No school tomorrow!!”
I know this sound strange, but I spent my childhood and adolescence in a school adjacent to the biggest Palestinian refugee camp in Lebanon (Ain El Heloueh) consequently every week or so Israeli raided the camp and we took a day off, in short I have a Pavlovian reaction to the sound of jet airplanes.
Another memory that I was reminded of recently (last year with all the explosions rocking our poor country) is the special state of mind people get into when fear grabs them that affect all their actions. I used to look out of my window and immediately know that something happened by the way people drove or walked.
Finally some scars lie hidden deep inside ones mind… One of mine just surfaced weeks ago when I watched a film about the Lebanese war called “Zozo”.
The memory is about the priceless handbag mum kept ready by the door with all the irreplaceable papers: passports, house deed, bank paper…
I used to have nightmare about that bag, forgetting it and then having to go back, under the shells and smoke to search for it…
Unfortunately, on the fateful day mum forgot the bag…
2 comments :
We can say that our generation had a quite creepy childhood. I hope that our children won’t have the same fate.
So you're an NEIGB student?
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