ramz

I grew up on the fringe of the Lebanese ‘civil’ war. I didn’t live in a high-risk area, and I missed the bulk of the war. I do have some memories of those days, though, most of the stories here, are from my own memory, the first, I don’t remember.

The early years of my life were spent in Sidon, right during the Israeli invasion. My dad, a surgeon, was away, doing what surgeons do. My parents tell me that around the time I started to speak, he was back at home, but apparently, it took me a while to stop calling him ‘mr.’ and start calling him ‘dad’.

Much later, in the late eighties early nineties, I’d already been living in Byblos for a few years. One day (or one month, the span is jumbled up in my head), the fighting started between the LF and the Lebanese Army (led by that orange megalomaniac), and we decided it would be safer to leave our fifth story flat and stay at my grandma’s place. I remember walking down the stairs (the elevator wasn’t working, surprise surprise), being told to stay away from the windows because of danger from stray bullets. Halfway down, I remember I’d left my He-man action figures at home. War? HE-MAN! Master of the Universe! I (or maybe, I had one of my parents go in my place?) went back up the stairs and got my red bag that contained Heman, his pet lion, skeletor, she-ra, reptile, and the gang. I couldn’t live without them.

The only other thing I remember from that period was that my dad had back trouble, and sleeping on a mattress on the floor wasn’t the best thing for it. I worried about him not being able to stay standing for hours to operate on people… or was I just worried about affording he-man’s latest nemesis?

Again, the timeline is jumbled up, but during the last Lebanese/Syrian battle, we were up in our village house, sandbags covering the entrance and windows. We were all sleeping in a bundle on the ground floor (1.5 meter thick walls)… my favorite aunt’s main worry was the chandelier hanging above the mattress. She would sleep below it and make me and my brothers sleep to the sides. My baby brother’s crib was strategically placed in the middle of the room. We always worried he’d be scarred by the war… he’s not exactly normal, but I wouldn’t blame that on the war
Ceasefire was a nice time. Our village was strategically place halfway between a Syrian base and a Lebanese Army one. The former being the excellent marksmen that they were, we had more than our fair share of shells falling around the house. My grandfather would take me out during ceasefire (what the hell kind of war is it when they announce that they’re taking a break??? Sorta like British tea-time in Asterix and Obelix) and we would gather shrapnel. Small pieces of death-metal. That’s where my passion for metal probably started. Sometimes the pieces would still be warm. Ahh, childhood.

The war was now over, but kids being kids, we had to reinact battles all the time. The village was split into three parts, the lower section, the main part (which we called ‘the village’, naturally), and the higher area. Children joined the ‘army’ of their part of town. It started out as gang roaming the streets, evolved to slings loaded with beans and what not, and ended when I burned an eyebrow when a firework rocket backfired instead of flying at the enemy.

VW Golfs were all the rage in the early nineties. Summers were spent in the village, and, with my older cousin visiting, mischief was rampant. Our neighbor had just bought a Golf (I still associate that family with VW Golfs, regardless)… so me and my cousin naturally filled his gas tank with water. That got us grounded for a few days. Toiletpaper grenades (toilet paper rolled in a bunch, soaked in water, shaped into a ball and left to dry and harden) were cause for more punishment… My girl cousin, having overheard our latest plans at world domination, was locked in the bathroom for a few hours. THEY found her an hour (or was it just a few minutes?) later, and punished us when we got back home. Good times.

I wanted to regale you with tales of my “war memories” but i’m drifting into more general childhood stuff… thing is, I woke up today, and started recollecting these stories, I always fear forgetting this stuff, that once, a couple of years ago, I created a diary software that ended up being more of a memory book than an actual diary. Anyway. Bye.