A Country Far From Home-NA

This summer, I learned the true meaning of fear. One may say that fear is when someone scares you from behind, or when you ride a very scary or steep roller coaster. Through my experience, I have recognized that the most terrifying and horrendous thing in life is when you don’t know if your loved ones are safe or in danger. When you’re facing that situation, your life seems like a long nightmare.

On the 12th of July 2006, my basketball team and I were getting ready to depart from Egypt and return to Lebanon.” Rej3een 3ela lebnen mabsouteen (We’re happily returning to Lebanon)” were the cheers my teammates were singing before leaving Egypt. That’s when the news came in. The Lebanese airport had been bombarded by Israeli war planes. At that moment, my heart stopped. I knew that this was the beginning of a war that Lebanon has been dreading for years. More importantly, I acknowledged that it wasn’t the day I was going to see my parents. The little children with us in Egypt began crying, and the parents would sob every once in a while. I could almost taste the wretchedness in the air.

It was as if Judgment Day was getting nearer. The grass didn’t seem green, and everyone’s spirits died. The coaches constantly said, “Beirut 3am titdamar ooh sarat madinet ashbeh (Beirut is getting bombarded and is now a ghost town.)” This gave made me realize that the coaches were petrified too. One thing kept crossing my mind; my parents. The thought of my parents hearing bombs blasting in nearby cities and maybe even in their city made this calamity a much worse situation. I didn’t know how my body would still function if my family were to be affected by the bombs. I kept repeating the same words in my mind,” What doesn’t kill you only makes you stronger,” in order to keep a smile on my face.

“Kazafou al dahye (They bombed the suburbs)” were the two words, many kept repeating. The suburbs of Lebanon were very near to where my family was living. I could almost feel the throbbing horror that my family was going through. I tried to stay positive, but that proved impossible because I couldn’t do anything to help my family stay safe. Although I talked to my parents daily, I couldn’t get over the reality that I was safe in Egypt, and they were in Lebanon, vulnerable to any danger.

In some families, a relationship between parents and children is a very fragile thing. I knew that in my family, it was the opposite. My relationship with my parents was as strong as a bullet that the devil himself couldn’t stop. I wasn’t going to let this war make a problem that would get between me and my family. I wasn’t the only person who was disturbed by his parents’ absence. Even the older kids would start to tear up whenever the thought of their parents crossed their minds. I think that this, in a way, gave me the permission to display my feelings in public.

During this catastrophe, I always had the feeling that a big and vital part of me was missing. In my eyes, no news about the war seemed any different. It was all the same old dull news. I began to have the feeling that my soul and spirit were beginning to rot every second that ticked by. My soul became just another putrid part of me. One week and a half later, on July 23rd, I heard the best piece of news that I was probably going to hear in my entire life. We were returning to Lebanon! I was going to go back into Lebanon. When everyone was leaving the country, I arrived in Syria the next morning, and took a cab to Lebanon. This was a phenomenal feeling of getting back something that seemed lost forever.

This trip may have been the worst holiday trip in my life, but might simultaneously be the best. I learned lessons that one may spend his whole life trying to learn. In my opinion, the lesson that was most important is- You don’t know what you have until it’s gone. I have had the privilege of spending time and sharing love with my family every day of my life. During this summer, I realized how exceptionally impossible it would be to live a normal and happy life without them.