I was born in Lebanon many moons ago and came to Australia when l was a year old. In fact, l had my first birthday in Cyprus as my parents waited for their Australian visa, as we had just fled Lebanon at the start of the civil war.
Lebanon has had many wars since then. It is a very complex and complicated country. Loved by many. Ruled by few. Years of occupation by those who felt they were owed a piece of it and corruption by those who sat in its Parliament but were entranced with power, have left it debilitated.
In spite of deep-rooted adversity and often a bleak future, the Lebanese people are like no other. They live, love and dance like there is no tomorrow and maybe its because they are not sure if there will be.
I was 15 when l visited Lebanon for the first time. I think it was the first time in my life l had truly fallen in love. I have been back 9 times since. Every time l go back, I step on the runway with Beirut in front of me and just breathe in the air. I don’t smell the diesel. I smell Lebanon and the feeling that part of my heart has come home.
Lebanon is nothing like what you see in the main stream media. In fact, the media does it such a disservice. It is vibrant in culture, food and nightlife. You can ski in the mountains in the morning and swim in the Mediterranean Sea in the afternoon, with no desert in sight. You can sit beneath the Cedars of God and smell the pine or you can have shisha at one of many cafes or clubs. You can overdose on falafels, zaatar pizza or shish tawook like no other. It was called the Paris of the East for a reason.
Lebanon is only 10,452 square kilometres. You can travel from the south to the north in a day. My favourite part of Lebanon is my village in the northern mountains. Everyone knows everyone – strangers are questioned to ensure they should be there. I walk around the village and see where my parents grew up and lived. The history, the tradition and the rituals. Sitting under the fig tree at my grandparent’s house in the afternoon with a Lebanese coffee in hand is a peace my soul didn’t know it needed. This village is now helping to house many displaced women and children from the South.
As l sit here in my safe home, in my safe country, my eyes are glued to social media and news channels, watching the terror in Lebanon unfold. Many have opinions but many fail to understand the geo political issues of Lebanon and the region. Many have thoughts but few understand the Lebanese people and the beautiful country our heart is breaking for.
The Lebanese are not oppressed people. The women go to the beach, wear bikinis, obtain an education and puff on shisha in public wearing whatever they want. This is not to say that women’s rights are not without their challenges in the Lebanon. They are still affected by a religious personal code, there is no civil code covering personal status, there are high rates of domestic violence and child marriages and women can still not pass on their nationality to their children.
Whilst there are many challenges; to see the way my beautiful Lebanon is depicted in the media here and around the world is an injustice. I have dealt with micro aggressions and unconscious bias my whole life. I have stopped counting the number of times l get asked “where are you from” and if l say Australia its usually followed by, “no, where are you really from”. I have been told that l should be used to terrorism and terrorists because of where l come from and that I don’t need a bank l can just get my money from under my mattress. I have even had people express shock that l didn’t change my name when l got married – how can my Lebanese husband allow me to do that.
Intolerance and ignorance are what has got us here. The racial rhetoric and ignorance has intensified and that worries me for myself and my children. I worry for my family in Lebanon, are they safe and how bad is this going to get. I am worried if they have food, and clean water and medication – everything we take for granted here. I worry for the continuous trauma they endure every time a bomb goes off and the nightmares the children are having.
Australia is my home. I am Aussie through and through. I thank God every day that my parents came here in the pursuit of a better life that is safe and secure and full of opportunity. Nevertheless, there is a piece of my heart that belongs to Lebanon and always will. I love its mountains, shores, churches and mosques. I love its orchards and olive trees and old men who sit in the village squares. I love the positiveness of its people in the face of adversity. As part of the diaspora in Australia, I feel guilty that l can write this in the safe comfort of my home but the Lebanese people in Lebanon do not even know if they will have a home tomorrow.