Youth in War 4

Yesterday Friday I had a day off and I met a young Lebanese man the initials of his name NAC. He came to do an LLM at Columbia University. A bright young man 11 years younger than me. He came from a very politically active family and he himself is an activist and rightly so. He was in his early 20's when the Cedar revolution started and he participated intensely. He had his share of abuse from the authorities at that time... He is carrying a scar on his left hand from enduring a physical attack from the repressive Intelligence Services of the time and he is very proud of it and rightly so. while listening to him, it reminded me myself when I was around that same age and I put a military uniform on and fought and got hit on my left hand as well.... It is comforting to see that generation after generation of participation of the young elite led to an independent state at the end. I will get to it later on hopefully.

The funny part, because of that encounter with NAC, it brought back to my memory one more step in my family in country movement during the war.... it was between 1975 till 1978. three years of my childhood, from when I was five till I was over 8 years old.

My father's brother had a house in the middle of Kesrouan called Mazraat kferdabian...it is a beautiful village the bottom of a valley with at that time a very dangerous one way windy road that had to accommodate two cars in two different directions... on one side a very steep cliff and the other side the wall of the mountain. My dad had this big long fleetwood American car that filled up the road... it was some journey that almost cost us all our lives... I know my new friend who is originally from their, is not going to like the stories of our stay in Kfardabian. It was a different time, a different age, a lawless time that he was lucky that he was not born at that time to experience it's ugliness.

while we are making our way to the village and my dad all uncomfortable driving that road, a car was coming up from the opposed direction very fast, the coincidence is we me at one of the many turns, I think he got shocked seeing this humongous car of my dad and made a quick turn to the left stopping at the edge of the cliff. My dad stopped the car and stepped out, only to see an enrage person with a gun pointed to him mad and cursing him. He asked for all of us to step out of the car and lined us up on the wall of the mountain saying he wanted to kill us all because we were going to kill him... completely mad guy... all of sudden the cars coming down and up started gathering and people came out of them and some recognized him and came to him trying to calm him down which eventually he did.... one of the bystanders came to my dad and told him to give him 200 Liras (lebanese pounds) at that time it valued almost $100... they were big money papers blue color, I never forgot my dad handing it to him...

one of the cars escorted us driving in front to lead the way and finally we made it down to the village safe where my brother and two sisters have been there from one day earlier... we ended up staying in a hotel in the vilage square called Hotel Salame...

I made friends with the local kids and spent my time playing in the fields of grappes and i remember there was a tree of berries in a closed field but part of it was leaning over the fence to the small concrete walkway, me and the kids used to pick them and eat them until the owner used to see us and come running with a big wood stick towards us... being the son of a stranger, the owner used to come and complain to my dad and my dad used to pay to get him off his back... afterward my dad comes and play with my auburn hair and kiss my head and say have fun...My mom never agreed with him and used to say you are spoiling the boy... typical mediteranean mother...

My brother and my cousins were in the age of teenage the age of revolutionnary, and each one followed a political party... My two cousins of my dad side joined the Ahrar, My cousins from my mother side joined the Kataeb, and my brother instead of joining the Kataeb joined Heras Al Arz (The Gardians of the Cedars)... My brother being an intellectual not a fighter, he used to write for it's newspaper... the HQ of that party was in Achrafieh, in Beirut called nazlet el sioufi... One night of severe fighting, a mortar shell fell at the entrance of that villa that served as the HQ...Three young man were killed and my brother's car who he loved was completely shrapnel riddled... when he saw the guys killed that close, he decided that was not for him and he came to join us in Kesrouan.

One day my brother got in an argument with the wife of the Hotel owner, I don't remember the reason and something happened, he slapped her or he pushed her, the bottom line we left and moved further up to the ski resort of Ouioun el siman...and stayed in a beautiful Chalet... with a fire place and very cool neighbors. A lot of young friends for my brother and sisters of the same age... Every night all the young crowd used to gather in our chalet because my dad being very strict didn't allow my two sisters to leave and party... I used to stay with them and observe them because at that point n more children my age to play with... one of them used to play the guitar and they used to sing all of the songs of that time...I used to wait for the potatoes to be backed in the fire place wrapped in the aluminum foil... it was the most fascinating thing for me...

One day we got two men barging into the chalet demanding to take my brother back to Mazraa to apologize publicly from the wife of the hotel owner...I remember one of the guys had this french made paratrooper machine gun a very advanced weapon for that time. My parents asked me to go out and play and my mom whispered to me to tell our driver outside what is happening... I did his name was Antoine that I don't know what he ended up after all of these years... Antoine took his car and went to a nearby checkpoint of the Kataeb and all of sudden a have brigade came over and surrounded the building, I was fascinated how they spread all around so quickly... it is funny when you are six of age how small things fascinates you... the commander of that team which I cant remember his face very well barged in with three militiamen and arrested the guys. My God how much beating these three men got... the commander talked to my father and he told him that the HQ of the party sends you there regards and that this matter will be resolved swiftly... and sure enough the next day, the owner of the hotel, his wife were escorted with two beaten men to our chalet and they apologized... at the end of this episode my dad moved us to Ghineh to the house that I have described in the earlier chapter.... I never been in Mazraa anymore, but I promise my new friend that I will do that journey and check the hotel if it is still exist and specially that road... hopefully by now it has been widened and made more secure....