An eye-witness account of the Middle-East bombings: Lebanon 2006
Shelled-out building, a war-time relic from the past.
I had expected my holiday in Lebanon to be a summer of good memories ö what I didnât count on was remembering the experience for the rest of my life, and not all of it was pleasant. The first night I arrived, I could sense dread around the city ö people were walking with their heads bowed and muttering. I remember commenting on how strange that a lot of the shops had already closed. There were a few people around, smoking chaotically. Security at the airport was strict and severe, and there seemed to be such anticipation everywhere. People walking in the dark, lonely streets were chattering in high pitched voices; the tone of their voices obviously strained. Soldiers were pacing around, with guns held tightly around their chests.
The citizens were still talking in the dead of the night, their chairs laid out in a slapdash fashion and fingers fumbling with their cigarettes. The men were remarking on bombings between Lebanon and Israel. Israel, a Jewish city, is the neighbouring country of Lebanon, and the two bordering countries have been in war for many years. Passing by the city, my mind wandered hazily about their talk. Naively I thought they were murmuring about the bombings from previous years.
A picture of the bombing taken from a rooftop.
The first night I ever heard a bomb - it was loud. It was shattering. It was unbearable! That was around 2 a.m. First the tables and chairs began to shake. Then, the unthinkable became a reality. Suddenly without any warning, the most horrific sound shattered the walls. It seemed like a million balloons had come into my bedroom and popped open. I will probably remember that night for the rest of my life. Waking up, my heart pounded in anticipation. The first question that came into my mind was ö what was that sound? I suspected it had been a bomb ö it seemed contradictory to believe otherwise, especially a coincidence that many people had been talking about it. Consulting the lingering awake people in the family, they told me that it had not been a bomb.
Our evacuation to Cyprus on a ship.
Of course, the next morning the newspapers and television were agog with news and comments about what happened the night before. The newspapers were saying that the bombing had occurred in the south of Beirut, but my mind whirled with confusion. The bombing had seemed so close, so near. How could it have been in the south, which was so far away? After confirmation that yesterdayâs nights horrific events were a bomb, I dreaded the coming nights.
