THE LEBANESE......

 

*Damn.. It's complicated to be Lebanese 😉😊!* (Amin Maalouf) “We get attached, inevitably. Then, inevitably, we leave. Without even closing the door behind you, since there are no doors or walls. » The airplane takes off. Destination Paris, Larnaca, Dubai, Madrid, London, Geneva, Montreal. They are everywhere. We are everywhere. The dream of leaving, the fear of being uprooted, the nostalgia for a country that is moving away in its turn. Double-divorce. Laughter and tears, tranquility and unease in a perpetual rocking motion. The image of an individual lost in a makeshift airport, who pushes his suitcases and drags his dreams, in an incessant back and forth, wandering aimlessly, except that of escaping, watching some disembark by weariness and the others embark in desperation. Leave and come back. Then leave. Then come back again. Then leave. Then come back. This has been the job of the Lebanese for generations. What is it to be Lebanese? Is being Lebanese a profession? No, it's an identity, and it's the opposite of citizenship. Being Lebanese is reduced to very few things, character traits, tiny details that we recognize immediately. An overly elongated "I'm fine", a false hurried gait, the telephone in their ears, and who shouts instead of speaking, a Lebanese accent which one cannot manage to get rid of, self-proclaimed homeless people who open the champagne in the trendy restaurants, people we meet abroad and suddenly we understand that we are the same, no need for religion, no need for confession, they attract us unconsciously, but we do everything to avoid them because that they remind us too much of where we come from. And always this perpetual rocking movement between here and elsewhere, between the moment and time, this desire to devour the moment, with always the obsession to guarantee a place with his god. An oversized ego and the desire to destroy oneself in a collective. A thirst for freedom and the need to lock oneself up in community cages, everywhere, in Paris, Larnaca, Dubai, Madrid, London, Geneva, Montreal. Open communities, easily assimilated, integrated into their environment, but at the same time, closed communities that speak only of Lebanon. A faceless people because they dare not look in the mirror. Night everywhere. The darkening interior, the exterior too. Darkness is contagious, obscurantism is deadly. Mild climate, sad people. Smiles that are becoming rare, looks that are empty, and always the denial, that of living in one's own reality, in a continual flight so as not to die. Live twice as much beyond your means then suddenly switch to survival in search of a little light and bread. Promising three times more than you can deliver and finally accomplishing nothing at all. Knowing four times as much and actually not really knowing anything. Getting five times the interest on his deposits to finally see his money evaporate. Our daily life has changed overnight, a terrible, unbearable regression, of rare violence. It is difficult to realize what is happening to us. Living out of time with the impression of having everything. But in reality having nothing at all. Continue to live as if everything were normal. Impermanence of life. To feel Lebanese despite everything. Nomadic people in search of a country that fades away. Forced to reinvent itself to exist, with Lebanon both so close and so far away. We are not here to disappear. Damn, it's complicated to be Lebanese…!!! Amin Maalouf, is a famous and bright Lebanese writer, he lives in France and mostly writes in French, he has many famous books, I took the liberty of translating his few words to English, words that discribe very well the Lebanese psych, in the past, present and probably for the future, driving most Lebanese to relocate and try to survive....   As always, my many profound thanks to all, stay safe and well.