No había comentado nada de la estupidez que está sucediendo en Líbano.  Siempre me gusta leer los blogs de la gente que está viviendo el drama, así es que me puse a chequear uno que me trasladó y me recordó aquella época cuando Panamá fue invadida por los USA y mucha gente tuvo que refugiarse en casas de vecinos, amigos, etc.  No debe haber sido lo mismo, con misiles y fuga en masa, pero la sensación de miedo, pánico a lo desconocido y al ruido de los disparos y bombas deben quedarse en la cabeza por mucho tiempo.  Yo acompañé desde Brasil.  Me hubiera gustado estar allá para vivir esta historia.  Volviendo a Líbano, me gustaría entender el por qué de la guerra.  Algo tan surreal y tan sin sentido!  Odio la guerra y todas sus consecuencias.  Si al menos Kofi Annan y su bando de gente que últimamente no tiene voz en este tipo de conflictos, pudieran solucionar de manera pacífica esta carnificina…Pongo aquí un post de una chica libanesa que dice bien lo que está sucediendo:
Broken Heart

A week ago, I might have told you that my heart broke because my favorite World Cup team lost… I almost cried. Now I would do anything to watch my team lose – and bring down my sense of disappointment to that level again.

What I feel now, as a citizen, and what everyone feels is disappointment, anger, anxiety, frustration. We’re scared and locked up at home. War came in a day. War in one day. All the books I’ve read about war, the daily news on Afghanistan and Iraq, how we were saying ‘how terrible the situation was in Gaza’—and now I’m living it.

From the rooftops of fancy hotels to the four walls of my living room.
From bustling Beirut to a retreat far away in the mountains.
From the thumping music of Paul Van Dyke to the pounding of bombs every night.
From the post-sahra mankoushe at 5 am to post-bomb insomnia at 6 am.
From the flickering of Crystal lights to the flickering of my three candles when the electricity cuts
From wining and dining in fancy restaurants to whining and panicking in front of the tv
From crying at the prospect of leaving my country to go work abroad to crying at the prospect of not having any country to return to
From plotting my goodbye party to plotting how I will be able to reach my target work destination

Everything that worried me in times of peace just seems inconsequential now. Believe me, reading about war is so unbelievably different from living it. Your mindset is stuck on survive and making sure those you care about are safe.

My beautiful country. A country that has been sabotaged by its location. How many times can we be burnt and resurrected? How many times can you be heartbroken, yet love again?

posted by lebanese.lady at 2:10 AM