When Hussein was asked to pick a character for the theater play he was performing in, it only took him a few seconds to make up his mind: he wanted to be a lamp. But not a regular lamp, he wanted to be a lightless lamp. His choice surprised his peers, why does someone want to be a passive object on stage? "That is not even a character," said one of the young actors... "Are you sure you just want to be a prop?"
Hussein was sure... The only memory he had of Syria, his homeland, was that he had to turn off the lights each time shelling started. Hussein was able to escape from war-torn Syria with his family and settled in Lebanon... Luckily, there was no bombing there but the frequent electricity cuts reminded him of the wartime blackout...
Hussein's story brings back the awful memories of the civil war in Lebanon. I was five when the war ended but the memories of it still linger. Just like Hussein, I remember sitting in complete darkness with windows and doors covered with sand bags in my building's underground-turned shelter. And when the bombing intensified, all the residents of the shelter used to rush to that little bathroom that can barely fit one person. We used to pile up over the toilet seat. I was always on top because I was the youngest but even when they tried to reassure me that we were going to be fine, I would still tremble with fear.
I also remember the day when my parents decided it was no longer safe to live in our neighborhood and that we should move further North.... to Syria. That day, I cried so much not only because I didn't want to leave my grandmother and my toys behind but because that meant that I'll have to go to a new school and meet new kids who - as far as I was told - were "different".
Hussein and the 1.2 million refugees who fled to Lebanon aren't any different. They also lived in shelters, fled their country and moved in search of a safer place... They too left their loved ones, their toys and their memories behind... They aren't refugees by choice...
I love telling Hussein's story but the way people react to it is often disturbing: "They [the Syrians] have invaded the country: they took our jobs, they strained our resources, they brought terrorism, they stole our men", said a Lebanese woman I have recently met. I told her that Lebanese are too proud to take on low-wage jobs, that public services and infrastructure suffered from serious deficiencies before the crisis, that the security situation has been volatile long before the war in Syria started and that if "our men" are marrying Syrian women then maybe Lebanese women like her should reconsider their haughty characters. Needless to say that this was the end of our conversation...
Some would argue that the long and bumpy history between the two countries is the reason why we discriminate against the Syrian refugees... I think this argument is no longer valid given the fact that even Lebanese political leaders who once fought a bloody war against each other have now reconciled... I wonder how people are able to forgive warlords who were responsible for the death of many of their loved ones but still can't forgive people whose only guilt was that they fled their country because they were afraid of death?
I know the topic is extremely sensitive and that resentments and grudges often devoid us of our humanity but regardless of the historical tensions and our natural tendency to stereotype, 28 years ago, if my parents had found a spot in that school in Syria, I would have become a refugee... Just like Hussein...
