July 16, 2006
It's Sunday, and even if it weren't for the siege, Beirut would be in a lull, but it would not be this bad. Almost all the stores are closed and the streets are pretty much empty. I went to a supermarket to stock up on some essentials, in case I get stuck on campus and can't access food from the outside. The only places that are really busy these days are the supermarkets; everyone wants to stock up in case things turn even worse. I'm terrible at shopping for war. I keep glancing at the wine bottles, then realizing that that's hardly emergency products! Well, it could be I suppose, but I'd rather keep my head clear with the situation as it is.
The Prime Minister was on TV, pledging to employ the Lebanese army to the south, practically begging the Israelis to stop the destruction of Lebanon. They won't relent, however. I'm scared for what might happen if Hizballah turns on the army, the government is so weak and the army could very well disintegrate along sectarian lines. If I leave Lebanon, when will I be able to return? Will civil war return over Hizballah's arms? How can I leave when the one person I love more than anything is still here in the middle of everything? She's a feisty one, and I know she can take care of herself, but I'd hate to leave her nonetheless! It breaks my heart that it has come to this. B'hebbak, ya Loubnan!
Beirut has always been a place of contrast for me. Life and death, side by side in perfect harmony as it seems. This is true now more than ever; the sounds of people playing tennis is accompanied by fighter jets dropping bombs in another part of the city. I can understand why my friends and family have difficulty understanding my reluctance to leave, but quite frankly I think it's be more risky for me to try and make it to Syria on my own, and as for the organized evacuation of Swedish citizens, I think there are others that have been more directly affected by the bombings and therefore should be evacuated before me. Personally, I think I'm being quite rational.