While Lebanon bleeds...

I’m in the car alone. The air conditioning adjusts the temperature to a cool 23 degrees and at the same time pushes a steady flow of winter breeze freshness through the air. The road is long and windy with a slow speed limit of 50km/hour that allows me to feel like I’m taking a stroll in the park. The sounds of a Buddha Bar CD make for a buffer between the real world and the one in my mind. I stop at a red light and A mother crosses the street in front of me with a child whose golden messy locks reflect the sun in a perfect glow. Her little jean shorts, white shirt and hands are covered in dripping chocolate ice cream, she’s desperately trying not to let the pavement get the best of her ice-cream while walking at her mummy’s pace. The light turns green and as my car picks up speed the volume automatically adjusts to compensate for the hum of the engine. A muted trumpet plays a short motif and the end of it triggers a thought about how good I’ve got it. How lucky I am to live in a country where my biggest dilemma is whether to have fruit loops or cheerios for breakfast. How lucky am I to live in a country where the individual’s autonomy is respected and cherished. My mind wanders to images of a father hugging his son crouched behind a rock waiving a white flag at machine guns just out of view. Images of a bus on a road made bumpy by bodies somewhere in Rwanda. Images of men blindfolded, handcuffed and lined along a wall whispering prayers with their eyes closed tight anticipating the gunshot. Images of mothers weeping uncontrollably as their children’s bodies lay still on a metal table.
Images of homes being bulldozed as on lookers silently shed tears of disbelief.
Images of broadcasts at the Munich Olympics.
Images of flags burning.
Images of children who have fallen victim to land mines.
Images of an orange haired Milla Jovovich in the Fifth Element sobbing as she watched in horror humanity’s inexplicable ability for cruelty.
The images soon gave way to sounds
The sound of sirens, emergency broadcasts, shattering glass and thuds and thuds of destruction.
The sound of fallen leaders and modern day presidents making false promises.
The sounds of taskforces dispatched to fight a monster that’s in all of us.
The monster that enables us to set aside rules, morals and conscience.
The ability to turn a blind eye because it doesn’t affect us personally or because it’s simply too painful to digest.
I am just like the rest….
Though I do not partake in the brutality, I silently watch in disbelief horror and powerlessness.