As usual background music is playing (randomly) while sipping on an ice cold glass of Vodka when Gilbert Becaud’s singing “Je reviens te chercher” struck a chord.
All serious work stopped and reminiscing began.
The first memory recalled was that of “café Al 3er3ar” (Shalimar), the swing, the jukebox playing Becaud, Aznavour, Greco, Anka, Humperdink, Sinatra…etc; and my grand mother swinging my sister and me for hours.
The scandal when “Emmanuelle” first aired on local TV, or when Gainsbourg released his song “Je t’aime moi non plus”.
The trips early Sunday morning (during the summer) to Deir Mar Cha3ya, to buy fresh organic vegetables.
The “autos tamponneuses” at the Cocodi and their “scalestric” car racing circuit.
The evening turned into a contest of whom can remember the most.
Amongst the places mentioned were the old Spinneys by the airport road, the turf club, Saint Simon, Accapulco, Gooddies, Salem ice cream in Tripoli, Chocomax, 555 biscuit boxes, Bompani ovens, Clip hand cream, Tatleh and Biafra cigarettes, Velamos and chopper bicycles…etc.
Not a word about politics was uttered, not a single mention with regards to the civil war and our lost childhood was recalled. All three of us present spent hours listening to old songs and remembering places, happy experiences lived, old TV advertisements, shows and programs.
Now that my friends have gone home in order to surrender into Morpheus’s arms, I am left with a huge grin on my face and an uplifting sense of well being. For a few hours I had relived my youth (in Zoukak Al Blat) when my friends answered to names such as: Denis, Nabhan, Rawia, Khamis, Marc, Hiba, Michelle, Ahmad, Steve…etc; days when I could roam the streets of MY country with no fear of not making it back home alive.
This feeling (unfortunately) quickly collapsed when reality quickly sat in; and for that I can only thank my fellow Lebanese (graced by God with a selective memory) and our SOLD OUT political class.
THANK YOU !
