Ce blog est en vacances pendant quelques jours – de retour en août, peut-être.
Liban
Charbel Haber au studio Tunefork, Beyrouth


Le zine de Ziad

Je songe à Beyrouth
J’y pense souvent (et puis j’oublie)
Trouvé ce souvenir de Robert Fisk, qui aurait pu être le mien. Ce qu’il raconte se déroule un jour dont je me souviens aussi bien – ou aussi mal, que lui.
"Did I see a woman burning to death outside the Myrtom House restaurant? I know I did, back in 1983; a woman trapped in her vehicle after a car bombing, cremated alive in front of our eyes as a young French soldier tried to tear off the door, leaving just a skeleton, the skull turned accusingly towards us. But I stand on the same road today and cannot believe my memory. There are brand new glass-fronted tower blocks on one side of the road, a repainted school and an international bank on the other, the highway resurfaced so that no trace of shrapnel remains. Only my memory holds the truth. Thus is history erased as Beirut is rebuilt."





































