معبر | Maabar Maabar

In our final episode, we close the series with the Lebanese journalists who tell of their struggles to balance between their job of documenting, in words or in photographs, their own country’s destruction, and of their vulnerabilities, living with the aftershock of war, carrying the weight of their trauma through the years, over generations. 
 
بالحلقة الأخيرة، منختم السلسة مع صحفيين لبنانيين بخبروا عن نضالن ليحققوا توازن بين شغلن بتوثيق الأحداث إما بكلمات أو صور، ودمار بلدن، وأوجه ضعفن، وعيش تداعيات الحرب، والتعامل مع صدمتن لسنوات وعبر الأجيال. 
 
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This penultimate episode of our 9-part special focuses on the reflection of the francophone journalists and their role during the war, the savagery of what the civil war entailed, its futility, lives lost in vain, and the living horror of those who fought and are left to confront the harsh reality of “normal” life afterward. 
 
الحلقة ما قبل الأخيرة من السلسلة المؤلفة من تسع أجزاء بتركّز على تأملات الصحفيين المتحدثين بالفرنسية ودورن خلال الحرب، والوحشية يلّي ولّدتها الحرب الأهلية، وعبثيتا والأرواح يلّي فُقدت بدون جدوى، والرعب يلّي عاشوا يلّي حاربوا وانتركوا ليواجهوا الواقع المرّ الحياة "الطبيعية" بعد الحرب.
 
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In this episode, journalists burst the “rock and roll” image of war to expose its harsh and brutal reality where people act like vicious monsters. Packed with gripping tales and profound reflections on what this “war” meant in the grand scheme of things, the anglophones close in on their experience of the war. بهيدي الحلقة، بيكسر الصحفيين صورة الحرب يلّي كلا "عنتريات"، ليكشفوا واقعها القاسي والعنيف، واقع بصيروا الناس فيه وحوش كاسرة. من خلال قصص مشوّقة وتأملات عميقة بمعنى "الحرب" ضمن السياق الأوسع، بخبرونا المتحدثين باللغة الإنكليزية عن تجربتن مع الحرب. ------------------------------------------------------------------- 
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French audio. For subtitles in Arabic and in English please listen to the episode on YouTube.In this episode, we hear first hand what it was like to be held hostage in another country, another war; from being first lured by the exotic, exciting prospect of covering war in Lebanon, in Beirut (the Paris of the ME), French journalists find their position changed overnight, from suave and sophisticated foreign correspondents to vulnerable preys and naive pawns, at the mercy of their captors.هيدي الحلقة، رح نسمح مباشرة شو يعني إنو الشخص يصير رهينة ببلد مختلف بالبداية، استُدرجوا الصحفيين الفرنسيين بفرصة حماسية وغريبة لتغطية الحرب بلبنان، وببيروت (أو باريس الشرق الأوسط)، بس تغيّر وضعن بين ليلة وضحاها، فتحولوا من مراسلين أجانب واثقين بنفسن ومتمرسين بعملن لبيادق ضعيفي وساذجة بلعبة الحرب ووقعوا تحت رحمة يلي أسروون

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In this chapter, we learn how a city severed and a country truncated becomes a maze that journalists must learn to navigate, to cross lines from one sector to the next, from East to West and West to East, to do their job and get their story out, all the while risking their life.

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A country severed into pieces, a city cut into halves at Khat al-Tamas, the green line. This Rubik’s cube of a country can never be solved, a futile, yet deadly struggle to place people into community, sectarian, and ideological boxes. You are part of it, whether you like it or not, because who they say you are, where you come from.

To others off limits, but to you, a matter of fact, you must cross the line to bear witness to what’s happening and how people live on the "other" side(s). You know the checkpoints networks like the back of your hand. Know which line you can cross when, know the handlers and their moods, map your route depending on who is at which post when. Today, it’s Khaldeh to Kfarshima, tomorrow, it’s Babir to Mathaf, lines shift all the time, depending on what happened that morning, what orders come in, who’s in the car with you, what allegiances switch, what seemed secure a minute ago, is now off the table.

To survive, you can't get caught on the wrong side - whatever side that may be. You build networks, communities of fellow journalists, find fraternities and sororities so that no matter what your religion, your accent, your birthplace, or your press card, crossings can be crossed. You build a support system, meet regularly, break the idea of "the other," become more than colleagues, friends who help get each other out of the cross fire and from crossing the line between life and death.

In this episode, we hear about how addictive war becomes for the journalists covering it as they describe the smell of fear and the thrill of existing on the fine line between life and death. For some, the only way to survive was to lose their mind and their senses while simultaneously being completely sane, 100% alert.

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You run on adrenaline, get high on risk, forget life. The war becomes your dealer, the story, the photograph your next fix.
And yet you cannot get high or drunk, you must be lucid, 100%, your senses on high alert. Your life depends on it. You are in tune with the rhythm of military fire, know the sound of an incoming or outgoing shell, know the time from launch to impact, know the number of shells that can be fired in a round to make an escape to your car in the time it takes to reload.
You’re both scared to death and exhilarated by fear; you drive fear, fear drives you. One minute you find yourself walking through minefields, the next, in the crosshairs of a sniper’s line of sight - from below and above, you’re exposed on all sides.
You’ve had too many close calls with death, too many brushes, felt the rush, rise to the thrill, and then it sinks in deep.
You ask, how did I survive, why him and not me?

بتعيش عل أدرينالين، بتعبي راسك من الخطر، بتنسى الحياة. بتصير الحرب متل يلّي ببيبعك مخدرات، الخبر، الصورة، بصيروا جرعتك التالية. بس ما فيك تتخدّر أو تسكر، لاء لازم تكون واعي 100%، حواسك لازم يكونوا مركزين لأنو حياتك معتمدة عالموضوع. بتصير حافظ إيقاع الرصاص العسكري، بتعرف صوت القذايف إذا طالعة أم نازلة، بتعرف قدي الوقت من إطلاق القذيفة لحين وصولها، بتعرف كم قذيفة رح يضربوا ورا بعض لتقدر تهرب عالسيارة وقت يكونوا عم بعبّوا المدفع. إنت خايف للموت وبنفس الوقت الخوف محمّسك؛ بتمشّي الخوف والخوف بمشيك. بدقيقة، بتلاقي حالك عم تمشي بحقل ألغام، بدقيقة تانية بتصير بمدى نظر القناص، يعني مكشوف من كل الميلات، من فوق ومن تحت. بتعيش كتير حالات كنت رح تموت فيا، بكتير حالات بتقرّب من الموت، بتحسّ بالحماس، وبعدين بتصير تفكر وتسأل، كيف أنا نجيت، ليش هو ومش أنا؟