10 kilometers of land

At the Lebanese-Syrian border point, in the Al-Masna region, about ten kilometers separate between the Lebanese security forces and the Syrian security… My friend asked me: one day, if we die in this part of the road, will we be buried in Syria or Lebanon? For thirty-eight years, I have believed that I belong to this Syrian land, so wherever I am buried, I will be in Syria. Mashallah Dandash, who inherited me her love genetically. I have crossed this road, back and forth, hundreds of times, and every time, I felt how much it resembles me; like him, I belong to both countries, to two cities that do not resemble each other, but I resemble them… I stand in the middle, pulled by nostalgia for studying in the Bekaa and university in Beirut and the early years of blooming. On the other side, there is a gravitational force, exercised by Damascus on its visitors, even strangers, numbing them, performing its magical rituals on them, causing them to wander in its ancient streets searching for themselves. I made an eternal promise with these cities that does not fade with time; I pledged not to leave them alone, and they promised me to return as they were and to hide their anger, pain, and reproach for everyone who loved them. In Syria, I buried my friend and gave birth to my child, so this land will not leave me; here, death and life have a different taste. In Damascus, you realize that “here” is only said for Damascus, but wherever you are on this land, every other place is there.