Recovery

2020 in Lebanon wasn’t an easy year already: a glorified revolution that aimed to remove 30 years of corruption in less than 30 days, a pandemic that reminded people of their mortality, an unprecedented economic crises that drastically shifted people’s lifestyles, and, la 'pièce de résistance', an explosion (beyond terrorism) that destroyed a country, its capital, and its citizens. We were alive, but now we’re stuck in a vicious time loop.

My face was complete, my skin was scarless, and my bones were intact. The least of what this explosion did was break some windows, crumble some buildings and flip homes upside down. These ‘lots’ can be repaired, reorganized, and replaced. What happened on the 4th of August 2020 morphed us into bitter beings while eternally mutilating us, both externally and internally. Despite losing everything, we still rebuild: not to replace what was lost, but to try to pretend that what’s coming is better.

This film tells my personal experience: I have been observing, analyzing and trying to understand what happened on the 4th of August. I was born and raised in a parallel street of where I was blown up. I had moved away, only to find myself moved “back into the neighborhood” at the wrong place and the wrong time. During the lockdowns following the blast, I took the chance to walk in the city, trying to remember what it looked like. However, all I could see in my walks were scaffolds, people waiting melancholically for the non-governmental volunteers to give them (the cost of) their daily bread, blood, glass, trash, leftover window frames, and lost memories.

With this documentary, I wanted to show a glimpse of the reality I see on my walks with my dog, while telling the story of an area that is trying to rebuild itself.