Lea* left Lebanon for France in order to live her homosexuality freely. (Credit: João Sousa/L'Orient Today)
It was 1 a.m., way past her curfew. Sara* hurried as she rushed out of a friend’s car. Her building was plunged in the dark. The electricity was out.Her taser/flashlight in hand, she climbed the stairs in a hurry. As she entered the house, her parents got out of bed to make sure she was back home safe and sound.“Sometimes they yell at me because of how late I am to return home, but they’re getting used to it,” Sara told L’Orient-Le Jour.As she stepped inside her house that night, she was still filled with a feeling of euphoria from having gone out to a “safe” LGBTQ+ bar.Tomorrow, she would have to wear her mask again, hiding her homosexuality from her parents.The next day, during “sobhiyeh” (the morning coffee Klatch) she would be ready for the salvo of questions and interrogations coming her way.“And whatever they say, I nod. I prefer...
It was 1 a.m., way past her curfew. Sara* hurried as she rushed out of a friend’s car. Her building was plunged in the dark. The electricity was out.Her taser/flashlight in hand, she climbed the stairs in a hurry. As she entered the house, her parents got out of bed to make sure she was back home safe and sound.“Sometimes they yell at me because of how late I am to return home, but they’re getting used to it,” Sara told L’Orient-Le Jour.As she stepped inside her house that night, she was still filled with a feeling of euphoria from having gone out to a “safe” LGBTQ+ bar.Tomorrow, she would have to wear her mask again, hiding her homosexuality from her parents.The next day, during “sobhiyeh” (the morning coffee Klatch) she would be ready for the salvo of questions and interrogations coming her way.“And whatever they...