Illustrative photo: Matthieu Karam/L'Orient-Le Jour
Whenever war descends upon Lebanon, Muntasser Abdallah, our correspondent in the South, sleeps in a separate room from his wife. His phone rings often during the night, as people cut short his sleep with calls that deliver tragic news. The same words repeated: strikes, attacks, planes, drones, ambulances, hospital, dead... “My sleep is fragmented, interrupted by repeated awakenings, as if my biological clock is on permanent alert. I wake up with a start and my hand immediately reaches for the phone,” says this veteran reporter, describing the physical and psychological impact of a correspondent’s job in the field, plunged into uninterrupted coverage of events.Sometimes he does not finish a meal, and often does not even have time to shower. So he has improvised simple solutions: putting his phone in a waterproof plastic bag to always stay...
Whenever war descends upon Lebanon, Muntasser Abdallah, our correspondent in the South, sleeps in a separate room from his wife. His phone rings often during the night, as people cut short his sleep with calls that deliver tragic news. The same words repeated: strikes, attacks, planes, drones, ambulances, hospital, dead... “My sleep is fragmented, interrupted by repeated awakenings, as if my biological clock is on permanent alert. I wake up with a start and my hand immediately reaches for the phone,” says this veteran reporter, describing the physical and psychological impact of a correspondent’s job in the field, plunged into uninterrupted coverage of events.Sometimes he does not finish a meal, and often does not even have time to shower. So he has improvised simple solutions: putting his phone in a waterproof plastic bag to...
