An illustration of this week's love story. (Credit: Mohamad Kraytem)
In this series, "Stories of Love," men and women with direct or indirect ties to Lebanon entrust our journalist Julia Mokdad with the great love stories that have shaped their lives. Through their accounts, transcribed here, we travel across different journeys, eras, cultures and worlds — stories that, in some way, are also about all of us. Today, we relay Samia's story, in her own words.The summer of 1992 is over. After spending several weeks on vacation in Haddatha, my father’s village in southern Lebanon, I return to Beirut refreshed. I'm ready for a new school year, the first of my higher education. I've always loved children, so I have no doubt about my path: I will become a childcare assistant. Or a "gardener," as they called it if you lived in Lebanon before the 2000s.In class, a tall brunette sits...
In this series, "Stories of Love," men and women with direct or indirect ties to Lebanon entrust our journalist Julia Mokdad with the great love stories that have shaped their lives. Through their accounts, transcribed here, we travel across different journeys, eras, cultures and worlds — stories that, in some way, are also about all of us. Today, we relay Samia's story, in her own words.The summer of 1992 is over. After spending several weeks on vacation in Haddatha, my father’s village in southern Lebanon, I return to Beirut refreshed. I'm ready for a new school year, the first of my higher education. I've always loved children, so I have no doubt about my path: I will become a childcare assistant. Or a "gardener," as they called it if you lived in Lebanon before the 2000s.In class, a tall brunette...
