Memoirs of Aida Selvian 

Aida Selvian is a successful sixty-two year old architect that lives in Glendale, California. However, her life was not always this great. She was born in mid October in a small town in Lebanon called Hammana. Though she spent most of her time in Beirut, the capital, she still loved to visit that charming village, where she had all her friends and many of her favorite memories. Unfortunately, her laid–back life there did not last forever. In 1974, a huge civil war took place forcing her and her family to escape. As a twenty-nine year old mother of two, she was to call California her home. As the years passed she got used to her new lifestyle.  Even though her new life was great, she always remained home-sick, and always missed her home in Hammana. Now, as she sits in her living room reading, she has a feeling of disappointment for herself that she has left herself somewhat forget her good-old small town charm.

 My name is Aida Selvian and I was born in Hammana, Lebanon in 1944. At that time, there were twelve to thirteen thousand inhabitants; most of them lived there for the summer. It was a very resting, charming village. We used to have a summer residence there, that my grandfather and father brought up; with a wonderful garden surrounding the three-story house. Eleven people lived in my house, but we used to have two of our cousins to stay over the whole summer plus, visiting guests that used to stay with us most of the weekends. We used to have very good time.

Mainly, Hammana was a Christian village, most of the villagers were Maroonites, but some others were from the Orthodox Church. We used to have Druze, this type of people were not Muslims, they did not believe in God, they would worship maybe a goat or a big animal, they had their own philosophy. They were respectable people, they used to have their own monument, their own leaders, and there were no conflict between the villagers until the last war that started in 1974.The Christian churches were all around, the Druze did not have a place. Until 1974 there was no mosque in Hammana or no temple. We did not have Jewish community; so mostly Christian community and Maroonite was the majority.

Everyone used to know each other in that small town because everybody used to go to church every Sunday, so greeting each other, visiting each other. It was an entertainment for the teenagers. Everybody used to dress up very nicely, it was kind of a modern village. We had a strange neighbor, his name was John, he was kind of “schizophreniac,” he used to be scared of a little animals, little mosquitoes, everybody knew about everybody else. Nothing was secret. Gossip defiantly took place, some of it was pleasant, like letting each other know about this person is in love with the other or their going to be engaged or married, but some other  gossips were not as pleasant kind of hypocritical gossips which I disliked.

A Cherry Float Festival used to take place every year and we used to look forward to be present, because it used to be springtime, like late May and we were still in Beirut, where we used to attend school. On the weekend when “Cherry Festival” was on, we used to go to Hammana and we were very excited to see who was the beauty of that festival that year, it was something really entertaining, and fine entertainment. There was this family Jammour, one of the sons was married to this very beautiful American girl he brought with him when he graduated medical school in Kansas City. So that year, that gorgeous American girl, who was a brand new bride, was the Queen Beauty of the festival. She did ride in a convertible Cadillac, everybody was looking at her. She was something new.

 Hammana was run mostly by family businesses most of them were small businesses. For example, the square surrounded by stores; the butcher was there, the convenient store, the grocer was there, the shoe repair was there, the second story of those businesses was houses that villagers lived in. We even had a place where the older ones used to go and play poker over there. One of the  businesses that I consider best, was the ice-cream business. This family called Koukeb, they used to make their own ice cream with fresh fruit and the fresh milk and cream. Hand made, not imported from other villages or towns. And we used to stay in line to buy some of those good and healthy ice-creams.  In Hammana we did not have “McDonalds” or any other fast food, but we had couple of chic restaurants and one of them was by the cascades, Shaghour was the name of the cascades so was the name of the restaurant too. My father used to take us over there for a dinner with entertainment. The food we ate was Middle Eastern. We called it “meza” which is group of dips, like hummus, babaganoush, and raw meat, you know like the sushi that we eat now. Plus there were always fresh fruit. And that restaurant, Shaghour restaurant was in a very beautiful, nostalgic and charming place surrounded with dark green tress. You would hear the sound of the water running from the cascades through little places made specifically around the restaurant.  On the way to Damascus they had a restaurant made in the garden. People over there were paid very little money so there were so many doing service and at few Lebanese dollars, it was kind of an enjoyment.

Most of the families were on the same economic level.  Maybe fourteen or fifteen families were better well off. One of those families called Zourzouee had a shipping business, so they were very, very rich. There was another family who had a pharmaceutical company, they were well off. Some of their kids used to go around with horses as sports. We used to kind of admire them. Some of the families used to have transportation, people transportations, like taxis business from Hammana to Beirut, the capital, or from Hammana to some other villages.

As teenagers we used to hide and look around for adventure. Sometimes we used to know that such girl is in love with such boy so when this girl goes out of her house we used to follow secretly so we could see where is she going and what is she going to do. There was nothing explicit, just she would see, she would meet, her friend, maybe they would hold hands, but that was something really great for us cause usually you don’t see that in Hammana. It’s not like in America they would kiss each other on the streets or before getting married. We didn’t have much freedom, but I remember very well that I used to read lots of books, and in the evening like around five o’clock, I had a friend called Marie we used to go walking together, that was something that used happen most everyday and that was the most entertainment that we could have. Sometimes we used to go to the movie theater see maybe “Tarzan” but nothing else. We used to have basketball matches we used to go and watch them cheer with the crowd and that’s all.

When the war took place in 1974, Beirut was intolerable so my family did hide in the property that we had in Hammana for lat least six to nine months, until that day that the Druze people went out and killed twelve Christian boys that used to work in this Sahha source, water source like “Sparklets.” We kind of got scared, my brother was a foreman in the Sahha company and when he knew about those twelve boys killed by the Druze he was very sick and bothered so they left Hammana and they went back to Beirut. I heard that at the beginning of the village, there was a family that had a beautiful villa, some of those Senegal boys that came to help the Syrians, killed and raped members of that family, so everybody was scared, it wasn’t as safe as before. It was kind of dangerous to have strangers in the village killing, raping, it was not normal and it was really sad. War was the main reason why I moved, other wise we had properties, I had a job, I was a teacher, and it was nice, it was my country, but when you have to leave, you will leave.

There is no comparison between American life and Lebanese. First of all in America we have freedom to do whatever we want, and according to my personality I have the freedom to go to the music center see and opera, or a ballet, or listen to classical music, go around to museums. In Lebanon it was not possible. We used to have only once a festival in Baalbeck, it was an old ruin where they used to do a summer festivals dancing, singing, operas, but that used to be only in the summer times maybe in the month of August no more than that it was not something year round. I wouldn’t like to live there by myself in a war torn country but I have nostalgic of those villages. I have not been there for thirty five years, I did not go back. I would love to visit; maybe I would stay couple of months, three months, but not more than that. I forgot that how to live over there. Their conditions are different now.

Interviewed by Christine Harmandayan