Syria Diary: Return to Aleppo "The Opposite of Silence" (Hanano)

This summer, I was able to completely shed previous beliefs that had been slowly unraveling for years. Growing up in Syria, you learn to keep your eyes down when you walk in the street to avoid the catcalls, lewd remarks, and hissing that every girl is subjected to by men and boys. Keep your eyes down, your ears shut, and ignore. But after becoming old enough that I could care less (or perhaps should care more) about these harmless yet annoying practices, I began not only looking up but straight into the eyes of these men on the street. I saw them for the first time, there was pure pain in their idle desperation; they were doomed in the graveyard of dreams. Now, I watched them everyday on my laptop screen. Their painful beauty is unparalleled; they are driven by their conscience, driven by their belief in death before humiliation.

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