Some families who won’t come to visit have given up; their child has messed up to a point where the family rejects him. Others may not be able to afford to visit. The prison is at Roumieh, about 12 miles from Beirut, so if a family wants to visit their child, they need at least $50 to go, come back and bring provisions to their child. ONE: I’ve heard the conditions are poor. AK: Yes, they are awful. ONE: Can you describe them? AK: No. It’s atrocious — the dirt, the terrible conditions. In Roumieh there are 4,600 prisoners and we can’t help them all. We have people who come to us to register the names of people saying they need our help, or need to talk with us. We listen to them and sometimes we visit their families to see why they don’t come to visit and help their children. Up to now, we have managed to convince only three families to come visit their child but we usually don’t succeed. It’s very difficult. ONE: How does your work at the Armenian Catholic Patriarchate help the refugees fleeing the war in Syria? AK: When the Syrians started to come, the patriarch said: “We can’t refuse them; we must welcome them.” So, Syrians seeking help come to me and I do interviews: where they came from, where they live now, how many people are living where they reside, etc. Initially, we assisted Syrian Armenian Catholic families, and then we began to help everyone, regardless of ethnicity or religion. We went to CNEWA for money to buy them heaters, blankets and towels. We then made an agreement with the Armenian Apostolic bishop and with the Karagheusian Center [a CNEWA partner] to start giving children
“When the Syrians started to come, the patriarch said: ‘We can’t refuse them; we must welcome them.’”
pillows, towels, pajamas, underwear and socks. Currently, we are helping some 1,100 families in Bourj Hammoud — about 4,000 people. Everyone helps now, even the people who resent Syrians for the occupation of Lebanon. In 1978, we were stuck for ten days and nights in shelters. It was awful; you can’t imagine ten days of bombs falling on you. But now people say: “It’s not the people’s fault — we must help them.” ONE: How did you become so deeply involved in charity work? Isn’t it all overwhelming? AK: Since my childhood, I liked to help people. I was small and I worked in a dispensary beside our house. I liked that. I was in my 20’s during the civil war here in Lebanon and I helped everyone. I spent the whole war in this neighborhood. I didn’t leave it even for one day. I am no longer a young girl, but I work more than a young girl does! And people say: “Oh, I’m tired.” Me, I can’t say that; I don’t get tired!
that I was going to give birth. I couldn’t breathe. I said I must go to the hospital, or will I have to give birth before 400 people! My brother came to take me there, and I was sure either I’d die or my baby would. I went to the hospital in a car of a Christian militiaman. I arrived with the baby’s head already coming out and I gave birth on the bathroom floor in about five minutes. Then a sister said: “You must leave. The hospital is burning.” I took my baby and she was black from the dirt. There was no water. About 10 or 15 minutes after having given birth, I was running through the streets with the baby to get back to the shelter. I arrived and could see my husband and kids across the street, but couldn’t cross because the bombs were falling so heavily. Finally, I got back to safety. Two hours later, there was a cease-fire. ONE: Did such experiences — or indeed, does your charitable work — change you spiritually?
ONE: I have heard many personal stories here in Lebanon from the war years and I am sure the war made you very busy helping people. But surely there were moments where you had to help yourself?
AK: No. I was a student of the Armenian Sisters of the Immaculate Conception and I have had my faith since I was a child. Every day, when I wake up, before leaving the house, I have a picture of Jesus and I say to him: “I am leaving the house and I leave it to you. It’s up to you to decide if I make mistakes or not and you’ll always be with me.”
AK: Oh, I have a story for you. In 1978, when the Syrians attacked us with the bombs, I was pregnant. I was taking shelter in the basement under our building and I could feel
But prayers help me when life is tough. Without prayers, how do you live? Prayers are our protection. God stays with us when we pray and he doesn’t let us go astray.
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