In blast-hit Beirut, Armenian elders are determined to stay

Areas home to Beirut's century-old Armenian community were among those worst-hit by the August 4 blast

Lebanese-Armenian Dikran Geuzubeuyukian at his house in Beirut's Mar Mikhael district after its renovation by the Armenian General Benevolent Union. AFP

Beirut resident Vany Bandikian once dreamt of travelling outside Lebanon, but after a huge explosion wrecked her neighbourhood, all she wants is to stay in the home her father built.

"Never will I leave this home," said the Lebanese-Armenianas she sat in her windowless living room.

"The walls speak to me," she said, the endless din of reconstruction work ringing from outside.

The August 4 blast at Beirut's port killed at least 190 people, injured thousands and ravaged homes across the capital.

Some of the worst-hit areas are home to the city's century-old Armenian community.

More than a month after the explosion, construction workers trudge up and down the stairs of Ms Bandikian's 1930s villa.

Its tall white columns and cast-iron balconies are still standing, but the glass in its windows was blown out by the explosion and the spaces are now covered with sheets of white plastic.

Doors cracked in half lie on the tiled floor and window frames have been dislodged from the walls.

"A lot of people rang me and said: 'Come and live with us'. But I can't. How am I supposed to leave an open house?" said the former French-language teacher, who lives with her sister.

Relatives in the US urged her to emigrate, but she said she was not interested.

"I really feel rooted in Lebanon," said Ms Bandikian.

Lebanese Armenian Vany Bandikian shows a family picture in her house. Some of the areas worst-hit by the blast are home to the city's century-old 140,000-strong Armenian community. AFP

About 140,000 Armenians live in Lebanon, mostly descendants of those who escaped the mass killings of their people under the Ottoman Empire from 1915 to 1917.

They are the largest such community in the Middle East and have their own schools and university, as well as seats in the Lebanese Cabinet and parliament.

In Beirut, many live in the Bourj Hammoud neighbourhood, but also in the heavily damaged districts of Geitawi and Mar Mikhael close to the port.

Shop signs in the area are often in Armenian, residents use their own dialect and the elderly often speak halting Arabic.

Though some members of the Armenian community – like many young Lebanese – have emigrated in recent years because of the economic crisis, the older generation is bent on staying.

Berjouhi Kasparian, 90, said that even though she had three children living abroad, she would not leave the Geitawi apartment where she has lived on and off since she was 10.

Lebanese Armenian Berjouhi Kasparian gestures during an interview at her Geitawi neighbourhood house, on September 16, 2020, which was renovated by Armenian NGO “AGBU” (Armenian General Benevolent Union) due to damages caused by a huge chemical explosion that destroyed parts of the capital Beirut. AFP

"It will pass. Every country has problems," she said.

A scar to the side of her mouth is the only visible sign of the nightmare she experienced on the day of the explosion, four days before her birthday.

She was standing in her kitchen when a cascade of plates and glasses fell on top of her.

With Beirut's hospitals overwhelmed, she had to wait a whole day for someone to dress her wounds.

Ms Bandikian and Ms Kasparian received help to repair their homes from the Lebanese branch of the Armenian General Benevolent Union, a century-old non-profit organisation.

The charity fixed 100 homes and started work on 80 others in blast-affected areas, its Lebanon director, Arine Ghazarian, said.

It hopes to restore 600 homes, not all of them belonging to Armenians.

In areas around the port, the explosion dealt a further blow to households already reeling from Lebanon's worst economic crisis since the 1975-1990 civil war.

Three times a week, the union distributes 1,500 meals in Bourj Hammoud and Mar Mikhel, Ms Ghazarian said.

At a home for the elderly in Bourj Hammoud, its manager Sebouh Terzian said he was grateful a donor pledged $22,000 (Dh80,800) to fix the damaged building.

"Hopefully they will come next week and do all the repairs," he said.

The institution also relies on non-governmental organisations to feed its 119 residents.

But for others in the community, the pain of the blast is still raw.

In Mar Mikhael, Dikran Geuzubeuyukian, 58, and his teenage children have received food aid and help to renovate their damaged flat.

But the craftsman said he had mixed feelings about moving back in after the repairs are finished.

From the kitchen, he can see what remains of the port's grain silos, while in the corridor, there is the place where he found his wife Liza, who died in the explosion.

Mr Geuzubeuyukian said they had no choice but to move back in.

"Where else can we go? It's a bit tough for the kids, but I don't know what else to do," " he said.