Montreal's Lebanese community grapples with crisis back home

Andrew Hage might be in Montreal, but his mind and heart are still in Lebanon.

"My mom, my grandfather, my aunt, her kids — the majority of my family is back home, in Beirut," he says.

As war persists in the country, Lebanese Montrealers fear for their loved ones.

"The families are very tightly knitted and we talk a lot - we're very worried," says Lamia Charlebois. "You don't have one Lebanese in the diaspora sleeping properly at night."

For some, what is happening back home brings up some painful memories.

"The events of October have kind of brought back to the surface trauma that I hadn't experienced since the last time [airstrikes hit Lebanon]", says Moustafa Chambli.

Charlebois says the trauma and the damage in her home country are beyond surreal.

"Right now, we have a country that is broken by a huge economic crisis [and] by the explosion in Beirut in 2020 — it cannot sustain another hit," she adds.

Hage came to Montreal to study at Université de Montréal a year before the 2020 explosion in Beirut's port.

Just as he was then, he's now finding himself glued to his phone — waiting to hear from family members while news of the latest airstrikes floods his screen.

"It's really difficult," he says before admitting that even paying attention in class has been challenging. "When talking with my Lebanese friends, we all feel something has shifted."

Struggling to comfort each other, Hage says they at least sit together — a subtle form of support.

Montreal is home to the largest Lebanese community in Canada.

The first step to assist the community, according to Chambli, is through compassion.

"How it's affecting us emotionally is massive and just being reminded of our core humanity is a big one," he says.

All the while, they are dealing with the day-to-day here as they watch and worry about what's happening back home.