For Syria refugees, Lebanese relatives give sanctuary

Exhausted, terrified and penniless, Syrians fleeing a deadly government crackdown have been finding sanctuary in north Lebanon, taking advantage of family ties that straddle the normally porous border. "Many families have close relatives on the other side of the border as marriage between Lebanese and Syrians here is common, and that has been a relief for many of the refugees," said Akram Bitar, a school superintendent in the scenic border region of Wadi Khaled. "More than 300 Lebanese women here are married to Syrians from Tall Kalakh," Bitar told AFP. At least 5,000 refugees have crossed into Lebanon from Syrian border villages, including Tall Kalakh, in recent weeks, as the security forces of strongman Bashar al-Assad have pressed a deadly crackdown against two months of protests against 50 years of Baath party rule. Several Syrians interviewed in Wadi Khaled by AFP said troops had surrounded their villages, and power and water supplies been cut off. "On Saturday, around 100 of us were squeezed into a container when we were ambushed," said Hala, a young Syrian who declined to give her family name for fear of reprisals. The 19-year-old fled with her mother, sister and five brothers to Lebanon, where they have settled with a cousin. But other family members have stayed behind. "I can still hear the bullets whizzing by the container," Hala recounted with horror, seated on a mattress on the floor in her cousin's two-room house in a village near the border. "We were terrified," she added. "Thankfully we have family here." Her cousin's husband Akram has converted the couple's humble home into a shelter for fleeing Syrians. "I don't sleep at home any more," said Akram. "I have not worked for days now." But the driver says he has faith that he will somehow be able to care for his wife and three children. "God will provide," he said. Akram's village of Al-Buqayaa has long been a transit point for the smuggling of all kinds of goods, from drugs to cigarettes, and authorities on both sides of the border have generally turned a blind eye. On Monday morning, braving intermittent gunfire that could be heard coming from the Syrian side of the border, a group of young men could be seen dragging butane gas containers across the river at the frontier. But increasingly it is refugees who are using the illegal border crossing rather than smugglers. Several Syrians from Tall Kalakh recounted how they made their way through orchards in the darkness to escape the watchful eyes of soldiers on the lookout for would-be refugees. And while they are thankful to have found refuge in north Lebanon, they have a growing sense of foreboding about their future. "Thank God, people here have opened their doors to us Syrians," said Hanin, surrounded by a swarm of children in a two-storey house where she is staying with distant relatives. "But what will we do now? If we return, we will die. They are destroying our homes," she said. "Before coming here, our children had not been to school for a month." Umm Alaa, 75, had been quietly tending her garden in Tall Kalakh when the increasingly deadly violence prompted her to leave and take refuge with her daughter-in-law and five grandchildren. "Why are they doing this?" she asked tearfully. "It is Syrians against Syrians. Even Israel would not do this."