Xmas joy missing in rubble of Syria town

ARBIN: WithChristmas approaching, Nabil al-Aash dusts off religious books as he attemptsto tidy up the war-scarred Saint George Church in the town of Arbin, northeastof the Syrian capital Damascus. Retaken in the spring by forces loyal toPresident Bashar al-Assad during a brutal offensive to capture the rebelstronghold of Eastern Ghouta, Arbin is anything but festive.

Rubble from razedbuildings spills out into deserted streets lined with burned-out cars andtwisted scraps of metal. The town looks more apocalyptic than merry. Arbin'sonly church, Saint George's flame-scorched walls and empty nave are a testamentto the seven-year conflict that has left more than 360,000 people dead anddisplaced millions. "There's no celebration here. Christian homes aredestroyed and their church is destroyed," says Aash. The restoration ofthe Greek Orthodox church, built in 1873, "will take a lot of time, moneyand effort", he adds.

"There's nota single icon left-all of them were either burned or stolen," said the55-year-old, approaching the altar. "We also found broken crosses."Aash fled Arbin in 2012 as fighting engulfed the town, plagued afterwards foryears by violence and a crippling siege imposed by Damascus.  But after regime forces retook the area, hedecided to return home. "I grew up in this church, I spent all of myChristmases here... it was once overflowing with joy," he remembers."I almost collapsed when I saw it." For him, the festive spirit"won't return until the residents and parishioners do".

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After ablistering offensive backed by Russian air power, government forces in Aprilretook Eastern Ghouta, a key rebel foothold at the gates of Damascus. Themilitary push and years of shelling flattened large swathes of the area andforced most of its pre-war population to flee. Before the war, Arbin was hometo some 3,000 Christian residents, according to Mayor Khalil Tohme.  But despite the return of relative calm tothe capital and its surroundings, Arbin residents are still hesitant to comeback. "We are only five Christians who regularly visit the town, theothers go from time to time... most of their homes are destroyed," saysAash.  A few dozen meters away from thechurch, Joseph Hakimeh directs a worker on a ladder as he puts the finaltouches to a freshly painted wall of a restored home.

The contractor isgetting ready to hand the keys back to the owner, and is working on three otherhomes in addition to his own. "We're preparing to return as soon asservices and infrastructure are ready, but that needs time," he says.Sitting on a can of paint, the 39-year-old yearns for the way things once were."I hope that next year everything will return to the way it wasbefore-Christmas trees, decorations, carols and prayers," he says.  The mood is gloomy is Arbin, but just a fewkilometers away, bright colored lights illuminate the streets of Damascus. Agiant tree decorates Abbasiyyin Square, long avoided due to its proximity tothe frontline with the former rebel stronghold.

'Roots'

Festive lightsand garlands also decorate homes in the predominantly Christian neighborhood ofKassaa in eastern Damascus. But not everyone is in the Christmas spirit. SinceRiad Rajiha's family arrived to the area after fleeing Arbin in 2012, they havenot had the heart to celebrate. "We left our Christmas tree behind, so wemissed out on decorating," says Rajiha, his eyes brimming with tears.  "What's the meaning of decorating a treein a house that's not yours?" Leafing through an old photo album, herevisits pictures of the Saint George Church in all its former glory. Largechandeliers hang from its high ceilings, its wooden pews packed withparishioners.  "Our roots are thereand our memories are there," says the 66-year-old, who dreams ofcelebrating the holiday in Arbin with his grandchildren. "I was born inArbin, I lived in Arbin, and I hope to be die and be buried there."- AFP