Before It Disappears
This project began as an exploration of memory, but over time it became something more, an attempt to understand what happens when a place begins to disappear.
The work takes place in my village, Joun, where I returned after years of living in Beirut. Growing up, the village was alive, its rhythm defined by its people, its stories, its independence. Everything came from the village and returned to it. It was its own small world. But over the years, that world has faded.
The wars, the economic crises, the constant instability in Lebanon have pushed people away, first to the city, then beyond the country’s borders. Migration emptied the streets and left houses abandoned. Yet nature has remained, the quiet witness to everything that changes.
For my generation, the change feels even more profound. We lived through the transformation, caught between what used to be and what is now. The teenagers, once the pulse of village life, are gone. They dream of cities, of futures that promise more stability. What remains are the old and the very young, the ones who never left, and the ones who don’t yet know they will.
Kids running and playing in one of Joun’s old neighborhoods. The town of Joun, Lebanon, 2025.
A grandfather and his grandson rest their hands on a steel railing at dusk, talking to each other in one of Joun’s neighborhoods, with the village’s mountains stretching out in front of them. The town of Joun, Lebanon, 2025.
A grandfather holds his grandson near their home in one of the oldest village alleys.
An old man is watching two kids run through a narrow street in the village of Joun, as a white cat passes by. The town of Joun, Lebanon, 2023.
Salam, one of the oldest residents of the village, walks past the entrance of his house with cracked concrete and peeling walls, holding a grapefruit. The town of Joun, Lebanon, 2023.
An old man, Youssef — 91, one of the oldest people in Joun — stands in his rusty kitchen, waiting for the Arabic coffee pot to boil. The town of Joun, Lebanon, 2025.
A portrait of Youssef — 91, among the oldest residents of Joun. The town of Joun, Lebanon, 2025.
A man harvesting mulberries, almost entirely concealed by the thick branches. The town of Joun, Lebanon, 2025.
An old man, Salam — 82 and one of the oldest people in Joun — contemplates the green landscape. The town of Joun, Lebanon, 2025.
An elderly man walks along a stone wall as the photographer’s shadow falls beside him in Joun. The town of Joun, Lebanon, 2025.
Salam, one of the oldest residents of the village, pauses during a walk as the neighbor’s dog sits nearby. The town of Joun, Lebanon, 2025.
A stray cat sits inside an abandoned house in Joun, near a staircase that leads to an orange tree with fallen fruit scattered on the ground. The town of Joun, Lebanon, 2025.
A locked wooden door in one of Joun’s old neighborhoods, its surface worn and covered with scribbles, and its rusted chains marking years of abandonment. The town of Joun, Lebanon, 2025.
A boy points a toy gun while standing on a cracked street in Joun. The town of Joun, Lebanon, 2024.
A cat sits on the edge of a wall at the entrance of an abandoned house in Joun. The town of Joun, Lebanon, 2025.
Salam — 82, one of the oldest people in Joun — walks down a village road at sunset, passing a tall pine tree and an old abandoned stone house. The town of Joun, Lebanon, 2025.
An old abandoned house in Joun, with a large pine tree growing in front of its entrance. The town of Joun, Lebanon, 2025.
Two elderly men, one handing grapefruits to the other.
Reda carries a basin of orange blossom flowers after harvesting while his uncle Khalil waits on the hood of his car beside a blooming tree. The town of Joun, Lebanon, 2025.
Kids running and playing in one of Joun’s old neighborhoods. The town of Joun, Lebanon, 2023.
Kids running and playing in one of Joun’s old neighborhoods. The town of Joun, Lebanon, 2025.
A boy tends to his sheep among olive trees in the hills surrounding Joun. The town of Joun, Lebanon, 2025.
A boy plays alone with a soccer ball in an open space as clouds gather over the hills at dusk. The town of Joun, Lebanon, 2025.
Youssef — 91, one of the oldest men in Joun — looks toward an abandoned house that once belonged to a close friend who left the village during the civil war. The town of Joun, Lebanon, 2025.
An overgrown jasmine plant climbing an old, rustic wall in Joun, its tangled branches leaning to the right as soft, shimmering light falls across the surface. The town of Joun, Lebanon, 2025.
A portrait of Maher, a local man, in the streets of Joun. The town of Joun, Lebanon, 2024.
A bougainvillea tree grows in full bloom at the entrance of an abandoned house in Joun. The town of Joun, Lebanon, 2025.
A covered, rusted car sits in a weathered garage in Joun, surrounded by old walls and overgrown plants. The town of Joun, Lebanon, 2025.
A long road winds past olive trees and white wildflowers at the edge of Joun’s pine forest. Once crowded with people and traffic, the road now lies quiet. The town of Joun, Lebanon, 2025.
A view of Joun on a foggy evening, seen from one of the village rooftops. The town of Joun, Lebanon, 2024.
I still remember the village as it once was, crowded, warm, full of noise and familiarity. Friendship, family, even time itself seemed to move differently. Perhaps that’s why I photograph what’s left: to hold on to the last glimpses of a fading world, to document not only the disappearance of the village as a place, but also the vanishing of its soul.
This project is my way of remembering, and of saying goodbye.