Cork bombs and the scale of bangs

Cork Bombs and the scale of bangs

From the tales of Abu Hazza' al-Talsamani

من حكايا أبو هزاع الطلسماني


I took the girl’s hairpin I found on the street and bent it. I made it look almost like a heart but without the smooth curves. The hairpin was made of thin black metal with black paint that was peeled in some spots because of the realities of the street where I found it. It was camouflaged somehow but we found it because we were looking for it or for a type of metal threads that they use on construction sites. The new hairpins are normally shiny black.

Samer looked at Bashar and then took our remaining Falleeneh out of the cardboard box, and placed the pin I handed to him like a surgeon around the firecracker. He clamped the cork putting one end of the pin on the outside and the other over the hot red dot of gunpowder placed inside the same hollow cork. The pressure when the pin would hit the ground anyway you throw the rigged Falleeneh would trigger the explosion that is pretty much like a pistol shot. It was a sound bomb.

Sixteen Falleeneh are usually in every one box. One can buy them individually or by the box, which is cheaper. We always wanted to have the maximum amount of explosions possible and that is why we always tried to collect money from a larger group of boys and mounted our attacks on our targets.

**

They were made in China. Samer had his turn to pick up where to throw the last one we have that day. Bashar threw his last one at the bus stop. I followed with mine at the same spot. We made two consecutive small explosions. It was like some sort of a rifle sound.

The people waiting on the bus did not pay attention to the whole thing except for one man who cursed at those raising us. We ran and decided to go and see what was going on next to the deli close to the bus stop and where many boys and girls from our area would pass by if not hanging around there. There was another store on that block that was made out of four large houses with gardens around them and a well zoned street with a huge line of trees in the middle separating two lines of traffic on that wide and popular street. That was the street that ended to curl in front and around our elementary school al-Ghafiqi.

That day the regulars were not there. They were busy with one of their many fights. Samer, Bashar and I were not into that but liked to watch. We had something else on our agenda.

Samer walked into the store and bought a soda with the reminder of the money he had left. He pretended he was exiting to suddenly turn and throw his last firecracker near the feet of the unsuspected grocer Abu George, who was separated from us by the large fridge. The sound was great because it was indoor and scared the living hell out of the two men hanging out inside the store with the grocer and whom we did not like at all. It was a great plan and execution by Samer.

Abu George did not do much because he was separated, but one of the men started his movement to chase us. They all cursed at our parents. We scared them well this time as we normally do. They were a bunch of snitches anyway, where they never ceased telling our parents about everything we ever did. They also told our teacher since that our math teacher lived next door among other things.

Abu George took our money all the times. His son George was few years younger than us and always played soccer with us at al-Ghafiqi elementary school, the place of choice.
The older rowdy boys always played the greatest pranks on Abu George, and for us to make something happen to him that would make us famous in the hood was a matter of time. We were ready for that and were about to come any moment.

**

We were going to school when we saw his store closed. Normally he would open at 6 am so he could get those going to the Elementary School or those going to the bus station going downtown to work. We had to be at school at 5 minutes to seven when our first class started, and that day we had the time to do our attack and be at school at the same time. That day we wanted to do something we heard about from the older boys. It was the right time and place.

We had the glue for the art class the rest was history. Abu George came to see his lock sealed where it took him half a day pouring hot water on it and trying to pick the glue out. He perfected that technique we heard. But it took time and the neighbors were not there all the time to provide the hot water. He never suspected that we would do that and accused the older rowdy crew, who of course did not mind the bad reputation and claimed the attack.

**

Falleen is cork in Arabic and Falleeneh is one cork and it is the firecracker we use. Most of the times we had to buy them from the smugglers because the government banned importing them, but still let the people use them in some religious holiday especially ‘Eid al-Mahyyah. Some toys and variety stores downtown would sell under the counter every now and then, but going downtown was out of question for most of the year. Still, we always managed to find holes and sneak there every now and then.

The day before we saw the smuggler around our school selling banned Red Marlboros and when Bashar asked him about Falleen he pointed to a grocery to get from. He gave us his nickname of course and it was Abu al-Ghadab, which meant the Father of Anger. When we heard his name we did not want to ask for anything else. We wanted to discuss his name amongst us and find who was going to claim it. Bashar was first to claim it but Samer and I resisted. Later that day we decided that none of us should be carry the name Abu al-Ghadab and should look somewhere else. Also, we discussed the money issue to buy the two boxes.

Our plan needed two boxes of the firecracker so we can make the two bombs we wanted to build. We always wanted to create a bang bigger than those we heard around us all the times. We were impressed with the bombs dropped from the planes in the many air raids we witnessed so far. Those were the loudest and scariest ones. Next come those of the big one-barrel anti aircraft gun from the fields and orchards east of our elementary school. Then comes that of an offensive hand grenade, to be followed by the defensive one. The two barrel anti aircraft gun on the hill next to our school would be next to be followed by the four barrel located on the same hill. The Russian rifle comes after the dynamite made and used by the fishermen. Last on the scale were handguns. Many people carried handguns around, but those were mostly army officers, policemen and Mukhabarat or Amn, who were undercover agents. Amn means security in Arabic. Many of those undercover agents flaunted their guns to get certain things among which was bread from the local bakery that started closing early causing troubles to all the boys of the hood who were responsible, like me, for that daily trips to the bakery. The expanding branches of the various branches of the state’s security apparatus put more pressure at our local bakery because it brought many to work in the branch of Security that was located in our hood and on Samer and Bashar’s block. That meant more fights at the limited resources bakery that was meant to service our hood and not the many new arrivals. Boys and older males were supposed to be the ones responsible for that errand for their households. There was Amn Siyasi, Amn Askari, and Amn al-Dawlah branches in our town. Siyasi means political and that branch was downtown. In our hood there was al-Amn al-‘Askari, which meant the Army’s Security. This one is located at the end of the block where Samer and Bashar lived. On our way to school we would pass Amn al-Dawlah, which meant the State’s Security. Army officers and other from different ranks staffed these units and headed them. They all wore civilian clothes. They were armed and there building were guarded very well by men wielding their AK 47s spreading around the hood depending on the looming danger.

**

Samer and I always had the idea of building a bomb but never did it and instead had more fun throwing the firecrackers individually at anyone and everywhere you can imagine. To blow up the whole box at once instead of having 24 different explosions was hard to think about. But, the explosions around us all the time were giving us ideas. Bashar was always against the idea. He was always in favor of coordinated attacks on those who deserved it. Samer and I were positive that we could make a bomb that would sound like a hand grenade. Falleen was the only one good for that plan.

There were many types of firecrackers that reached us every now and then. There were the rockets that whistle upon ignition till it reached its target. We loved those and would fire the one we buy from the roof all the times using bottles to guide the path of the rocket. They were also made in china, and as a matter of fact all of our firecrackers were made in China and brought in the huge ships that we would see in the port. The rocket was gunpowder wrapped around a thin ten inches stick with a wick. The same wrapped gunpowder also came without sticks and those were called Fattush. Those varied in size and thickness with the big ones making sounds just like gunshots and more. They came in packs and sometimes we bought them individually. The best was when one would put 24 of the biggest one together and ignites it in an empty barrel. And there was Falleen, the cork that was empties with the red explosive clay like material placed inside. Those were the best for our plan.

It was a great plan, I thought, because it would make us produce something that would rival many on the explosion scale. All it needed was to empty a large radio battery of what is inside so one can fill that with the red clay gunpowder that we would take out of each Falleeneh. We would stack them tight together and close the top with something soft but tight and upon throwing it the impact would trigger the explosion. No one would be hurt because one can throw the bomb far away and we would do it in an empty space. We also decided to throw them after lunch when people would be home taking naps so everyone would hear it. The place where to throw it was easy to pick. It was around the square in our hood and close to many teachers’ homes as well as to the few girls we wanted to grab their attention somehow. That place would be empty around 3.

Getting the money was to be planned to, and our best bet was to convince Rami, Samer’s first cousin to buy the firecrackers. We knew how to convince him. It was very easy. We told him one story about the smuggler, a man he was dying to meet. He was a year younger than us in school and still in the Sixth grade in al-Ghafiqi. He lived in our hood few streets south of the bus stop that was on the street separating our hood into two zones.

Getting the material was eventful again and was one of the reasons for Rami to put money into the venture. He was not interested in explosions and sounds like we did. He was more interested into schemes to make money and buy and sell things even though he was still in elementary school. He tried to sell us many different things all the times but this time we sold him the excitement of meeting Abu al-Ghadab the smuggler. We knew right away that we had a commodity in Abu al-Ghadab that we could sell to lots of friends amongst whom is Rami.

Abu al-Ghadab did not disappoint us at all. He was dressed in army fatigue pretending that he was an officer with the army special forces and intimidating people around our school while one of his associates another big man with dark sunglasses named Abu al-Layl was doing the selling of the Red Marlboros next to their car that had, of course, fake license plates, something even us seventh graders would distinguish. al-Layl means night in Arabic and if your name is Abu al-Layl you are supposed to be controlling the dangerous elements that is associated with the night. Of course none of us was allowed to be out at night. It was the uncharted land for us all, except for Rami.

Rami bought a pack and offered both smugglers smoke something they did and thanked him for that. They started smoking all together but never gave us the welcome Rami was waiting for. Samer, Bashar and I were in a hurry to get back home so we split to go to the grocery Abu al-Ghadab pointed us to so we can buy the firecrackers.

Rami smoked all the way to the store and then home. Again, the names of the smugglers became the topic of the conversation. They were too good not to be thought off at least for the moment. My brother always made fun of their names. Bashar, again, wanted Abu al-Ghadab and Rami picked Abu al-Layl fast because as he said he is always out at night. That could happen in reality because his father was away working in another country, his mother had divorced his father a while back and the one who is watching him is his older sister because the eldest brother went to the Capital, like my brother, to study in the University. Adding to all of that, their grandmother lived with their other uncle in the hood and Rami did not lack family. He always told us that he was allowed to venture into the night. He said that we should throw the bombs at nighttime.

Rami bought three boxes of Falleen to make three bombs instead of two like we planned earlier. We held the boxes and smelled it. We all loved the smell of it and of course the sound they would make. We handled them with care and decided to put them in Rami’s house till the next day after school. Rami’s sister was very nice to us as usual and made us food and drinks and some of the cakes that she made all the times. She was a friend of my sister who is just older than I. My older sister did not give a good opinion of her and called her a hippie, which she was.

Back home it was the usual, got questioned about my day. My sisters were home listening together to Fairuz and chatting. Fairuz was common ground to everyone in the house, and whenever she was on the radio everyone listened to the songs the memorized by heart. The show they listened to normally would be one of the request shows that my elder sister hated and preferred to listen to the tapes of plays and songs my brother brought back with him and left us. I loved them too. I did not like the radio.

**

School was the same the next day, but we were anxious for the day to end so we can assemble our bombs. We decided to build them behind our old elementary school where there was a large piece of undeveloped land where we played all the times. We also decided to bring Wa’el, Bashar younger brother and our biggest fan and supporter. He was in the second grade in al-Ghafiqi at the time. We also decided to run all the errands have lunch and then sneak out when our parents would be taking their afternoon nap.

The meeting spot was Abu George the grocer where we bought soda and headed to the assembly place crossing into behind our elementary school through the small city park north of the school and across the street from Samer’s home. Rami was prepared and had with him some tools we needed for the operation. He was always ready like that and had lots of tools something of us did not have access too since that our fathers would be taking tally all the times of their tools.

With the hammer and the screwdriver we were able to peel the hard cover of the battery. We found many batteries on the street few days ago and had saved them for this moment. We knew how we wanted to empty the interior that would be filled later with the explosive material after we take it off the firecracker.

We divided the labor. Samer and Bashar were careful as usual but Rami was not. He wanted to make a bomb by himself so he started stuffing the first emptied batteries fast. We, of course, warned him that he might trigger the sensitive gunpowder. He did not listen and what came next made us all laugh and remember up to this day.

The explosion was fast and strong and threw all the coal like material from inside the battery into Rami’s face. We did not move at all. He stood silent and then burst laughing. We all laughed. We told him that he looked good like that and should keep it till he goes home. That happened because he was applying too much pressure unlike Samer who was able to fill the two emptied batteries and sealed them with paper and tape. And, when we walked back to the hood Abu George the grocer took notice of Rami’s face when we passed in front of him and wanted to know the story when we stopped to buy something from him. Rami showed that he did not care and told us that he wanted to throw his bomb into the grocery later when it is empty. We stopped him from doing that and parted ways leaving the two bombs we made with him, since that he was the one that paid for the firecrackers.

On our way home we harassed the dog on the corner and kicked the posts of the bus stop as usual something that gave a sweet sound. A week before we tagged the same post with our initials that stayed there for one week till it was covered with the some flyers announcing a service for a dead person from the hood.

**

My mother noticed the mud on my shoes right away and ordered me to wash them in our front garden and asked me to leave the shoes to dry somewhere outside. I did not want to leave my good Chinese soccer shoes outside. They were black and wore nice when old. I liked them and kept my old ones all the times in spite of my mother’s attempts to throw them away. I told my mother that day that I was playing soccer with the boys justifying the presence of mud. I played soccer almost everyday, but recently the three of us started playing basketball against Ammar the kid who lived on the first floor in Samer’s building, and who was a couple of years older than us and about a foot taller. He was the tallest seventh grader we knew, and he went to school downtown. He also was training with Hutteen basketball team with the 12 to 14 divisions, something the three of us dreamt about being in to no avail.

That day I washed my sneakers outside and tried to walk, as usual, not to draw the attention of my father. He was reading in one of the front rooms of the house in his spot. And when he saw me, he asked me about what I did that day? He always assumed that I had done something bad and his best way to find that out was to start by asking my about my school homework’s.

**

I ate the food my mother had made and was able to watch some television as usual. My father loved television more than anything else and wanted to see the only television channel we get. Our government made sure to block other stations from different countries to enter our homes. The attempts of some people to get bigger antennas that rotate were paying off, but my father never wanted that. At least for that time period.

The official news at eight thirty was also our official dinnertime. All of my four sisters and father would not sit in the kitchen and rather eat while watching television in the living room. And after the news, there was normally the Arabic soap opera, which we were allowed to watch sometimes, and all followed headed by my father. Sometimes, depending on father’s mood or the progress I have done with my homework’s I was allowed to watch some of the foreign language films and shows that came later. I loved these shows and wanted to watch them all the time.

That night it was very obvious. I had came home all muddy and I had homework’s do so television was out of question. I was banned from television all night and right from the time I got in I knew where to go to study and finish my work.

I went and spend time with my older sister who was listening to a play on tape. She helped me with my math, conjugation, physics, biology and history. My other sister was listening to her shows in one of the front rooms pretending she was studying, where my two youngest sisters were watching television and were in bed by ten getting ready to go to school the next day. Both were good students of course.

By eleven I was in my bed reading one of the magazines I had borrowed from Samer that day. It was hidden underneath one of my schoolbooks. My father, who checked on me few times, thought I was doing some math, something I knew that would turn him away. He would rather to be fronted with history, that he read about a lot, or poetry.

I had the latest of Tin Tin the Arabic issue, and which was published in Egypt and reached us to be banned later for its anti-Arab stories, which was true, but for us we did not know or care and all of what we wanted is to know what was going to happen in the stories we followed and which was presented to us as a film story board dealing with different time periods and locations. We visited the world and times through that magazine, as well the few other ones that existed, and which I started reading few years back through Samer who collected them.

I bought some super hero Arabic comic books sometimes, but my father had found the whole stash and threw them away into the garbage.

It did not take me that long to finish reading what happened to the 6 different stories inside the magazine. I have read them super fast when I first saw that issue with Samer at school that day. He had lent me the last issue that I had read many times from cover to cover.

**

I knew it was really late when I heard the sound of two explosions rocking our hood. I could not distinguish them at first. I thought they might be dynamite assembled by one of the rowdy fishermen. I started asking my self-weather that could be a hand grenade or something. But, the sound was higher than that and more muffed and it was higher and different from those of those of the anti-aircraft guns, and which would never shoot just two bullets. We heard those anti-aircraft guns a lot lately trying to fend the city against the raiding jetfighters that were coming more and more.

I knew it was late when I heard the two explosions. TV, which closed at midnight everyday, was long gone as evidenced with the silence spreading all over our house and the hood. Everyone in my house was asleep except for me still thinking about the stories I had read. My brother had been gone for over a month now and the stories and conversations we had every night were gone too and that silence every night made it easy for someone like me to know all the sounds that were invading the night.

Then it came to me that night. Rami had done it and threw the two bombs we kept at his place. He told us that he wanted to throw them at night after we rejected the idea of attacking the grocery with it. Part of me was admiring his ability to be out and never afraid of the night. I was a little because of my super busy imagination.

It was not till the next day that my fears were confirmed into reality. After school we saw Rami waiting for us. He apparently skipped school that day. Bashar, Samer and I had discussed it all day and agreed that we lost our bombs even though both guys did not hear the explosions. I did and they both believed me knowing Rami, who was waiting smoking and told us right away that he went to Abu al-Ghadab and was able to secure a purchase of a better amount of firecrackers. He opened the backpack he was carrying and inside was a variety of them all; rockets, Fattush from all sizes, Night Stars, and ten cases of Falleen. And before anyone of us said a word, since that we were all admiring the arsenal we got, and said that the bombs fell off his roof the night before. We did not care at that moment at all because what we saw in his bag made us think right away with the attack that we planned and which came in full force later.