Souren is a man of few words, but he has many stories to tell; I knew it as soon as I made eye contact with him. He sits in a nondescript corner of Bourj Hammoud surrounded by colorful prayer beads and listens to lively Armenian music from an old radio. I smiled when I saw some yellow beads in his hand and felt the urge to talk with him. He told me he moved from Aleppo, Syria, to Bourj Hammoud 30 years ago. I learnt he was a jeweller — which explained the striking rings on his fragile fingers — and had a shop in Bourj (Martyrs’ Square), which he sadly lost. As we spoke, I browsed his collection of bits and bobs: a cross, some thread, a picture of Saint George, tarnished silver. My curiosity led me to a black-and-white photograph. He told me it was of him and his brother near their shop. I asked who was wearing the suit, although I already knew the answer.