I spent the bulk of my last night out in Beirut at a bar in Gemayzeh; that long skinny street were Ferraris and nightspots intermingle with Ottoman architecture and Maronite grandmothers. The bar in question, Torino Express, is a tiny, crowded, smoky closet of a place with a feel that's simultaneously welcoming and aloof. Owned by a middle-aged lefty and manned by a friendly trio (two tend bar one spins tunes), it was the kind of place I lose track of time in. And I did, somewhere between that first Almaza and the over-cooked hot-dogs with mayonnaise that the bartenders and I ate it got late. Closing time. I swigged back my last Dewars on the rocks low-ball, butted out yet another Marlboro Red, tipped the bartenders, said goodbye to a few, got a kiss on the neck and I was off.
As we flew over the Ring overpass blaring the Decemberists, I took one last look at the khiam (what many call the tent city up by opposition protesters) that I had waded into out of curiosity a week earlier.
It was then then that I realized something fundamental about myself: I love Lebanon unconditionally. I thought my feelings were waning as I aged but my trip revealed to me that the opposite is true. This mad, tiny, beautiful slice of land on the Mediterranean that passes itself off as a country will keep me coming back no matter how many times it disappointments, angers or perplexes me.
Lebanon has broken my heart many times over my relatively short life but despite it all I love it more now than I ever have. I lived most of my life outside Lebanon but whenever I step off the plane in Beirut I feel like I'm home.
Why is this? I don't know. I can't explain it. In fact, I'd rather I wasn't so attached. But I can't help it.
I tried to find a parallel to my relationship with the place.
Is Lebanon that beautiful, cool, crazy girl that's great in bed but is prone to disastrous tantrums that you always forgive?
Or is Lebanon that gifted funny child with so much promise that keeps infuriating his parents with his/her self-sabotaging behavior?
I soon gave up. Beirut nor I had time for existential dilemmas and metaphoric flourishes - it was late and I had to pack in the morning.
Monday, January 08, 2007
Lebanon: Dysfunctional Relationship
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4 comments:
even as a non-lebanese, i feel the same way....maybe cause of the lebanese influence i had growing up, or its just the vibe that Beirut gives out.. what ever the case is... I HEART BEIRUT
Some how, the Lebanese living abroad seem to be more attached to Liban than those living in it. I guess it has to do with experience.
Those of us who lived abroad realize that there's no place like Liban, and no matter where you go, you'll always feel you're missing something when you are not in Liban.
As for those who lived their whole life in Liban, they tend to believe that they are sick and tired of everything related to Liban, that they can't wait till they get the chance to leave and never come back. They believe that they can simply run away and leave everything behind.
But what they don't know is that Liban is simply a pure addection, you just can't recover from it. It eats you from inside out, and there is no cure but to accept the fact that you are toally in love with Liban, and you should do whatever you can to some back and live your passion, each in his/her very own way....
i discovered one thing during the 28 years of life i lived, no matter were you live you end up hating it untill you leave... (you don't know what you got till it's gone)
and i lived all over.
Great post. I lived most of my life in Beirut, until the last 2 years. And now I am on this trajectory which will keep me away for another few years. But no matter what happens, I will miss every street and every person that I have met and known. And as corny as this might sound, my life will not be complete until I come back. As failasoof, said, Lebanon is an addiction.
I live it, and I am loving it.
PS: Torino is a great (and actually cheap!) place to hangout.
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