Beirut-first impressions

It is mid morning on Saturday when my plane lands in Beirut. I smile to myself. Beirut has always been on my list of places to visit.  I’m excited but at the same time I don’t know what to expect. As I step out of the airport I take a deep breath in. Somehow, unconsciously, I always do it, the moment I arrive to a new place. It’s like feeling the city with the whole body.  I certainly remember those first breaths-humid Chicago for the first time, Bali, Dubai, Christchurch in New Zealand and many more. Now, Beirut…the air is cool, crisp and energizing-not what I expected but I love it. My kind of weather…

My hotel is in Hamra-a busy area of Beirut. From the very beginning, Beirut appears as a city of contrasts. Old, half-demolished and abandoned buildings are reminders of years of abuse this city and its people have been enduring. Right next to those however, rise newly built, powerful skyscrapers. The huge number of cranes creates a feeling of incredible dynamics and intensity. The city is being rebuilt with confidence, with hope that there will be no more bombings, no more war…Rightly so! This city has suffered enough! 

I guess every city has its own music but Beirut’s one is truly unique.  In the very early morning hours, the city belongs to birds. There are so many of them-if I didn’t know I was in the middle of the busy city I’d certainly thought I was somewhere by the forest. What is interesting is the fact that there are no huge green spaces, or parks-like here in Edinburgh. And yet the birds are everywhere…They are everywhere because Lebanese create green spaces for them on their balconies and windows. And I’m not talking about some random flowers at someone’s balcony. Pretty much every single terrace, balcony or rooftop has plenty of green plants. It’s part of the social culture…

And then around eight or nine the music changes to more urban sounds. So many cars, everyone honking-it’s like it’s a part of a driving ritual. The moment people get into their cars they begin to honk. Normal. Later on the tempo slows down, the music can be heard from the shops and cafes. People are out, walking along main streets, laughing-enjoying their lives. Life isn’t easy for them though. The government is unstable-there has been no president there for a year now, lots of corruption, huge number of Syrian refugees begging in the streets-many of them children that should be in schools…Heartbreaking…As I walk along one of the main streets I see three Muslim girls ages around eight to ten sitting at the pavement and smoking cigarettes. They catch me looking at them and one of them says: money, money!  A bit further down the street a young boy, similar age sits on an empty bucket offering to polish passersby shoes. I think of my kids. The world is so unfair… I stop for a coffee at a local café. People smoke inside. Something I got so unused to but at this point I don’t mind. I order a tiny yet very strong Turkish coffee. I sit there alone. I’m enjoying the fact that I just stare at people. I don’t have phone calls to make, reports to write, kids to care for... I can just be…Well, for an hour or so. I need to get back to the hotel and get ready for the opening night of the Atelier for Young Festival Managers that I came here to be part of. Excited and hungry for more…