Living Beirut Off-Season
So, after a stint in San Francisco, where I worked as the Social Media Intern for the co-working space HUB, I am back in Beirut, Lebanon.
As I compare my first impressions from June and my new insights, I see how these two experiences may have nothing in common except for country.
This past summer, spent studying Modern Standard Arabic at the American University of Beirut (AUB), I passed all my time studying (and clubbing once in a while!). Here again, I foresee a more laid back Mediterranean approach to Beirut including journalistic internships, many political and social discussions and evenings spent by the sea.
On my first trip to Beirut, I lived in the AUB dorms and hence, similar to American colleges, I lived in ‘the campus bubble.’ However, this time around, I am living in my own studio! And to make it even more of a pivotal experience, this is the first time I live alone! No roommate or family!
Contrasting my then and now, I must take note of the ease I feel in just being. The anxiety I felt during the first weeks of the summer here are nowhere in sight. Even though I didn’t really know the lay of neighborhood I am living in, my first day here I explored and climbed comfortably in contrast to my first weeks in Hamra when I was at AUB. Before, I felt like a passer by, now, I feel this is my home. I have explored more in a few days than I did in all my two months of intensive Arabic study!
One may ask, why the shift? It is possibly because I now understand much more Lebanese language than I did when I came during the summer time? or maybe because I know more of the etiquette, the do’s and don’ts? I would like to think that it is both of those, plus the amount of personal growth experienced during the past six months out of conventional college.
Beirut feels different even to Lebanese. While my comfort is a positive, many Lebanese feel true stagnancy in the city’s core. Beirut itself is empty, and not just in comparison to the summer months! Due to khaliji (Gulf states) boycott of a certain Lebanese organization, many restaurants and hotels are worrisomely empty. Even Petit Café, a famously packed buzzing spot over looking Raoche, the notable Lebanese rock formation, had more open seats than not and while having desert at Moevanpick, a luxery hotel over looking the coast, I found myself “owning” the terrace. I was the only one out there!
It is so odd to experience the city of such pumping energy beating at a calmer rate.
But, in the slower tempo, I feel I am truly living the city.