Spring

Two months. Time seems to have passed in the blink of an eye. So many things going on, so many things to tell.

Spring has come out here in Lebanon as well. Every now and then, the smell of an orange or jasmin blossom succeeds in outdoing the stink of cars. People insisted that March would be the last moody month here and that summer would come with April. However, climate change (or God, you never know here) may have aligned Lebanon with European countries and gifted April with its typical weather as we know it up north. Alas, the umbrella is never far. Although things are starting to look like summer lately.

Last weekend, the occasional feeling of nature (yes, kind of joke in Beirut) was not enough for me anymore and I went for a hike with a friend of mine visiting from Jordan (the Lebanese Ministry of Tourism should start to pay me commission for all the past and upcoming visitors I host here). To my surprise, the group gathering at the meeting point at an early hour on a Sunday turned out to be quite numerous – and also quite diverse. To describe a typical Lebanese woman would result in me being very stereotypical. Let’s just say she doesn’t look like Heidi. We eventually split into two groups, one going at a slower pace and the other (ours) hiking sturdy 5-6 hours. I was almost overwhelmed with the smell of earth, the gurgling and splashing sound of a proper river and the quiet of the valley. Gorgeous! Even the gloomy weather (I told you: April) and the ever-present rubbish everywhere couldn’t dampen my enthousiasm. 

Lebanon is definitely a beautiful place – you just have to leave its captivating capital every now and then. The trip is worth it also for the people you will meet in these remote corners of the country. The Druze lady kindly letting me use her bathroom spontaneously invited me (and the entire group) for tea – an offer I unfortunately had to decline (note: the group consisted of 30 people). Such experiences remind you that the snobby inhabitants of Beirut are just not reflecting the genuine hospitality and kindness of the rest of the country’s population.

Unlucky me, weekends end on Sunday and don’t start again until Friday. My weeks start to get really busy, as work is picking up (to thank Assad would be a bit cynical, but he and his actions definitely had a certain impact on my workload) and I am busy cramming my brain with Arabic again. I have started classes last week (generously paid by the UN as it forms part of my training) and I have to admit that 6 hours a week is quite a challenge. But living and working here has taught me that having a grasp of the local dialect is essential for anyone seeking a little respect. Beirutis will make fun of modern standard Arabic (and basically anything that doesn’t sound Lebanese). I, in turn, still smirk at their pronunciation. It’s just a little posh. But what would you expect? My favourite words are the ones with “au” (like زوج or موز) because Beirutis pronounce it à la française (“o”). But the language obviously opens doors and newspapers – essential to my daily updates on the region. Through my classes, I am also discovering and learning more about the country and Arab culture in general. Teachers here differ quite a bit from the ones I had previously in Syria and Jordan: (political) discussions are much more open and critical (you could even say they are actually existent), approaching topics that would have rarely have found mentioning in other places.

Two months. Enough time to establish a certain routine and for the first cracks to appear in the paint (not just on the walls in our apartment). When you start scratching the surface, annoying things appear, but you also discover pleasant aspects of a new environment. I know Lebanon a little now and I am intrigued to see more. Let’s just hope that it remains firm as a rock in the wave of revolutions around it. إن شاء الله.

PS: I intended to put up some pictures, but the internet has proven to be true to its reputation once again (Lebanon has the slowest internet in the world. And this is not me saying that). Pictures will follow, promise.