Memories of Beirut

Beirut, Lebanon – written on May 27, 2007, / Edited: May 7, 2020

 

Today was my first day in Beirut. I went for a walk along the Corniche onwards to Raouché. At some point, I thought I had everything wrong and that Raouché was in the opposite direction. And then, I came across a family; I asked them whether they spoke French, and two of them replied yes, enthusiastically. They told me I was heading in the right direction, and as we said goodbye, the man said: “Vous êtes les bienvenus ici!”. That must have been the most heartwarming welcome I have ever heard. I smiled.

"Vous êtes le bienvenu ici!" . That must have been the most heartwarming welcome I have ever heard. I smiled.

“Vous êtes les bienvenus ici!”. That must have been the most
heartwarming welcome I have ever heard. I smiled.

 

The Raoché

The Raoché

On my second day, I moved to a hotel closer to the heart of Beirut, the Hamra district. In the taxi bringing me to the hotel at Hamra, the driver was telling me how he’d liked to be my guide around the place, etc. I shifted the conversation to other topics until we came to the subject of traffic in Beirut. Oh, you see, it’s Sunday today; it is very relaxing to drive in this area, he said. A few minutes later, our car crashed with another one on an intersection. I was in complete shock. I was on the back seat, and I was fine, I just hit my knee against something in front, and it was somewhat sore. The driver seemed unharmed as well, but he was also in complete shock. A few seconds later, people gathered around us.The car crash in Beirut

The car crash in Beirut

I got off the car and saw that the front of the vehicle got folded. Luckily, no windows got smashed, though the airbag didn’t deploy. I saw an ambulance coming; on the other side was the car that we hit. The other person seemed ok, but I dared not look; I was afraid. My hands were trembling. A medic asked if I were ok, I said yes I’m ok, but I felt so bad; so sad about what was happening. Another car picked me up. I said goodbye to the driver and told him I felt sorry. He smiled and said he’s going to be ok. Up to now, I feel so sad about this. I know it could have happened anywhere, but I can’t help it.

In recent years, I have visited countries around the Mediterranean basin with great interest in their role in the Antiquity towards the Renaissance; as such, I usually check out their main Archeological Museum. I saw progress on how I appreciated these museums as time passed. The Beirut National Museum has served as a “Clef de voûte” to the Museums that I’ve seen – I’ve been able to cross-link what I’ve learned in other places. The Museum displays Archeological items found in Lebanon from Pre-history to the “Phoenician Period, Hellenistic Period, Roman Period, Byzantine Period, and Mamluk Period during the Arab conquests” (Wikipedia): it quite simply is one of the main crossroads of History.

Archeological Museum

Archeological Museum

Crossroads, it is. When you are in Beirut, you neither feel you’re in the West, East, South or North. You think that you’re in a liberal society, but after some time, you notice that it is progressive in a singular way. Poverty is visible in Lebanon, but it is not as extreme as in Egypt, yet one cannot say that it’s at a level as that of European countries.

View from a a bar at Hamra district

View from a bar at Hamra district

When I got out of the Museum, I oriented myself to the place so that I could point out where downtown’s direction is, this would make me appear less stupid if I flagged a Taxi-Service( flagging one on the wrong side of the road for example). Contrary to regular taxis, Taxi-service can group one or more clients heading towards the same direction. If you’re a foreigner, you better brush out your negotiating skills because you’ve got to have the price and the place setup before boarding these cars – there are no taxi-meters. Now, this can be complicated if the driver doesn’t understand you or pretends not to, so you’re better off learning how to pronounce the places that you are going to in Arabic.

“Downtown, 1000 pounds,” I said to the driver. He complied, and I got inside. What I wasn’t expecting was when he asked, “Where do you want to go downtown?”. Martyr’s Square, I replied. What? I can show it to you on a map, I added. It is at this moment that the other client sitting on the front seat intervened. I pointed to him Martyr’s Square, but in a second, I changed my mind and pointed out Mohamed El-Amine Mosque. He promptly gave the Arabic name of the Mosque, and we all came into an understanding. The other client was young, he spoke excellent English, and we had a short talk until he stopped at his destination. From the way he acted, I’d say he was a student at one of Beirut’s prime Universities.

Al-Amin Mosque

Al-Amin Mosque

As we passed by, some streets, checkpoints, and tanks abound with military personnel around. Aren’t you afraid to be here, the driver asked. I told him: “You know I come from the Philippines, and in some places there, we have pretty much the same situation.” He smiled and started playing the tourist guide as soon as he saw a glimpse of downtown.

I’ll tell you where to go, see that building over there that is the Parliament, and that one, the Mosque of Mohamed al-Almine, now I can’t drop you there as the roads are closed, but as you can see it’s a short walk from here. I like you, my friend. Be careful in that area! I got down and waved goodbye.

From afar, I could see the pitched tents just beside this beautiful new Mosque; I was wondering who occupied these tents. Is this a refugee camp? A protest? I started taking pictures of the scene and keeping some distance to this gathering. Suddenly a young man from the group of people camping near the Mosque came towards me and uttered some words. I couldn’t understand what he was saying, and so I just tapped his shoulders and smiled. Yeah, photos, photos go, he added. I could feel he wanted to tell me something else, but the language barrier made him think that it would probably be useless. A few hours later, I would realize that these campers were not refugees but partisans of Hezbollah, who have been doing a sit-in downtown ever since last year. They, in part, explain why the center of the city has been sealed from traffic and heavily guarded by Military men.

I walked around, taking pictures of Martyr’s Square this time, which gave the center a ghost town appearance. The clearing gave a view of the vast empty streets in the center. I looked at my map, trying to orient myself. When a military man approached me and asked, can I help you? Yes, would you know which direction Hamra is?

Virgin Mega Store Downtown Beirut

Virgin Mega Store Downtown Beirut

He looked at the map and promptly told me the direction for Hamra as well as more information on the local landmarks. There you can go to the Virgin Megastore; it is open today. You also have restaurants around, but here they are costly. Then he added, can I have your number we could perhaps party here. I gave my telephone number, and he gave his. Send me an e-mail, just say it’s Paul from Beirut and I will remember! We bid goodbye; he told me to go on and don’t hesitate when walking by checkpoints. In one of these checkpoints, I had my bag searched, responding to questions like whether I was a Journalist.

Later, I reached place de l’Etoile, where I heard the sound of children playing around at this famous round-about. It was a pleasant surprise! There were families all around the place, enjoying the sun, enjoying the sealed streets of downtown Beirut.

place de l’Etoile, Beirut

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