Beirut

I have never walked the streets of Beirut in day time. Neither have I sat in an ahwé (café) to order a mint tea there.
I don't know what it is like to breathe Beirut. I have no idea where Hamra street is. I don't know if Ashrafieh is in Beirut or not. I wouldn't know how to give you directions to go to Beirut or to come back from zwérib Beirut.
When I say "Beirut" I think of Majida El-Roumi's glorious song "Ya Beirut". And every time I listen to this song, my heart races because I feel like I have left my own child behind. I have left my Beirut behind without ever turning back. I simply woke up one day in Kuwait and decided that I would not think about this Capital. Why should I anyway? I had never lived there. I was never interested in visiting the tiny roads or the common dilapidated houses. And I know I am to blame, but I am not the only one. The truth of the matter is, we are nothing but little fragments of dust in this beautiful city and She does not need us anyway. Beirut was torn to pieces and rebuilt seven times. Never did She give up on herself. She stood up against all odds. She stood up in the face of people like you and me. She held her head high in front of all the wars, the hunger, the corruption and the violence.
And every time She did so, She looked a little brighter, She smiled and She forgave.

In this life, you come across people and events that somehow contribute in shaping you into becoming another person. A couple of weeks ago, my sister thought of me when she heard about a book that was newly released in Lebanon. She simply said to me "Randa I feel like you might like this book" And Randa did.
Beirut, I love you is a memoir written by Zena El Khalil, in which this author describes her long story of love and hate to Beirut. She actually thinks of Beirut as a woman that has a constant power on us, that we occasionally try to defy, but most of the time we naturally succumb to her Beauty.
I am half way through this book, and I already miss Beirut, although, like I said, I have never truly been there. Of course I have been to Virgin Megastore, to Downtown Beirut, to Gemayzé, to the Mathaf (the museum) and the Corniche. But, still, I haven’t been there either.
Yet, I do miss its joy. I miss its Muslim, Christian and Druze community living together. I miss the tea and the smiles, the old buses and the kids playing in the streets. I love its lebanese man'oushé and the Bonjus Orange (even though it is slightly bitter but very refreshing).