Welcome to Lebanon

When you walk the streets of Lebanon, people will greet you in a million ways. Some examples are:

• MarHaba (Hi)
• Kifik? (How are you? for a girl)
• Sabah al khair/nour (Good morning/afternoon)
• Bonjour (if you are in the Christian side)

I am sure there is a hidden key to which one is the most appropriate, depending on the person you are talking to, but I personally mostly use MarHaba since it generally applies to everyone, no matter what time of the day it is.

What really intrigued me since I got here was that people will 9 times out of 10 reply "Ahlan" or "Ahlan Wa Sahlan". However, people also say "Ahlan" when you come in a shop, when you ask for something, and when you say "Thank you". So I figured out that "Ahlan" was the equivalent of "You are welcome".

However, like everything in Arabic, I knew there was something more to it than the simple straightforward English "You are welcome". So I asked a Lebanese friend and did a bit of research online and this is what I found:

"Ahlan" literally means "family, kinfolk."
"Sahlan" literally means "easy". So 'Sahlan' might refer to something equivalent to "May you tread an easy path (as you enter)."

Another explanation I found read: "The word 'Ahlan' means something like "You arrived among your family", or as we sometimes say "Make yourself at home". It's the same idea : with us you're home, you're in your family. It an expression of hospitality and friendliness.

I know that many times I use words automatically without meaning them. Or even worse, I hear things without really reflecting upon what they mean. Recently, a very wise person told me that the highest thing one can do for another is to welcome that person with respect and love. And when I heard that, it dawned on me that people in Lebanon have been welcoming me as their family every day, in every encounter.

I have written before about Lebanese hospitality which already blows my mind. So this little word "Ahlan" has truly transformed my experience in Lebanon and my experience of the Lebanese. How generous is it to welcome someone they don't know with the respect and love they would offer a family member? And how can they say "You are in your family" to a total stranger?

For a foreigner, who has been taught to mistrust strangers, this is a revolutionary concept. By learning to apply it, I can see how this will improve the quality of my interactions and the overall quality of my life in Lebanon. I will also maybe loosen up a bit and not be so stressed out or focus on the differences between "them" and "me".

What a paradigm shift! I walk among my family in Lebanon... The challenge is "Will I be able to drop the BS and truly welcome them back?" I think it is definitely worth trying.

Snogging in Lebanon

Lebanon, like Mexico, is a rather conservative country.

Do not be fooled by the nine inch heals, leather pants and cleavages. Girls and boys in Lebanon behave in public. PDA is not appropriate. I wouldn't say that it is as conservative as how I have heard the countries in the Gulf are, i.e. not even hand holding is permitted.

Here in Lebanon, it just doesn't happen that much. You would see the occasional snogging couple in a club, but it is still rare.

It sort of reminds me of my teenage years in Mexico. You see in Mexico, as in Lebanon, people live with their parents till they get married. But that doesn't mean that you don't have a boyfriend/girlfriend. Or that you don't have needs. Especially as a teenager. So, yup, the car is usually the only opportunity you get. Parked in a dark corner, or next to a park... It's not like you are going to do it at your parent's house. Come on... Who hasn't done it??

Lately, I have heard of some underground snogging scene... the "Lover's lane" they call it. It is in the Dbayeh area, a bit North of Beirut. This area was planned to attracts developers, so the town invested in roads and all. But somehow the developers didn't come, so it remains this big open space. And since in Beirut there aren't loads of parks, people have reclaimed this space for running, walking around and yes... snogging.

Last night at a friend's house, a friend told me that she used to go to Dbayeh at night and park behind the cars, and then turn the lights on. I thought of this as a bit mean but also hilarious. Pfewww, that's the worst feeling. When you think you got caught. But that doesn't stop you from doing it!

Another place where I have heard some action happens is near Pigeon Rock. One can see some teenagers in the area snogging, far away from the eyes of pedestrians. Teenagers from all religions that is. Which makes me smile, since teenagers will always be teenagers, not matter where they come from. Maybe we can learn from them to be a bit more fearless. To do those things that are a bit risky, but that gives us a sense of adventure. Even if that means getting caught in a bit of an embarrassing situation...

The Lebanese Gandalla

As my fellow blogger Ginger Beirut very accurately pointed in out: when you are in a new culture, it is very hard to understand the whole etiquette/politeness thing.

Something that might be surprising to some, who picture us Mexicans as this free souls, fiesta goers, is that we are actually sort of uptight in all matters of politeness.

This might be a matter of class actually, or just part of our historical heritage. Us Mexicans we always want to be appropriate, polite, or "bien educado".

But the interesting part is that we are also totally inconsiderate in other ways: after raising eyebrows at someone else's faux pas in private, it is not uncommon to see a Mexican turn into this "gandalla" this absolutely inconsiderate creature.

A "gandalla" is very Mexican, someone who will cut you in line, or in traffic, the person who gets all the cheese on top of the lasagna, the guy who stuffs his face at the party he crashed.

To the proper Mexican a "gandalla" is shameful, especially if s/he is related to you. Ugh, you'd rather die before being associated with one. So you say "no thank you" to the last piece of pizza in the box, you say "go ahead" to the old lady behind you in the bathroom line (and hate her for taking hours), and you wait until the host has started eating even if you are starving.

But the reality is that to be Mexican is to be gandalla. Especially coming from Mexico City (come on, amidst 25 million people, if you snooze, you loose): we'd rather die before letting someone pass, we shout about people's mothers and penis' sizes (small) when they cut in front of our car and if someone takes a parking spot you were waiting for, a fist fight is totally justified (yup, I've done it).

So this Mexican walks the world like Dr. Jekill and Mr. Hide, with this polite/gandalla condition, misunderstood, uptight, fearful and rebellious...

Until I got to Lebanon. Man, Lebanon has some of the most beautiful specimens of gandallas. The road gives you everyday examples of how gandalla people can be here. The ladies in the big SUVs are the best ones. They don't even look at you. They just jam on the pedal and "tough shit" if you are in front of them. Sometimes I just laugh. It is shameless, no, it is defiant.

Girls in the bathroom are quite gandalla too. You can be waiting in a restaurant in line for 10 minutes, wondering what the hell they are doing in there. When you see them emerge, done up, perfumed and powdered, they might glance at you with an "in your face" attitude, to see if you dare say something.

I think the best was when my husband and I were driving on a one way street and we came face to face with a lady who was coming on the other (wrong) way. When we asked her to back up, she gave us the finger, turned off her car and started BBMing her friend. It took 4 other cars behind us and all the neighbors to move her. I didn't know if I wanted to kill her or congratulate her... I was just sorry I couldn't tell her "Que gandalla!"

But to back to my initial point: what is appropriate, polite or "bien educado" in Lebanon? Maybe this "gandallismo" is the survivor's attitude. Maybe this is just who you become when you can't rely in a system to make things orderly. You have to fight your way through life... and the traffic light.

Green space in Beirut

For those of you who live in Beirut, you know that this city is not what you would call "green". Parks are not particularly common, especially since taking care of them is expensive. Near my house there is actually a park called "Sioufi Gardens" that is so run down that it is almost depressing to walk around it.

So you can only imagine our surprise when one day my husband and I found Horsh Beirut, this amazingly beautiful park in the middle of Beirut.

This park has been there forever, and was completely burned during the 1982 Israeli invasion of Lebanon. From a pine forest of over 1,250,000 m2 in 1696 to a park of over 800,000 m2 in 1967 (≈ 5% of Municipal Beirut), today Horsh Beirut is only a park of 255,000 m2. But still, it is huge!

After the war Horsh Beirut was restored and opened to the public.

However, some said that the crowds were starting to do some real damage to it, while others were afraid that sectarian fights would erupt in its grounds, so the municipality closed it. Today it is this beautiful green space surrounded my closed gates, between the Muslim side and the Christian side of town that can only be seen when you pass it while driving.

Yup, this magical place is actually closed to the public. And most Beirutis have never entered the park.

We felt like little kids who were been given a candy, and had to give it back after the first bite. "What do you mean we can't go in?", we asked the guard.

So this weekend we beat the system and spent actually a whole morning in the park... How did we do that??

Well, with a group of 32 friends we took on helping Zahra, a lovely Lebanese woman in her late 40s who takes care of the "Greenhouse", a garden located in the heart of Horsh Beirut.

As you might imagine, the gigantic greenhouse was a bit run down too, and Zahra does not receive any funds from the municipality to buy new tools. "We work with what we have" she says, while showing me broken shovels, twisted scissors and old buckets.

With the help on an incredibly generous person, we were able to buy Zahra new tools. Our friends were totally on board to spend a Saturday morning getting dirty and enjoying the fresh air, the flowers and plants and the tremendously calming effect of working in a garden.

Zahra walked us around the park and showed us the trees and the medicinal plants that you can find in it: remedies for a tummy ache, leaves to kill feet fungi, trees that absorb bacteria and clean the air... We all felt healthier, more knowledgeable and connected to one another.

Zahra told us stories of reconciliation, personal growth and atonment. She recalled how she was afraid of the "others" after the war, and that through receiving little kids from different groups in the park, she has been able to embrace human beings, no matter what religious background they have. She has also brought together people who wouldn't normally come together, to have fun while working in the gardens.

I think these stories left us all full of hope and with a renewed optimism. Spending time in the park was healing for all of us. And the only thing it took was offering a couple of hours of our Saturday morning.

So whoever is reading this post and lives in Beirut: the park is NOT closed to volunteers. Just go to Horsh Beirut on a Saturday morning and ask to speak to Zahra from the greenhouse, or send her an e-mail to zouzou_wr@hotmail.com. She will welcome you with open arms.

Fitness in Lebanon

There is something that continues to blow my mind in Lebanon, even after 8 months of being here: people's obsession about their appearance.

I mean, I have never seen women (and some men) more done up in my entire life. Let me explain a bit more.

When I go out to the supermarket, I usually wear jeans and a T-shirt (especially on Sundays!), and find myself not only under-dressed but also under-makeuped.

When I get in the elevator, I can forget about my perfume, since all I will be able to smell for the next hour is the perfume of the woman or man who was there before me.

When I go get my nails done at this beauty salon, I need to have a 10 minute discussion with the girl who works there explaining why I a) don't use acrylic nails, b) don't want to bleach my arms' hair (sorry for the visual there) and c) only come every other week. O a side note, it seems like 9 times out of 10, there are men getting their nails done at the beauty salon as well.

In downtown Beirut, you can find pretty much every big fashion brand, and the most expensive ones. If you go to the mall, all girls are wearing at least 9- inch heels. And if you go to a club, forget it, it is a freaking fashion show.

Please don't get me wrong, I am someone who loves make up and cool clothes. I have walked the streets of Paris, London and New York. I like fashion, and actually follow it up a bit. But style in Lebanon is far beyond anything I have seen.

I think we are all fashion victims to a certain extent (even those who say they aren't because they are obsessed with not looking like they're fashion victims). We are after all bombarded constantly by advertisements, and taught on TV, magazines and movies what looks cool and what is out.

But in this day and age looks, go actually beyond clothes, as it includes-especially in Lebanon- the way a body should look like.

To be fair, I believe that every woman in the world (and I think now more and more men) has experienced the pressure, the need or the desire to be "fit". It is common knowledge that to be "fit" is equated to be thin, healthy, athletic or just look good.

But, if you think about it, the word "fitness" actually means "the quality of being suitable". So in this context, far from coming from a desire of being healthy, when we talk about being "fit" , we are actually concerned about our ability of being adequate, suitable, or up to standard.

Suitable for what? you might ask yourself.

Lebanon is the country with more plastic surgery in the world. Some even say that one out of 3 women have gone "under the knife" in Lebanon. It actually has 1 million and a half interventions a year, seven times the rate in France! And in Lebanon there is actually something called "Plastic surgery tours". In some Gulf countries plastic surgery is considered taboo, so people come to Lebanon to get the procedure done. Europeans often come too, since Lebanese surgeons are professional and cheaper.

But why Lebanon though?

According to some, the plastic surgery boom came after the civil war, when people were disfigured. Also, since there were more women than men, women became obsessed with their looks to find suitable husbands. Another theory is at since unemployment is high, looks have become an important criterion to raise the chances of getting recruited.

But what actually surprises me the most is that I actually think that Lebanese are very attractive already. So I just don't understand where this need to look a certain way comes from.
I wonder if it comes from the fact that the Lebanese seem to be living only for the "now", as the future is so uncertain in this country. Or maybe this comes from a nostalgic idea of things needing to look a certain way, to compensate for what has been lost... Who knows.

The one thing I know is that my "expat" colleagues and I oftentimes that we are getting our hair and nails done more often here than ever in our entire life. But the reality is that no matter what we do, we will never look Lebanese. For good or bad. It's just too much work.

I'll just tell you who you are

In Mexico we have this expression: "Tell me who your friends are, I will tell you who you are" (boy, did my mother repeat that one over my teenage years!). This, obviously, comes from the popular assumption that people who are alike hang out together.

In Lebanon, this assumption goes beyond socializing, since here every little detail about you lets people know who you are.

A note for fairness: when someone tells you in Mexico where s/he comes from, you can deduct some basic things about that person, especially if s/he comes from the capital (like s/he is an arrogant or impatient a@@).

However,the mere fact of a Lebanese telling people what region or village his family is from, people in Lebanon will immediately assume they know everything there is to know about that person.

In a way, this makes sense historically, as some groups- like the Druze, have lived traditionally in a specific area (the Chouf Mountains, I understand). I want to caution that this is not, by the way, an anthropological analysis of human settlements in Lebanon. What I mean by this post is that group identification in Lebanon is extreme.

Since I just got here, I have been surprised by the assumptions people make of one another, even when they don't know each other very well. When people mention the name of their village, others assume they know their religion, their income, their politics, their education and even which language they speak. I came across an interesting blog written by a Lebanese, who says that even the colors you wear indicate your political affiliation.

On a funny note: I was offered work recently as a house maid on the street, because of the way I look. When I asked the guy where he thought I was from, he told me "You're Philipino". He was completely surprised (and as a matter of fact speechless) when I told him I wasn't.

As a foreigner, I often receive advice from well-intentioned Lebanese (who I am sure are looking for my best interests) not to hang out with people from such and such area or such and such religion. So if I follow this advice, I don't even need to know anything about people, to be able to say who they are. This completely undermines my networking possibilities!

I find this whole affair arrogant , and also very short sighted. How can you really know who someone is by a mere superficial assessment? As a matter of fact, I didn't like some of my best friends the first time I met them!

So... Let's give each other a chance and allow ourselves the opportunity to be positively surprised by one another.

Private vs. Public

I know I have already written about how hospitable the Lebanese can be. I wanted to focus this time on something that really struck me the other day.

I work in an office with about 400 people. Last week, there was a guy who was walking office by office with a huge box of chocolates.

I personally didn't know the guy, and to my surprise, he came beaming into my office to offer me a chocolate and tell me his wife just had a baby.

I was absolutely moved by the gesture, since a) I had never seen anything like this before and b) I realized what a wonderful custom this is, to let your whole community know about this happy event and about how happy you are.

In Mexico, to the contrary of what many would think, we are actually very private about our personal matters. It is hard to explain, since we are very social at the same time. But I dare say that we do not talk about the really personal stuff in public. There is a huge emphasis on "being appropriate" and saying something that would be shameful for you or your family is an absolute no-no.

And after living in New England (North East of the US), forget it. I am just used to keep conversations, especially at work on a rather superficial level, unless I have a colleague with whom I feel more at ease, and I open up.

What became very clear to me in Lebanon is that people talk about everything. Even with strangers. Some of my friends complain that this is just to nosy, that people shouldn't inquire about every detail of your life. But I just find it fascinating.

Let me give you an example: I enter the elevator in my office, and a woman is in there. I smile politely and then stare at the ceiling (I hate awkward elevator silence).

The woman asks me: are you new? And I go, no, I have been here for 6 months. And then she goes, where do you work (which unit), where do you live, are you married, you got any kids?

Or I am talking to a Lebanese person and he asks me how much my rent is, if my husband is happy, if I have gained weight since last time we saw each other... I mean, things that a Mexican would never ask.

I must say at the beginning, this made me very uncomfortable. I would just lie or change the subject. But I have now realized that behind this superficial "small talk" that I have been accustomed to my whole life is a huge fear of being known (and judged). So I talk about the little things, so the other doesn't have too much information (and can't use it against me).

Maybe the fact that I come from a city with over 20 million people makes me just naturally distrusting. Maybe my culture doesn't allow me to be vulnerable in public. Or maybe this is just a personality trait. The bottom line is that I find this Lebanese nosiness completely disarming. It makes me open up. Tell people who I am. And people look genuinely interested about me when they ask all these questions.

I don't know if as a stranger in this land I crave this type of familiarity and intimacy with people. But I must say that it has allowed me to develop more meaningful relationships around me. People in Lebanon are just friendly. For whatever reason, they just want to know.