Lebanon in December

A bomb attack had killed an army general a week before my planned trip to Beirut. I remember this as I land in Beirut airport, looking nervously out of the plane’s window. I enter the airport to find that it is organised and clean. The immigration officer is professional and I ask whether I would be allowed back into Lebanon if I travel to Syria by road. Yes he replies without hesitation, “just as I stamped your passport on, the immigration officer at the Syrian-Lebanese border will do the same.”

Coming out of the airport, I see a scene which I can’t remember seeing anywhere else. There is a large crowd of people excitedly waiting to greet their family and friends who have just flown in, and several of them are carrying colour colourful bouquets of flowers. It looks wonderful.

My first impressions of the city are that is a classically Mediterranean. Palm trees line the roads. The streets are very clean. There are tanks and personnel carriers at some street corners, but the soldiers are standing around casually while the people walking by are oblivious to them. I pass the spot where Hariri was killed in 2005. There is a poster of him and a digital clock set at the of the explosion: 10:49.

I travelled South to the cities of Saida (Sidon) and Sur (Tyre) an area rich in citrus fruits. While having lunch my grandmother complained to the waiter that the white peelings on the juicy part of the mandarin were too thick. Yes, the waiter responded with a smile “they’re thick skinned, just like us, the men of the south.” This response delights my grandmother and all of a sudden, she forgets about her complaint.

From my six days in Lebanon, it was the attitude of the people, their cheerfulness and energy which really made an impression on me. They are very lively, they talk fast, and at times I feel myself to be boring and slow in front of them, I cannot keep up with their pace and enthusiasm.

I went to a town called Zahle, near the border with Syria for a wedding. It is high in the mountains and the temperature was close to zero. The guests were doing the traditional dabke dance and I was watching it for 20 minutes and then got tired of looking and decided to join in with my cousin. But, I didn’t know the steps, and I only lasted a few minutes before I noticed people either side of me leaving and going to join another part of the circle..

I never made it to Syria, but I hope I will do that as well...