Beirut is ageing.

There’s a random quote that goes like:  “A man among children will be long a child, a child among men will be soon a man.”

This is very much related to what I have in mind, or not.

Back to my random quote, Beirut was a new born child few years ago. In her early 50’s she was blossoming, people barely had any worries or doubt. None thought of mistakes or down hills or even ups and downs. Beirut was the child among men. And then it all clashed during our civil war (I wrote our because You and I are still indifferent from our fathers and grandparents who started and participated in that war, we are barely making any difference). Long after that, Beirut was no longer a child. Beirut grew older, she became wiser. Beirut became a man, a man among children; I am talking about Beirut because I know her best and we are kind of close.

See, I like her, there’s something about her. She makes me so mad most of the time; with all her traffic and damned lights and bad oxygen and horrible taxi drivers and disgusting Chawarmas.

Yet, I take a walk at night, and I start admiring her clumsiness, her wet sidewalks and her dim lights.

I used to walk around Beirut a lot. Then one day I found something better to do, because she was no longer the same to me, I stopped walking, picked few books about her and started reading instead.

It got me confused. Books, articles and old photos, something wasn’t right. Where are those old majestic buildings now? That pine tree misplaced yet magical? Where’s that cute forty year old taxi driver? And what about that lady in red making her way through the cars, welcomed by smiles and not by a “chu yaaa” expression? Where’s that smell of fresh baked mankouche? Where are our Holidays festivities and spirits? 

Beirut, Beirut, my darling, you aged.

You lost your odours,

You lost your spark,
Christmas is no longer the same,

People barely smile,

Everyone is so stressed and tired,

I see wrinkles I see no skins.

I am not day dreaming about some fairy tale taking place in a lala land.

Back in 1992, Beirut was my lala land.

While scanning old photo, I compare them to the new ones realizing how everything became too fake.

They left no artistic sidewalks, not even enough vintage buildings, I don’t see why.

I never encountered a tourist visiting Beirut to go to Skybar or Bo18, to eat at McDonalds, or to take a long refreshing walk next to a dump (our shore), to take a swim in oily water (our sea)  nor to check into some hotel like the Four Seasons. 

So would you please tell me why? Why did she turn into this man, controlled, ruined, bought and sold  by children, not to mention: owned by money.