Beirutista

A while ago, I met my dear friend Joumana Rizk over coffee and a quick catch-up. Joumana, who heads Mirros Communications , handed me a manilla envelope with a gift inside. I slipped my hand in and pulled out the newly published novel Birds in the Rain by first-time author Rana Hanna. I promised Joumana I’d read it, and boy was it easy to keep my word. Birds in the Rain by Rana Hanna (published by Bold Story Press, 2025) I inhaled Rana’s book, unable to put it down late-night when I should have been ceding to slumber. Over the course of a few evenings, I followed the narratives of Layla, a young widow grieving her husband’s death as she raises her son Michael. Each chapter is titled by the point of view through which it is narrated, spanning Layla, Michael, Jeddo (Layla’s father and hence Michael’s grandfather), and Marc (a trustworthy friend of Layla who is devoted to her and Michael’s well-being). The book is written in the third-person, except for those chapters narrated by Michael...

Exactly one week ago, memes started circulating throughout Lebanon as Iran and Israel went to war. The two nations were exchanging missiles, sending them sailing over Lebanese airspace, but folks in Lebanon were too busy on the snowy slopes of Faraya and Kfardebian to take notice or care. Oh, the sad irony, when less than 48 hours later, Lebanon became embroiled in the war, too. Skiers gliding down the slopes at the Mzaar-Kfardebian ski resort northeast of Beirut, Lebanon. Saturday, January 3, 2026. (Photo credit: AP Photo/Hassan Ammar) There is so much insight to unpack from that meme. First and foremost, Lebanese people are a recreation-loving, joie-de-vivre-seeking, jolly sort of folk. They truly just want to live and let live. I’ve never seen a populace enjoy life so fully, despite local and regional setbacks. Defiant persistence is etched in their DNA. They are doomed to suffer, even though they are not culpable.  I mean, seriously, how much more adversity need the Lebanese pe...

When I launched my blog Beirutista some 14 years ago, in the summer of 2012, I wasn’t exactly certain what the focal point would be. Sure, most of my articles featured candid and thorough reviews of eateries and holes-in-the-wall I’d discovered on my prowls through my new surroundings (I'd settled in Lebanon just the year before). I loved dishing out spotlights of lesser-known food spots or profiles of up-and-coming chefs. I could wax poetic about a cocktail prepared with finesse, or a pizza pie descended from the heavens. And while my taste buds were enjoying a culinary adventure of their own, I was also interested in the artist crafting his or her art. I’m a storyteller. I’ve always been a storyteller, even when I was pursuing a mechanical engineering degree in undergrad and grad school. I doubled down on honors humanities and social sciences to temper my technical studies and add a layer of communicative skills to what I do. You’re only as relatable as your words, written or ora...

I moved to Lebanon in early 2011, which means I’ve lived in the Land of the Cedars for well over a decade now. Before settling here, I’d always wondered how I’d fit in with the broader Lebanese public in day-to-day activities. Sure, I’d spent countless summers in our second home, perched in the eastern suburbs just outside of Beirut. But everyone knows that vacationing as an expat is closely akin to being a tourist in the motherland. It’s hardly a taste of “real life.” So, what are the highlights of transitioning from diaspora to local? Can locals easily weed you out, even if you’re fluent in conversational Arabic? Is there any advantage to being an expat around these parts? Let’s tackle these questions together. Beirut Waterfront I grew up in southern California speaking the Lebanese dialect at home. My mother mandated it, much to our chagrin at the time. She even taught us to read and write modern standard Arabic, so you could categorize me to some extent as a native speaker. How...

Unpopular opinion: skip summer in Lebanon. Come in the autumn, habibi, when the swell of expats has departed, when airfare is reasonable, and when the weather is mild. Nobody has vouched for the beauty and splendor of Lebanon as determinedly as I have. Let’s be honest here: how many born-and-bred-abroad Lebanese diaspora do you know who ditched their first-world livelihoods to carve out an existence in our precarious motherland? I’m guessing a very few. In fact, for those of you new here, the entire premise of my blog Beirutista, established in 2012, is to project the unique and enticing nuances of Lebanon to the world. So while I’m proud to be one of Lebanon’s most genuine and heartfelt proponents, I can’t say I’m not weary with the Ministry of Tourism’s ubiquitous campaign to lure expats back to the homeland this summer. We’ve seen it on every major Instagram page mildly affiliated with Lebanon, haven’t we? “No matter what happens, see you in Lebanon.” Or how about the sponsored caro...

If you’re like me and launched a blog during the heyday of the blogosphere – back in the early 2010s, when Twitter and tweet-ups reigned on high – you’re probably feeling like a fish out of water these days. I know I am. Assailed from every direction by Tiktok accounts, followers in the tens to hundreds of thousands, fancy reels, and a lexicon I can’t even decipher, I feel like a helpless fixture from the past harkening to a day when words were once swords and readers tuned in to validate our self-appointed journalistic endeavors. I started Beirutista in the summer of 2012, drawing inspiration from the prolific profiles of BlogBaladi (Najib Mitri), Gino’s Blog (Gino Raidy), Ivy Says (Dana Khairallah), and Plus.961 (Rami Fayoume). I had recently transplanted to Lebanon only a year before, and I ardently felt a need to document my adventures in the motherland as somebody who grew up abroad yet identified strongly with Lebanese-ness. My lens was unique, and I was eager to share it with ...

For more than a decade, I wrote zealously and defiantly about the beauty of Lebanon. In fact, the primary objective behind my blog Beirutista.co, launched in 2012, was to paint a picture of truth about what life is like in this tiny Mediterranean bastion. I had recently relocated to Beirut, Lebanon, and found myself composing long letters to friends overseas who knew nothing but the biased image of Lebanon that the media rehashes time and again. Questions like “You have trees there?” and “Do people get around on camels?” pained me not only for their reductive and uninformed nature, but for how poorly this country has been portrayed throughout the years. Lebanon has been around for thousands of years. In fact, the word “Lebanon” is mentioned over 70 times in the Bible and is thought to derive from the Phoenician root lbn meaning “white,” in reference to Lebanon’s snow-capped peaks. This country seemingly has it all, bordered on the west by the moderate Mediterranean Sea, and replete wit...

You haven’t really adult-ed if you haven’t flocked to a coffee shop at least once in the past week, am I right? Admittedly, I was a little late to the game. I started sipping on caffeinated brew when my eldest was born, about six years ago. I’d place him in his stroller and lap around the mall for an hour or two, and when he drifted off to sleep, I’d slide into an armchair at Dunkin’ and order a donut, croissant-wich and coffee combo (yep, that was the ultimate trifecta.).  Fresh-brewed dark roast coffee, served piping hot with the steam blanketing my visage to deliver facial-like effects. Those few moments of uninterrupted peace formed my golden hour. I’d sit back, sip on my cup of joe, and quietly take in the scenes surrounding me. To this day, I love hanging out aimlessly at a coffee shop, merely to study the behavior of other patrons and try to deduce their craft. Here are the most common profiles I’ve encountered. My favorite indulgence at a coffee shop: donut and a cup of ...

For the past three years, I’ve been shuttling my kids to and from school. It’s always a treat to greet them as their scholastic day draws to a close and they melt into your arms, eager to head home.  Right up there after that gratifying reunion is the entertainment value you derive from your encounters with other parents milling around the school building threshold in the minutes leading up to end of day. So amusing is the range of characters you’ll meet – whether they be grandparents filling in for parents tied up at work, or parents able to carve out time to pluck up their offspring – that I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to blog about it. Here they are in no specific order. Can you relate?   1. The Haughty Mama : her favorite hand accessory is her smartphone, which she’s either holding to her lips transmitting nonstop nonsense voice notes, or scrolling furiously through her Instagram feed. Her hair is perfectly coiffed, with the essential extensions. She’s got those...