Beirutista

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 there’s anything that annoys me most, it’s the absence of stepping up and advocating for children. Ever since I became a mother, my awareness of the fragility and defenselessness of kids in general has heightened exponentially. I cannot stand by and see adults being careless or reckless around children. I will not stand by silently if I see children’s needs and rights being violated. And hence this written piece, which I hope will circulate in good faith to enlighten all those who read it.   Car Safety Children ages 12 and under belong in the backseat. This means no child seated up front in the passenger seat. And certainly no child nestled in the lap of the driver or the front passenger. I can’t believe I have to say this, but if you value your child’s life, seat him/her in the back. If your vehicle was to be involved in a collision, and your underage child was seated upfront, his/her body would not be able to withstand the impact of the deployed airbags. It could cause p...

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 ...

Last weekend, I found myself visiting two different retailers with which I’d previously been unfamiliar. We received housewarming gifts that I wished to exchange for something of more utility, and after being repeatedly reassured that swapping would be effortless, I embarked on said mission. The first retailer has two branches: one in Jdeideh, north of Beirut, and another in Ballouneh, in the Ajaltoun district. The gift was purchased in Ballouneh, and I was going to attempt the exchange in Jdeideh, which is considerably closer to our home. I entered the shop and presented the item – a half dozen set of tumblers – to the two ladies seated behind the cashier desk. Almost instantly I was greeted with, “that’s an old item.” “Excuse me? This was purchased 24 hours ago from your other location,” I retorted. As though we were duking it out on a tennis court, the cashier swiftly shot back that she had to check whether they even carried this item in Jdeideh, because if they did not, she wou...

I'm largely annoyed by the so-called criticism surrounding "Emily in Paris." If you've watched the series on Netflix, whose first season aired in the thick of the pandemic in 2020, you discovered how the show immerses its viewers in the magic and charm of Paris where the entire show is filmed. Emily, played by actress Lily Collins, is a marketing executive who has been sent by her Chicago-based company for a year of international experience at its subsidiary in the French capital. There she strives to fit in with her colleagues and newfound friends, all while grappling with a new language and culture she knows relatively nothing about. In the media, there is an onslaught of negative feedback by Parisian viewers who claim the culture captured on the show is not rooted in reality. The over-the-top fashion Emily sports, the unrealistic spaciousness of Emily's apartment, the minimal hours employees keep at work, the great divide in what is uttered and what is meant....

I held off writing this piece because I wanted a little whiff of 2022 before hastening to assign any labels or meaningless wishes to the new year. It's the same song and dance every end of year, isn’t it? The year comes to a close, and we almost too giddily sweep it out, as though it should be discarded with the rubbish in our dustbins. Then we proceed to usher in the coming year, imploring it to "treat us well," or to "behave." Because, you know, that personification boosts our chances of negotiating assured success. If I'm being honest, 2020 and 2021 just blended into each other, like one indistinguishable continuum. In fact, my perception of time over those two years is very wishy-washy. In my mind, 2019 still seems like last year, and everything that's transpired since fell into the span of one seemingly endless, hopeless, wretched annum.  I attribute it to simply how bizarre this epoch of the pandemic has been. Covid's hold over the world, ove...

I'm certainly no famed columnist, but I'm framing this blog post as such. Lately, a number of my readers in the diaspora have been probing me in their attempt to make sense of the situation in Lebanon. It's no enigma that the media (and social media to boot) highlight a narrow view of present-day life in Lebanon, while the reality is often starkly different. Here I endeavor to illuminate how things are on the ground, and how our lives have genuinely been impacted by the various crises gripping the country. Dear Beirutista, I just want to understand how you -- and the folks living in Lebanon -- are coping during these austere times. Having lived there for years with my husband, we tried to hold out hope for months into the revolution, but after the August 4 [2020] explosions, we deemed the situation too dangerous and resettled in the United States. I know it’s so stifling with the banks stealing everyone’s savings. I find it weird that no one seems to be mentioning the real ...