Seven Things You’ll Actually Miss When You Leave Lebanon
Anger and disappointment — it’s everywhere. From our blog posts to our five minutes conversations with taxi drivers, there is always a frustrated, exponentially-growing-with-every-day’s-news anger clotted in our constantly overturning stomachs.
Therefore, it comes as no surprise that many people are leaving the country – and honestly, could we really blame anyone? But as someone who recently left the country (don’t worry it was only temporary, I’m on my way back), I couldn’t help but noticed there are some key things you’re likely to miss when you leave Lebanon. Take a look:
1. The Ubiquity of WhatsApp (Photo via mashable.com)
If you thought for a second that wherever you’re traveling to will enable you to book appointments at the salon, order a taxi, or get some man’ousheh delivered via WhatsApp, then you are sorely mistaken, my friend. There is probably no other place in the world (okay, this might be a slight exaggeration) that enables you to get almost whatever you want through WhatsApp.
Now, it should be mentioned that this might be a consequence of Alfa and MTC’s overpriced phone calls, but hey, this is probably one of the greatest achievements our country has offered in recent history.
Save the bearded hipsters that refuse to shower because it’s too mainstream, most Lebanese people care about hygiene. A lot. Of course, it’s all thanks to Mama, who taught us that “cleanliness comes next to godliness”.
Additionally, most of our bathrooms and homes are spotlessly clean. In fact, it is rare to enter a bathroom in a restaurant or in a house and find it not smelling of jasmine flowers or, even in the worst case scenario, “saboon baladeh”.
3a’bel our streets were also this clean, though, which – allow me to digress for a second – speaks to how Lebanese tend to care more about themselves than their country.
Oh, this one here is a life-saver. Although, usually, none of the languages are “berfectly sboken,” it’s still better than nothing. Most countries speak only one language – but in Lebanon, if you don’t speak Arabic and you’re lost, you will still find your way – and if you have anything resembling lumps on your chest and plaits on your head? Hallelujah, everyone will want to help.
Akh. This irreplaceable baby will be the one you’ll miss the most when you decide to pack your bags and leave behind. You will only appreciate how beautiful, how luscious, how delicious and lip-smacking the gigantic tawouk sandwiches, the mezze, and the farroujes with extra toum are when you leave. So, before your departure, find yourself some James Blunts tunes and sing, quietly and sadly, “Goodbye my lover, goodbye my friend” and board your flight with a heavy heart.
Recently, I actually hallucinated that I was walking past a ‘foron.’ I could smell that sweet, sweet zaatar and could practically see the manakeesh going into the oven. Oh man, what I wouldn’t give for the deliciously scrumptious 3ajeene spread with some zaatar (or kishek/cheese, whatever floats your boat, I don’t discriminate). I don’t understand why non-Arabs find it so mind-bogglingly hard to make a decent man’oushe. I just don’t. My mom’s ‘3arayes’ are not going to cut it much longer. Something has to change.
Where else can you get an argileh delivered to your doorstep? A friend of mine once got a cup of lemonade delivered to her house so she could properly offer to ‘tdayefne.’ My cup of morning coffee is delivered; it arrives at 8 o’clock sharp every day, just as I’m getting out of bed. Even pharmacies deliver! What is this insanity!
Except for a month or two in the summer, Beirut has perfect weather. Year round it never gets too cold or too hot. Here in New York, the temperature dropped to 10 degrees and a little gust of wind came around and all of a sudden everyone turned into a bundled up eskimo and a national weather emergency was declared. HA! You don’t know what cold is until you’ve been caught in a blizzard and a temperature of AT LEAST 10 degrees below freezing. Some will argue that the summers are gruesome, but really, it’s not even that hot! Just a little humid. And it’s for a month max! The weather in Lebanon is a blessing. Never forget it.
You miss your family beyond words. A sentimental movie about family makes you sob like a baby. It stings when you’re mom tries to describe the new dress she bought over the phone. It’s absolutely heart-wrenching to be away from family. Everyone always encourages you to grasp whatever chance you have to leave, but who would want to leave their families? Their mothers and fathers, brothers, sisters, husbands, wives, children and friends? Who would want to miss out on Teta’s Sunday gatherings in the mountains? Who would want to miss their child’s first birthday? Their best friend’s wedding? And their mothers embrace? Saying goodbye is just about the hardest thing, even if you’re heading towards a better future. Take care of your country, you only have one, and everyone you love is in it.
