I'm in Beirut

grimmyneverdies asked: Welcome back :)

Thanks so much! I have been consumed with so much work, I can really say its nice to be back on tumblr again :D

Nakba Day

Or in English, day of the catastrophe, is what many people call May 15.This is basically the day when Israel declared independence and many Palestinians were expelled from their lands.

Last year, if you followed my blog at that time, I spent this day demonstrating at the border between Lebanon and Israel. I was there as 10 protesters were shot and over 100 hundred wounded. I should also add that the protest ended with me and thousands of other protesters running away from gunfire.

I was driving home from school and my father mentioned that there was a protest going on at the Israeli consulate. To get there we drove through Beverly Hills, passing Rodeo Drive, Sax Fifth Avenue, and Neiman Markus. This drive was a bit different than the 6 hour drive from the Mar Elias Refugee camp down to the southern border, passing through tobacco fields and unfinished, bullet-ridden,  houses.

When I arrived, there were about 30 protesters holding signs and chanting rhymes. Once again, last year I spent Nakba day with tens of thousands of Palestinian refugees, making their way to the border for the first time since they were expelled (some even seeing their land for the first time).

I stayed for around fifteen minutes, watching the protesters hold their flags and their signs, fighting for what they believed in. Occasionally a car would beep in support; I’ll be honest I really did not expect as many beeps as they got. Whenever I think of Los Angeles I think of pro-Israel to the max.

My father and I honestly expected more people at the protest, as Los Angeles is a huge city, but one cannot complain.

Anyways, I really thought this was an interesting experience. I’ll post some pictures too.

sheriennnxx asked: im from lebanon too!<3 i love it there!! im going june 7th for the whole summer!!! i love your pictures i know where they are!

Oh hello! Isn’t Lebanon fantastic. And I’m so jealous, being in Lebanon for the whole Summer? How fantastic! I’m trying to visit Lebanon this Summer, and there is a very big chance that I will be there for a few weeks. I’m so excited :D

Have a great time in Lebanon!

lebaneseproud asked: i was born in lebanon and missing it so much. i actually live in Pennsylvania and haven't been on lebanese soul in over 8 years :( enjoy it

Hello~

Oh my god I cannot imagine how hard it is to be away from your hometown for so long!

 I hope you get to visit Lebanon soon :)

towillthegoodofothers asked: I have been missing Lebanon so much and was so stoked when I came across your blog. Please never stop posting photos! Did you think Ehden was beautiful? It's my home town. I am going back in June and I can't wait to just be immersed in everything there. From their unfinished homes to the smell of pollution and the sound of traffic at night. People must think I'm crazy but I long for it. I love it. I am taking my Iphone to take photos, will that be okay? Thank you again for everything <3 xx

Hello, thank you so much!

Yes, I thought Ehden was fabulous! Sadly I was only there for a lunch trip but even the drive was fantastic. I totally know how you feel, Lebanon is a place that unless you live there and become part of the culture (even for a short time) you wont really understand why people love it so much. I am missing it too and hopefully going this summer! And I’m sure an iphone will be fine! A lot of my pictures were taken by one :). And really, thank you! I’m sorry I haven’t posted anything in a while, hopefully this will change!

everydayidream asked: i LOVE your blog, i just found it followed, u make me miss Lebanon sooo much <3

Thank you sooo much!!! I really appreciate it :) 

My First Trip to Sabra and Shatila

As I look to my left I witness a man slitting chicken’s throats and pulling off their heads. OH MY GOD. He throws them in a barrel with more headless chickens jumping around, trying to escape their inevitable death. I walk forward into the sea of people overtaking the shops, sidewalks and streets. My father and I maneuver between the busy streets and the sidewalks, walking in the middle of traffic in search for space to move forward.

Though it hasn’t rained for weeks we step in puddles of mud and enter the market. As we step further we see carts stacked with fruits and vegetables. The vegetables look the same as the ones sold in Beirut but are at least half the price. It is all in the location my father said. My father who just recently purchased a juicer takes advantage of this a buys 5 kilos of oranges (about 10 pounds).
Animal carcasses hang in the sun on hooks, giving off the smell of raw flesh. A fabric shop is directly next to the shop, displaying an array of colors that will bleached by the sun. The word crowded is an understatement.
We are in Sabra.

My father and I continue into the refugee camp, Shatila. This camp has streets wide enough for cars which creates a mess of cars, mopeds and people sprawled in the streets. Electric wires are intertwined with water pipes and cover the walls, roofs, and the sky overhead.

We pass by a small room filled with big windows which have been barred up. The inside is painted stark white and green. The walls are covered with names and pictures. This is a memorial; in this small room 500 people are buried. Five hundred. During the camp wars no one was allowed to enter and no one was allowed to exit Shatila. People trapped in the camp had to just start piling the bodies into this room. 

Shatila has seen so much death and so much sadness. There was a well known massacre, where during the dead f night people came, shot flares in the sky, and started killing the inhabitants with swords and knives (for silence). This included women, children, and old women. No one was spared. The camp wars were no better. People were trapped and starved. Some even had to resort to eat rats.

People come up to us with a warm smile. “Hello” they would say, practicing their English and welcoming the “tourists”. Every time they would be surprises as my father would respond in Arabic.

A girl a little younger than me came up in her school uniform. She puts out her hand.
    “Hello, whats your name?”
    “Iman.” She asks my father the same questions.
    “Omar.” Her friends giggle. They’ve realize we are not tourists. 
This would always happen whenever we went to Shatila. I was always surprised about how kind the people were who lived there.

fabulouspiru asked: hei. nice blog. i was in lebanon for two weeks last year and i love that country. i hope you had a great time there! :) we also visited a refugee camp in beirut called shtila, have you also been there? nice greetings from germany :>

Thank you so much! I’m glad you loved Lebanon- I am always surprised by how quickly one can fall in love with that country.

Oh you visited Shatila? Yes, I would occasionally walk over there after I was done working at Mar Elias. That place is filled with so many awful memories (the Massacre and camp wars) but at the same time it is so interesting. I actually wrote something after my fist trip there- I’ll post it!

sarahdwaynecarter asked: i'm curious , how did you come up with your URL ? I love it!

Ahaha, thanks so much! I actually have no clue to tell you the truth. When I started the blog I probably spent a week on thinking of the name and this just came to me~

mourinhoism asked: Bravo

thank you~

“Hi, Kifak, Ça Va?” (Hi, how are you, good?)

is a phrase one will hear when walking down the main street in Beirut, Lebanon. This stream of words is also very unique to this country, as the three languages (English, Arabic, and French) are spoken there. The official languages of Lebanon are Arabic and French. Though the native language of Lebanon is Arabic, after Lebanon became a French colony, people started to also be taught French in school.  During the civil war, people with enough money left to countries such as the United States, Canada, and Australia. When they came back, they and their children all spoke English. Because of this, English became more frequent in daily conversation and turned into the main language to be taught. Now, English can be considered a standard language in Lebanon. The shop signs in the wealthy areas are all in English and the menus at restaurants are in English. Even when someone walks into a coffee shop the man at the counter will say “Welcome” instead of using French or Arabic.