Amber in Beirut
Beirut is a city that you can get to know by walking and observing; as the complicated politics are reflected in the neighborhoods, the war-fraught history is written in the streets, the stories of love and loss readable on the facades of the buildings.
Political slogans are spray painted on crumbling walls, posters of politician’s faces are plastered on pillars, and flags from fractious parties flutter in allegiance or defiance.
As you wander, the stories of Beirut will start to take shape; both its older history as well as more recent history. You’ll find Roman ruins rising out of the earth in various and unexpected places, a monument to martyrs executed by Ottomans, a building where snipers shot from during the 15-year civil war, the line that divided East and West Beirut, countless crosses and minarets layered upon the skyline, dilapidated buildings riddled with bullet holes, the place where a prime minister was assassinated, the streets where Syrian refugees now roam.
Set against this backdrop, you will also find stunning women bronzing themselves with carrot cream along the Mediterranean Sea, glitzy bars perched on glass rooftops, grungy nightclubs sunk underground like hedonistic bomb shelters, DJ’s pumping house music out of a rusted old train. You’ll find boutiques showcasing Parisian and Milanese fashions, and galleries showcasing Lebanese artwork and jewelry. You’ll find fabulous restaurants and cafes set in courtyards, in hidden alleys, in old mansions, along the corniche.
And so is the beauty and depth of Beirut, the grunge and the glamour, the resilience and the romance.
No trip to Beirut is complete without a ride in a service (pronounced “servees”)- the maddening public transportation system that involves a car honking incessantly at you as you walk down a street until you cave and tell the driver your destination, then hop in and proceed in the general direction of your destination while stopping along the way to pick up and drop off various other passengers that are going in roughly the same direction as you.
Ah, the “servees”- that long, antiquated old Mercedes that feels like it’s going to fall apart at any moment, the crumpled 2,000 lira fare that you need to hand the driver right away to avoid any negotiations later, the colorful characters who clamber in and out, the genial offer of a cigarette, the Arabic music, probably Fairuz, crackling through the archaic radio, the roundabout routes you take to get to your destination, the driver reciting poetry for you in classical Arabic, the servees honking and coughing its way along, the confusion when you are let out somewhere you don’t recognize that was deemed sufficiently close enough to your destination, the frustrating walk to get there that makes you wonder what the point even was of taking the servees when you have to walk anyways, and then finally, the next time you have the choice of taking a servees or a more sophisticated form of transportation, the inevitable feeling that yes, of course, you want to take the servees again, because how could you not?
Amber's Recommendations
AMBER STAYED AT:
Baffa House - the owners of this small hotel have poured a lot of love into it, it’s filled with quirky art, has a delicious Lebanese breakfast, and feels like home. One of my all-time favorites.
Le Gray – sleek luxury hotel in an iconic location, amazing city views from the rooftop pool
AMBER ATE AT:
Tawlet - buffet heaped with homemade food from different parts of Lebanon in a welcoming space
Onno Bistro on Badaro Street - simple, rustic setting with delicious Armenian food
Smoking Bun – snag a bar stool at this hole in the wall spot for the best, juiciest burgers
Boulevard Beirut Café – lovely setting for Lebanese breakfast overlooking the water
Kalei - hidden coffeehouse with expert brews and hipster crowd
Barbar – open 24/7, Barbar is my favorite for Lebanese fast food and kebabs; so simple but so famous
AMBER PLAYED AT:
Sursock Museum - modern and contemporary art museum housed in a breathtaking mansion
Mezyan - hidden entrance, wooden tables for food, live Arabic music for dancing, bohemian vibe
Sporting Club - no frills cement ‘beach;’ a Beirut classic. Day-time tanning, night-time DJs.
Music Hall – a dramatic open-air, live music venue/theatre/nightclub all rolled into one fabulous night out on the waterfront
Capitole - swanky rooftop lounge with stylish crowd and stunning views of downtown Beirut
Hamsa Yoga Space – light, soothing colors, a very serene space to stretch
AMBER SHOPPED AT:
Vanina - funky jewelry, bags, and vintage inspired clothes
Plan BEY - artisan publisher selling books, posters, prints and notebooks by Beirut artists
AMBER READ:
House of Stone: A Memoir of Home, Family, and a Lost Middle East by Anthony Shadid
AMBER LOVED:
The charming old buildings, the vibrant, party-loving people, and the mix of glam and grunge.
Reading in Beirut:
While in Beirut, I read House of Stone: A Memoir of Home, Family, and a Lost Middle East by Anthony Shadid. Shadid was a journalist for the Washington Post and the New York Times and I had the great honor of meeting him while I was a university student studying abroad in Beirut. I had read his articles and was in awe of the way he wrote, with humanity as the basis of his storytelling. He treated the characters in his news stories with empathy and dignity, recognizing and representing them as real people rather than economic statistics, results of poor foreign policy, or misguided fanatics as so much news coverage tends to do. Shadid was equally impressive in person, sharing stories and experiences from the field with humility and nuance. His untimely death was a real loss to the world of journalism. House of Stone is not journalism though, it is personal, it’s his memoir, the story of a Lebanese American searching for home, exploring his identity and reimagining his relationship with Lebanon. His journey is described through the process of going to his village Marjayoun and physically building a real house, stone by stone, tile by tile, with pieces of his family history woven into the story.
