I HAVE FALLEN IN LOVE with my corner of Lebanon. This area where I live next to the sea, is a 15 minute walk from school, a walk to singing rehearsal, a 5 minute walk to AUB campus, and next to Hamra, the shopping district. It is everything I need.
What is there to love?
The people.
I am humbled by these kind people, who accept this obviously tall, 61+ year old American woman. This morning was a grand sunrise swim out to the floats and back, capped off with hot cardamon tea prepared over a camp stove on the beach, and a fancy boxed birthday cake topped with sparklers. Ingrid and I have been accepted by a swim club; a group of men who have been meeting every morning, going on 20 years. The group is made of swimmers of all ages; from easy old timers, to young and fast. We swim "sans Baleche", French for "without cost", and since one pays to swim at most beaches, Sans Baleche is OUR beach.
There's something about swimmers... They are the best! Once out in the water, I look up seeing white foam kicking up all around, like being in a pack of dolphins.... It is joyful being part of the pod, heading for the floats. The first ones to arrive wait for the later ones, then all are off to the next marker. We reach the floats about 500 meters off shore, and pause to look back at a miniature Beirut... so beautiful. Then it's time to strike a new course back towards the city, angling toward the tall green rooftop on the campus of "I.C." or International College. I must clarify, by this time, the main pod is far ahead. Ali, the protector, stays back with Ingrid and me, keeping an eye on us. He is a good man, and a strong swimmer.
It's amusing to watch the men tease and jostle with one another, in and out of the water. "Is your birthday next week?" I am asked playfully. We celebrated Fadi's birthday last week, and now George's this week. The cakes are fashionable by ANY standard; decorated with glazed fruit, whipped cream ribbons, sprinkles, with an edible chocolaty Happy Birthday card on top. It's obvious that these men love to celebrate! And they do so with class. "Sure!" I answer, but then admit my birthday was last February. "Then we must celebrate it next week!" they cheer. I can only laugh at these antics. The teasing doesn't stop!
Ali walks me back along the Corniche. He crosses the road with me, ever the protector. I struggle to find words to say in Arabic. Finally I sputter, "Shokrun Ali! B'heb ispar wa inta." (Thank you Ali! I like swimming with you.) His answers with a smile, lousy Arabic aside. There is a long pause while I search for words to say. But he is first, something about heading to the sea wall (Sansour), and a laugh. The guys were teasing him about swimming to the seawall; a long LONG swim that we didn't do. I couldn't follow the whole train of conversation, but each time it was repeated there was great laughter. Ali was laughing too. Ingrid and I were left scratching our heads.... Think I'll let that one slide.
Thus begins a another wonderful Saturday in Beirut.
What is there to love?
The people.
I am humbled by these kind people, who accept this obviously tall, 61+ year old American woman. This morning was a grand sunrise swim out to the floats and back, capped off with hot cardamon tea prepared over a camp stove on the beach, and a fancy boxed birthday cake topped with sparklers. Ingrid and I have been accepted by a swim club; a group of men who have been meeting every morning, going on 20 years. The group is made of swimmers of all ages; from easy old timers, to young and fast. We swim "sans Baleche", French for "without cost", and since one pays to swim at most beaches, Sans Baleche is OUR beach.
There's something about swimmers... They are the best! Once out in the water, I look up seeing white foam kicking up all around, like being in a pack of dolphins.... It is joyful being part of the pod, heading for the floats. The first ones to arrive wait for the later ones, then all are off to the next marker. We reach the floats about 500 meters off shore, and pause to look back at a miniature Beirut... so beautiful. Then it's time to strike a new course back towards the city, angling toward the tall green rooftop on the campus of "I.C." or International College. I must clarify, by this time, the main pod is far ahead. Ali, the protector, stays back with Ingrid and me, keeping an eye on us. He is a good man, and a strong swimmer.
It's amusing to watch the men tease and jostle with one another, in and out of the water. "Is your birthday next week?" I am asked playfully. We celebrated Fadi's birthday last week, and now George's this week. The cakes are fashionable by ANY standard; decorated with glazed fruit, whipped cream ribbons, sprinkles, with an edible chocolaty Happy Birthday card on top. It's obvious that these men love to celebrate! And they do so with class. "Sure!" I answer, but then admit my birthday was last February. "Then we must celebrate it next week!" they cheer. I can only laugh at these antics. The teasing doesn't stop!
Ali walks me back along the Corniche. He crosses the road with me, ever the protector. I struggle to find words to say in Arabic. Finally I sputter, "Shokrun Ali! B'heb ispar wa inta." (Thank you Ali! I like swimming with you.) His answers with a smile, lousy Arabic aside. There is a long pause while I search for words to say. But he is first, something about heading to the sea wall (Sansour), and a laugh. The guys were teasing him about swimming to the seawall; a long LONG swim that we didn't do. I couldn't follow the whole train of conversation, but each time it was repeated there was great laughter. Ali was laughing too. Ingrid and I were left scratching our heads.... Think I'll let that one slide.
Thus begins a another wonderful Saturday in Beirut.
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