When I moved to what people erroneously call "the Switzerland of the Middle East," about six months ago, I could only see the spark of the city. I was amazed by the social life, namely the number of pubs, clubs and restaurants in Gemmayze. I was impressed by the cultural activities, notably the many festivals in Ashrafieh. I was in a hurry to discover the remotest places in Lebanon, from Ehden's cedars to Jbeil's beaches and Nabatieh's museum.
I have been fond of Lebanese people because they seem cheerful, no matter what happens. War can break out, they will still party in the mountains. There can be electricity shortages, they will still smile while carrying their electrogenic lamp in the apartment. What if it prevents them from working? Well, this is the way it is in Lebanon, they would say. "Just get used to it."
After six month in this country, you begin noticing details that make you feel uncomfortable. You start understanding the meaning of living in a post-war country in the Middle East.
Socially and politically speaking, you realize that it is a luxury to have instant hot water and constant electricity. You become aware that you do not know anyone (not even someone who knows someone else) who lives in the multi-million-dollar buildings in the Downtown area, which was devasted during the Civil War (1975-1990) and then modernized, simply bec
ause almost no one can afford it.Once you understand Arabic, you realize that cab drivers always talk about the rise of fuel prices. As for the customers, they often complain about the increase of the price of basic commodities.
You can also tell that there is no real structure or organization in the society, compared to Europe or the US. For example, I just
called the Ministry of Information because I wanted to know what the documents I needed to get a press card. The man on the phone hesitated for a while and then replied that I just needed "usual documents". He added that I should stop by tomorrow and "we'll see what we can do."
A similar experience happened to me last month when I went to the Security General to apply for a student visa. I brought a letter from my university stating that I was a student and my passport. The security official complained about my letter, arguing that he did not know the person who signed it that is why I had to go to the Minister of Education to get a stamp approving the name and signature of the president of my program. I tried to be nice to him and made out stories about the fact I was in a hurry because I had classes. I also contended that I was a French female student living on my one so no one was helping. He finally empathized with me and sent me to another office to pay for the visa.
Like in many other Arab countries, verbal agreements are more meaningful than written ones. People are not used to writing down binding statements and rather negotiate verbally.
Finally and most importantly, you realize that, every time you hear the news on the radio, the taxi driver switches to music.
Though you were told that Lebanon has the most vibrant civil society and critical population, most young people are not interested in politics anymore. A lot of them would rather care about the brands they wear, the car they drive or the money they spend. Simply put, it is a lot about the way you look.
To me, life in Lebanon resembles Beckett's play "En attendant Godot" ("W
aiting for Godot"). Vladimir and Estragon, are waiting for someone named Godot but he never shows up. Nothing real happens during the play. The two characters are just waiting for something to happen.During my stay in Lebanon, I have felt that, behind people's laughter and smiles, there is a deep malaise. People look happy because this is the only thing they can do to improve their daily lives. The economic situation is terrible. The political atmosphere is tensed. Social life is what remains.
A few days ago, I was attending my Arabic tutorial with my professor at the university. Another teacher entered the classroom and my professor asked her: "how is everything?"
"We are living" (3ayshin) answered the second one, with a big smile.
Recently, Lebanon went through a political crisis. The govern
ment was overthrown when 11 ministers resigned. There were a few demonstrations. In the north of the city, in Tripoli, people burned tires. Some roads were closed. There were checkpoints from one city to the other as well as inside several cities.Today, life goes on. Although the political pandemonium persists, Lebanese went back to work and the pubs are getting more crowded.
As a matter of fact, life in Lebanon would rather resemble Gionot's "Un roi sans divertissement" ("A king without entertainment"). The main idea of this book is that people keep entertaining themselves because if they stop for awhile, they will have to think about their lives and soon discover the existence's vacuity.
Soon, you realized how hard it is to wake up and change things and how insignificant people are when facing powerful governments in Arab societies.
Materialism, yes. Superficiality, maybe. But political apathy is probably not the problem among Lebanese youth. How many times have we seen the youth from one camp or another take to the street on an order. Or perhaps a better example... if you've ever watched university elections, you'll notice a voter turnout of close to 100%, with the students all wearing the familiar colors... those of traditional parties. Perhaps a touch of political apathy could do us some good actually. Good luck on the six month test.
ReplyDeleteActually, more than political apathy, the problem is the inability to affect the political agenda. There are often demonstrations in Lebanon (cf. against sectarianism), but in the end, how does it impact to politics?
ReplyDelete