I've had just enough time to... take a walk down busy Beirut.
The broken down bench in Beirut where I ate my lunch.
If I were
to ask you, your personal experience of the friendliest city in the world; each
of you may give me a different reply. Some answers may seem obvious as top
contenders. Some you may be mildly surprised at, others you may disagree as you
may have a bad experience there. But would you have expected someone to say
present day Beirut? Of all the cities I have visited from US to Europe to Asia,
in my personal experience Beirut top the list. It is all based on a single day,
alone with nothing to do; to pre-empt you from arguing against my choice. :D
The delicious Hawa chicken and pickled vegetable that was my lunch.
It was a
Friday. I had a late afternoon flight and I’m not going to sit in my room
reading a book or to watch TV until it is time to go. Immediately after
breakfast, I put on the day’s essentials in my backpack and went for a long
walk. Nowhere in particular, just to walk the street as far as I could go and
back in time for my flight. Along the way, to my delight I came across a small
nondescript Lebanese bakery.
I stood
outside and snapped a few shots when the matronly proprietress with a smile as
wide as her arms agitatedly waved me inside to do my shooting. That is in “Part
2 – The Man From Syria”. Would not blame you if you think my impression of
Beirut’s hospitality is from that pleasant feeling as warm as the oven’s fire.
But that was not all. After the coffee as thick and black as night, and
succulent oven fresh bread with the aroma of cheese and thyme, I continued my
walk as far as I could go before I think I should double back.
The warm receptions from the drivers on the road.
I bought a
box of their local fast food – Hawa Fried Chicken that is served together with
thick potato slices, cheese dips and pickled vegetable with sign language and
walked back to the hotel on the other side of the road. I came across a broken
metal bench under the shade of a giant tree and thought that would be a good
place to rest my weary feet and eat my chicken. There I was, a Chinese
gentleman sitting cross-legs on a broken bench without support, happily biting
into the drumstick looking at the snared traffic, taking in the novelty of the
situation.
They were joking with me in a language I could not understand.
But I did
not expect the reactions. A car honk jolted me; the driver shouted in a strange
language I could not understand. But I understood the smile and the wave and I
waved back. I thought that must be an isolated incident. But then at almost
regular intervals, drivers noticed me and some of them greeted me loudly with
smiles or waves or thumb ups. Some took the trouble to wind down the window. A
father and son in a truck offered me a lift. Some was joking with me though
they know I could not understand a single word they said and played hide and
seek with my camera. In nowhere in the
world had I ever triggered anything as remotely close as this type of reaction.
I did not do much that morning in Beirut but it was one of the most memorable
days of my life.
And offered to take me along with them...
When I
returned to the hotel, I looked at all those things I’ve bought or brought
along with me which I did not want to bring back home. When the cleaning lady
came, I gave them all to her. I hate throwing things away and was happy to have
less to carry. There was a ring on the door. The cleaning lady came and gave me
something of her own. I protested but she tried to tell me it is nothing and I
will make her happy to accept it. And she gave me a hug. And we took a photo
off the reflection from the mirror. I don’t know about your experiences, but for
me, no other city even come close to Beirut as the friendliest city I ever
encountered.
