Beirut: Walking to the beachfront

A postcard of the black and white Lighthouse as it was in 1942

Although I am spoiled for sun and some heavenly swimming pools and beach spots in Dubai, I still couldn’t wait to walk down to Beirut’s beachfront last week and pay homage to the Mediterranean.

The Mediterranean has been a part of my life since childhood. I missed it immeasurably during the 20-odd years I spent in London. The closest I got to the sea then was the River Thames, which I could pick out from my balcony in Chelsea’s Cheyne Place.

The Lighthouse now dwarfed by construction

I was curious to view what Wikipedia writes about this magical sea. It describes the Mediterranean as one “around which some of the most ancient human civilizations were arranged. it has had a major influence on the history and ways of life of these cultures. It provided a way of trade, colonization and war, and was the basis of life (via fishing and gathering other seafood) for numerous communities throughout the ages.”

I grew up near the Mediterranean in Tunisia and my mom, Vicky, always sent us to the beach to swim, absorb Vitamin D (the sun vitamin) and bury ourselves in the warm sand for added winter protection. Nothing changed much when we relocated to Beirut. Even during the civil war, I hardly stopped going to the beach on an almost daily basis throughout the year. That’s why being far from the Mediterranean was one of the most difficult aspects of my years in London.

The Mediterranean is green, often infested with jellyfish, but I still found its waters fresh and salty and invigorating. Luckily, it is within walking distance from where I am currently staying in Beirut and so I made my way down to the Corniche, Beirut’s waterfront boulevard, from Sadat Street in Hamra (see "Beirut: Walking in Hamra" post, Nov. 12). It’s downhill all the way and Beirut is enjoying an unusually hot November. But the route is strewn with new buildings -- so much so the city’s first land Lighthouse is hardly visible anymore.

Possibly built in the 1940s and originally run by the Shebil family, this 24-meter high Lighthouse is a landmark with its black and white horizontal bands. It outlasted colonial rule and the civil war, but has been beaten and drowned by the construction boom in the Lebanese capital.

A new automated Lighthouse replaced it at sea level when it ended its working life in 2003. The new automated 52-meter Lighthouse beams every 10 seconds and an Israeli air raid damaged its lantern and top in July 2006.

Rides at Beirut's Luna Park

Strolling down to the coastline, I caught my first glimpse of the glimmering sea. But before getting there, I popped in to Madinat al-Malahi, Beirut’s Luna Park. The Ferris wheel looked smaller and the rides too, but their magic was still there and not lost on the many children enjoying the Sunday morning fun.

Further along the Corniche, sellers were preparing for the Sunday rush for falafel and ice cream. Down the road, the Permanent Chinese Exhibition store, where you find everything and anything, is already well stocked for Christmas.

The glimmering Mediterranean

I finally got to the rocky beach where I have been a habitué since god knows when. As soon as I paid the entrance fee of LL 22,000 (or $14.66), I felt I was back to my natural habitat. The place has hardly changed over the years and I was ecstatic to meet familiar faces and friends I hadn’t seen in 20 years.

I first treated myself to a morning coffee (LL 4,000 or $ 2.65) to kick start the day. Once I felt I was in my surroundings, I ordered my preferred Lebanese beer – Almaza (LL 5,000 or $3.33) -- which came with a little bag of peanuts.

It was exhilarating to reconnect with the cool waters of the Mediterranean, its color, its taste and its temperate waves. Fishermen were all around, migrating birds winging by and planes flying overhead to Rafic Hariri Airport.

The planes passing overhead reminded me that I would be flying back home to Dubai before long. I hurriedly dispelled the thought to continue enjoying my holiday in Beirut, especially that my sister Asma joined me last week.

Keep your walking shoes on! I will take you around the Armenian neighborhood of Burj Hammoud and the southern port city of Sidon next.

(Click here to see the pictures of the walk down to the beachfront)

Bahibak ya Libnan

The first Lebanese flag signed by the seven MPs

A chain of circumstances led me to the mountain village of Bshamoun, some 17 kilometers from Beirut, on the eve of Lebanon’s 67th Independence Day

Independence House shaded  by the 160-year-old oak tree

I had the privilege to be received in the house where Lebanon’s Independence was declared on November 22, 1943, by freeing the country from a 23-year-old French Mandate.

It all started when I was talking to my friend Bahaa Fakhreddeen earlier this week. In our conversation, I asked him if he lived far from Beirut’s Hamra area. He surprised me when he said he comes from Ain Anoub, a village in the Aley region, and still lives there. I was taken aback because my mom, Vicky, née Abu Fadel, is from Ain Anoub! Bahaa promised he would take me up to the village sometime during my current holiday in Beirut. And sure enough, he called on Thursday to say that a group of us would head there on Sunday (November 21).

Another common friend I met on Twitter, Jennifer Haddad, called on Saturday to say we would set off to Sidon for breakfast and then head to Ain Anoub to visit Bahaa. The Sidon breakfast and walk around the southern port city will feature in another post.

It was thus in the early afternoon that we arrived at Bahaa’s place, in Vicky’s village, on the eve of Independence Day.

Bahaa took us around Ain Anoub, which is 450 meters above sea level, through narrow and steep little streets, bounded on both sides by olive trees, pine (snoubar) trees, oak (sindyan) trees, pomegranate trees and many more. The whole mountain village, which overlooks Beirut, is covered in oaks and pines and the weather was so much cooler than Beirut and Sidon.

We visited the former residence of the Arslan family (the Medan), and the Bourkit al Medan, a pond that still waters the village fields and St. Georges (Mar Jeries) Church, which is being renovated.

We then headed to Bshamoun, on the spur of the moment, in the search for Independence House.

Jihad, Jennifer and Bahaa in front of  Independence House

The historic stone-built house built in 1890 belonged to the late Sheikh Hussein Halabi, who joined in the events that took place there 67 years ago. The house has three rooms, the more sizable of which, dubbed the serail, gives on a terrace shaded by a 160-year-old oak tree.

Independence House, now an official tourist site, will predictably be declared a conservation building. It is currently occupied and kept by Sheikh Hussein’s grandson, Jihad Halabi, who received us with open arms and was all too happy to share the stories of that momentous point in time.

It is in 1918, on the close of World War I, that France established control over Lebanon by virtue of a League of Nations Mandate.

Jihad recalled how in 1943, the country’s leaders and ministers held a national convention and drew up a National Pact de facto abolishing the Mandate. It stated that:

-- Lebanon is an independent country with an Arab facet

-- Lebanon is to be lead by neither East nor West

-- No to Colonialism

-- Religious sects are to be represented in ministries and all governmental posts

-- The Lebanese government should bring under its control customs, railways and the Regie (tobacco monopoly), and

-- The Lebanese government should supervise and control its borders.

On November 10, 1943, the French hit back by arresting then president Beshara el-Khoury, premier Riad el-Solh, ministers Camille Chamoun, Adel Osseiran and Selim Takla and Tripoli MP Abdelhamid Karami. The French moved their political prisoners to Rashaya Fort in the Bekaa. Ministers Emir Majid Arslan andHabib Abi-Shahla and House speaker Sabri Hamadeh escaped arrest because they were not at home that night. The arrests mobilized Christian and Moslem public opinion, triggered street protests against the Mandate, led to an international outcry demanding the Lebanese leaders' release.

The living room decorated with historic photos and firearms

On 11 November 1943, Arslan and Abi-Shahla created the “Government of Free Lebanon” with Abi-Shahla as prime minister and Arslan as head of the National Guard. Their headquarters were in Bshamoun. Jihad says Emir Majid organized an armed rebellion ready to fight the French troops while riots raged across the country. Seven MPs – speaker Hamadeh, Saeb Salam, Saadi el-Munla, Henry Pharaon, Rashid Beydoun, Mohammed el-Fadl and Maroun Kenaan -- met in secret and drew and signed on a new flag that they handed over to the cabinet of Bshamoun.

Jihad also recounts how MP Pharaon first drew this flag at the home of MP Salam’s home in Musaitbeh.

Historic photo of Emir Majid Arslan kneeling and kissing the flag

 The riots, strikes, Arslan’s armed rebellion and the intervention of Arab and Western states, chiefly Britain, led to the political prisoners’ release on 21 November 1943. Once set free, they drove to Bshamoun to thank the rebels before continuing to Beirut. It is in Bshamoun that they sang the Lebanese National Anthem and that Arslan knelt in front of the Lebanese flag and kissed it. This flag still exists in Halabi’s home and takes place of pride in Independence House -- though not properly preserved, remarks Jihad. But he is delighted the first government document to be issued still hangs on his wall.

Lebanon was proclaimed an independent state on November 22, 1943.

After taking leave from the Halabi family, keepers of Independence House, we headed back to Ain Anoub for coffee at Bahaa’s place. There, we also viewed his father’s rooftop garden and savored his mother’s traditional Eid sweets (she even filled a Tupperware for me to take home!).

Thank you Bahaa and Jennifer for giving me such a captivating treat. Happy Independence Day everyone!

(You can join me on my visit to Independence House and Ain Anoub by viewing the pictures here. And I will leave you with Fairouz’s Bahibak ya Libnan that you might enjoy listening to while reading the post by going to this link)

Beirut's Souk el Tayeb

Saturday morning is Souk el Tayeb Day in Beirut. Souk el Tayeb refers to the Lebanese capital’s first farmers’ market, which I finally visited this week.

There’s no one better to show you around this open-air market than my friend Suha Farah, founder and owner of the IF Boutiques in Beirut and New York. Suha has been a regular at Souk el Tayeb since it launched six years ago. She knows everyone there and it’s where she shops whenever she is in Beirut.

Tayeb in Arabic means good -- as in taste and character. The Souk offers fresh, seasonal produce and goods from Lebanese farmers, artisans and producers. It’s a celebration of Lebanon’s culinary traditions and has been introducing organic and environmental awareness.

Kamal Mouzawak and Christine Cudsi founded Souk el Tayeb. Kamal is a gastronomy editor and author of a glossary of gourmet products and dishes published in “A Complete Insider’s Guide to Lebanon” (by Cherine Yazbeck and Carole Corm, Souk el Tayeb Editors, 2008).

The market has developed into an organization now working nationally and internationally to promote and preserve Lebanese foods and culinary traditions, rural heritage and a natural environment.

Souk el Tayeb Day is held at the Beirut International Exhibition and Leisure Center (BIEL) parking lot. BIEL was built in the heart of downtown Beirut on reclaimed land. It launched in November 2001 and covers 82,000 square meters of multifunctional areas where exhibition, concert and conference halls and restaurants are positioned on the waterfront.

Market manager Mira Makhlouta was on-site when I visited Souk el Tayeb last Saturday (November 13). She said the market is organized and run by an NGO cooperative that embraces Lebanon's regions, religions and sects.

The Abu Rabih stand with organic produce from Binine in Akkar

To qualify for a Souk el Tayeb spot, you have to be a local farmer, artisan or producer and your stock has to be homemade. The association’s goals go beyond the Saturday market. Among them is to:

- create a “platform” that brings together people of different regions and beliefs;

- support small-scale farmers and producers and introduce environment-friendly practices;

- encourage organic, eco-friendly produce and practices to improve the quality of food, life and health;

- contribute to local community development initiatives;

- raise alertness and promote the experience of green living through public awareness campaigns.

Organic peppers

Participants are charged $25 a table, Ms Makhlouta explained, and farmers and producers who sell organic goods have to be certified “organic” through two companies – namely, IMC and Liban Cert.

While walking around the Souk which opens from 9 a.m. to 2 p.m., I saw tables from Bibnine in Akkar; Zawtar in the South; Baabda, Warhanieh, Joun, Ghedras, Debbiyeh, Zalka in Mount Lebanon; Hamra and Mousseitbeh in Beirut; and Wata Sfarta in the North.

Abu Brahim from Rachaya, Jebel el Sheikh

I also caught site of many individual cooks and producers such as Sona Tikidjian with Armenian Cuisine as well as Therese Sarkis, Wahd and Maysoun Nasreddine and Hadi El Solh. Abu Brahim (Hussein Abu Mansour), from Rachaya in Jebel el Sheikh, was in traditional Druze attire and was helped at his stand by his wife and daughters.

Youmna Jazzar Medlej

I was pleasantly surprised to see a table covered with books by my friend Joumana Medlej (aka @cedarseed on Twitter), the comic author, illustrator, graphic designer, writer, globetrotter, photographer, martial artist and blogger. I first noticed Joumana’s “Malaak, Angel of Peace” books and saw the whole table covered with her other publications as well as those she co-authors with her mother, Youmna Jazzar Medlej. I went over to the lady manning the stand to enquire further, as Joumana was on her way back from a trip to Japan, and was delighted to meet Youmna in person. And after much hugs and kisses, I was fortunate to be offered a “Malaak” coffee mug.

Making fresh saj manaeesh

While Suha was busy trying to fill her weekly basket, I was going round and round the marketplace, each time discovering something new to admire, taste or smell. There were green vegetables (some of them very unusual), tomatoes (too expensive now in Beirut), fresh aromatic herbs, pulses, pomegranate kibbeh, freshly squeezed carrot juice, a honey distiller, Lebanese pastries, fruits, olives, traditional pickled vegetables, labneh, manaeesh made on saj and much more. All the farmers are friendly and eager for you to taste their produce.

Everyone seemed to know everyone else at the Souk, whether customers or farmers. It is family friendly and children can wander around safely while their parents shop and chat to friends. Parking is easy and costs LL 3,000 ($2).

Homemade pickled cheese, labneh, cucumbers and vegetables

When Suha finished her shopping, it was all too soon time to leave and head to the beach. But I’ll be back next Saturday. Meantime, you can walk around Souk el Tayeb with me by clicking on the pictures here.