There's no Escape

It’s ridiculous isn’t it?

Living in Beirut is like living in those Nintendo consoles we had when we were kids: in 2D. Seriously. We make goldfishes in their bowls look like wildlife adventurers compared to us.

We’ve all heard the slogans about Lebanon: 10452km² and all that. But in reality, the vast majority of us could go through an entire year living our lives within a 10km² radius.

 Look at me for example. I live a couple of minutes away from a mall, 5 minutes away from work, a maximum of 4 minutes away from my best friends and family, 3 minutes away from the gym (not that I use it mind), 6 minutes away from my nutritionist, 2 minutes away from a shrink some of my friends see (just in case) and 6 minutes away from the best bar and restaurant street in Beirut. (That’s, of course, not considering the traffic. Multiply by 10 all those figures in normal times).

A walk on the wild side for me is going to my massage place of choice that’s 9m away.

Once in a blue moon, at the start of a romantic relationship, I go to Byblos. And feel jet lagged by the time I get home…

Apart from that, 95% of my life is spent in my own little cocoon.

I’m in no way alone in this. I got a mate who lives in Hamra who, literally, calls his travel agent when he needs to leave the area. I’m still not sure, to this day, whether he realizes he doesn’t need a visa to come to Achrafieh.

So we live our lives in a tiny area of the country. It does have its plus points, I won’t lie. Your life is unbelievably easy for a start. And, when you get back from holiday and bump into people you know all the time, you feel like a celebrity for the first week.

I’m friends with an English professional footballer who’s played for one of the biggest clubs in Europe, won a lot of trophies, is on TV every week, has appeared in 2 world cups- but in Beirut, when we’re together, I’m recognized a lot more than he is.

It’s extremely gratifying.

And I’m nothing special. A lot more people have a lot more notoriety than me and bump into more people they know. In celeb terms I’d be more Danni than Kylie Minogue…

Live like we do and after a certain time, you feel like Jim Carrey in the Truman Show. You go the same places, see the same faces, have the same conversations, struggle to meet new people you don’t know and eat the same foods. It’s claustrophobic to say the least. There are people in jail cells that have more variety than we do.

And, of course, you do all that accompanied.

Because, the worst thing you can do in Beirut, is do something alone. It’s just not done you see. Going to a coffee place by yourself, grabbing lunch accompanied solely by a book or going to the movies en solitaire is NOT something you feel comfortable doing.

There are lots of reasons for this. First of all, you won’t be alone. You’ll bump into someone you know. This is a given. Wherever you go, there’ll be some guy there you haven’t seen since you wore braces. Second of all, you’re made to feel like a sad social case. People look at you and stare. You can read what they’re thinking too: “What an absolute loser”. You know this, because that’s exactly what you think when you see someone eating alone.

Not even the cinema offers sanctuary. I once went to the movies by myself. I arranged it with almost military precision. I wanted to see a movie playing only in Sodeco and Abraj. After 2 seconds of deliberation, I went for the more remote option- Abraj. Sodeco was way too close to home and thus, far too risky.

I deliberated whether to buy 2 tickets from the teller, but took a big breath and bought just the one. I can’t recall if I spoke French to give the impression I was a foreigner who’d just landed in Lebanon, but it’s possible. Still, I was happy with myself so far. I hadn’t bumped into anyone I knew and had successfully bought a ticket without feeling like a social leper.

I quickly made my way to the screen. Then, the usher took my ticket, stared at me, stared at it, stared back at me and asked “Alone?” I looked at the ground and nodded my head. I entered the theater with shame etched on my face, and disdain etched on the teller’s.

Still, that couple of hours alone were bliss. Dark theater surrounded by no one, completely alone, far away from my 10km² nation. I loved the anonymity the cinema provided and vowed to come back alone again.

Until the movie ended and the lights go on and I see my uncle staring at me.

I tried my best, chose the earliest possible séance, a remote theater and an artistic movie- and I still bump into someone I know. And a family member at that. What a joke.

When I can’t take the claustrophobic nature of Beirut life I travel to the UK and revel in being an absolute nobody. I roam the streets of London by myself with the freedom of a man just released from Death Row.  I turn down lunch dates with friends so I can eat alone. I do weird stuff, like read books on the tube. And no one knows who I am or asks why I’m by myself- they couldn’t care less. I’m about as significant to them as an ant.

But even the UK’s not full proof. During the dying embers of one night a couple of years ago, I went to a strip club with a couple of friends- and was greeted by a table full of Lebanese people I know, which included my bloody neighbor.

When you can’t even get a lap dance at 3am in a dingy London strip club while retaining your anonymity, then you truly know the game is up.

There’s no escape.

Comments

[your cous]

it is all in the mind...who cares being alone, seen alone or playing football alone !