(ATL-DCA-ATL-DXB-DOH-BEY-DOH-DXB-LHR-JFK-LGA-ATL)
In what has now turned into a real life comedy, starring me in the main role, I think it is opportune for me to write a survival guide; ‘How to survive at an airport if you don’t have a visa to get out or a flight to take you where you belong’
Those aware of my escapades may know that I flew to Lebanon from Atlanta to catch a concert. That trip had been crazy enough in its own right and didn’t need any more excitement. It wasn’t to be.
For those lucky ones holding a US or UK passport, you will not understand my pain, but for those stuck with one of those passports that requires you to obtain a visa for every country you travel to, will surely feel for me, or at least be amused at my expense.
Prior to the trip, I had spent ample money and effort and lost a lot of sleep in obtaining my Lebanese visa. I had to even make a mad dash flight to DC and back to collect my passport from the consulate and be back in time for my onward connections to the Middle East.
So here was my itinerary: Atlanta to Dubai as a standby passenger on Delta (Space available, scum of the earth passenger. I don’t care I get to fly for free), Confirmed flight from Dubai to Doha (In Qatar) and another flight from Doha to Beirut on Qatar Airways. I managed to make it there, through back and forth time zones and multiple flights. UAE is 9 hours ahead, Doha is 8 hours ahead and Lebanon is 7 hours ahead of EST. The trip back was the more entertaining kind.
After an entire night of bouncing and vigorously shaking my body in what was some form of dance at the concert, I had to come to my room, shower and head to the airport. The first challenge was convincing Qatar airways to let me board my flight since I didn’t have any confirmed flight from Dubai onwards (I was a standby passenger on Delta remember). After pleading with them and telling them that I would stay at the airport, they let me go. (Sweet chaps). In a half daze, through 2 bus transfers at Doha airport, 2 flights, I reached Dubai airport, soon to be my home for 30 hours.
I arrive at the gate for the Delta flight and turns out standby passengers are not getting on today. The weight limit has been reached (Cargo going back to the US) and they can’t take passengers even though there are seats. I have already managed to leave my passport folder in one of the bathrooms by now. A very nice Indian airport worker sees me frantically running where I think I left it and calls me out saying, “Passport. Indian passport. I have it, I look for you.” I thank the man, pat his shoulder and tell him I hope to be getting out soon. Once I get over the disappointment of not getting on the flight, I try to see if I can get a visa to get into the country. The scary officials in the immigration office say I must have a confirmed flight to get a visa and I must talk to my airline to give it to me in writing. (As if that’s happening I think to myself). At this point I am starting to feel like Tom Hanks in the terminal; No India didn’t go off the map suddenly, but here I am in limbo, stuck.
After much deliberation I decide to check into the Dubai international airport hotel, built right inside the terminal, between gates 114 and 117. The room plush, roomy, comfortable and with a delightful bed, flat screen tv and all the amenities of a regular hotel was way more than I could have dreamed of in this dazed state of mine. My window overlooked the transfer desks I was at a few hours ago when I first landed. It was weird being in a hotel room at the airport. As I chuckled at the thought of going down to the duty free to get chocolate for my craving, I passed out.
I am awoken to the smell of fresh jet fuel and the sound off, “Malaysian Airlines Flight 2323 to Kuala Lumpur will board at gate 121.” No just kidding, the room was pretty sound proof. I awoke after 13 hours. Wow I hadn’t slept that much in years, I must have been exhausted. Fresh and more optimistic this time around, I went about my day, checking my emails, brushing my teeth etc. After getting ready, I went down again and back to the transfer desk to be greeted by the same girl who was more optimistic this time. “I am 99% sure you will get it today sir.” Oh how I wish she was right. I come back to my room to a phone call. “It’s 7pm sir, this is your wake up call. Your flight is at 11:20pm.” Wow I could get used to this life I thought. Robed in just the bath robe, I made myself a cup of coffee, started nibbling on the complimentary grapes and sat down on the work desk to do some work. Oh it felt beautiful. Around 9:30 pm, optimistic, hopeful and ready to work all the way back to Atlanta, I arrived at gate 113 again. I saw the same folks from the day before, performing the same pre-flight tasks. Around 10, sure I that I will get on time around, I went up to the desk for a cursory question, “What’s the standby situation?” Recognizing me from the night before the woman at the counter said, “Bad sir.” My heart sinks yet again. I can’t stay here any longer. I have already rescheduled all my commitments from Monday, I can’t do that again. Once it is evident that there is no way I am getting on (They are even removing confirmed passengers), I decide that I need to get back to the US one way or the other. I start looking at the departure screen. Delta isn’t taking me back…
The credit card is swiped for a one way flight to London Heathrow at 2:20 am on British Airways. At this point nothing else matters, I just want to get out of here. How thankful I am to American Express for raising my credit limit just a few days ago. This trip has cost me way too much money by now. I am annoyed, irritated, upset, frustrated and all the negative emotions rolled into one. But instead I laugh out loud. Is this really happening?
I hold with me a confirmed ticket to London now and by the time this is published I will hopefully be back in the US.
If one were to be stuck anywhere, I think Dubai airport would make a great place. There is shopping, there are tons of food options, there are business centers, hotels, anything you might need if you’re stranded. Whilst here, I made some friends I think. I met my friend again who had retrieved my passport a day ago. He asked, “Sir Hi, still here?” I laughed and told him not for any longer hopefully. I swear he said bye to me like he was going to see me again very soon. Oh friend.
Then there was Jamaica, the girl at the hotel reception. She was probably from the Philippines. She was sweet and kind and always smiled at me. She had the ‘still here look’ when I went back to the hotel to get some free internet after I didn’t get the flight for days in a row. She must have known since she was the one who gave me wake up call.
Then there were the others, the girl at the Delta ticket desk, the woman at the Delta gate, the Delta agents who told me I wasn’t getting on, the Mcdonald’s crew (I ate there twice) and the countless others I’ve seen going about their work here.
Airports are great places to observe people and there is no better airport to do so than Dubai airport. It is such an incredible transit hub that you see people from everywhere going everywhere. Just walking around, I was fascinated to see the kinds of destinations the planes were flying to. Suddenly I remembered why I loved travelling. I get such a thrill in finding out where people are coming from and where they are going. To build a story around them just based on how they look and where they are going. Airports are great places to people watch but I think I have had it with Dubai airport for a while.
As I was scourging for a wall point to charge my laptop to write this, I started to reach for a plug point and so did this girl with her iphone. Marlene from Belgium told me it was okay and I could use it.
Me: Do you have a USB charger?
She: Yes (Pulls it out)
Me: I connect my laptop, you connect to my computer
She: Teamwork
I connect my laptop and she connects her phone to the laptop but it doesn’t work
She: It’s not happening. No teamwork
Me: It will. Believe in it.
The phone starts charging
Both: Rejoice and scream
She just took her phone as she was ready to board her flight to Brussels. “Bon soir Marlene,” I said.
We both fly out of DXB tonight, but many return to work another day.
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
Monday, November 28, 2011
Chasing a familiar tune in an unfamiliar land!
I think I am a pretty spontaneous person. Always up for adventures, always keen on doing something fun and different, always amidst the thick of things. However, the ‘madness’ that I pursued this past thanksgiving weekend makes old me look like a dull, boring run of the mill guy.
It was Wednesday before thanksgiving; I was giving a presentation in front of a handful of disinterested and dull mechanical engineers on a Vibrations experiment we performed a few weeks ago. This was the last thing any of us wanted to be doing instead of leaving for our thanksgiving breaks. Nonetheless it was over rather painlessly. I called the Lebanese embassy in DC to whom I had sent my passport on a sudden crazy whim a few days ago, expecting a negative response on the status of my visa. It was 11 am, when the lady at the other end said, “Yes it’s ready, you can come pick it up if you want.”
Rewind a week back. I was planning to do something for thanksgiving. The last month or so had been very intense with me working hard on school, even on the weekends and I was hell bent on abusing my Delta flight benefits to go somewhere far over this four day holiday. The turkey can wait for another time I thought. An outlandish idea popped in my head. I should go to Beirut, Lebanon to watch ‘Above and Beyond’ performing the 400th episode of their iconic ‘Trance Around the World’ show. Two things, one I love Above and Beyond and the music they make and this was something others that share this interest with me had jokingly talked about earlier in the year when we saw them playing at Electric Zoo in New York. Second, the idea was wild enough and the thought of visiting this liberal Middle Eastern nation was very tempting. I made some frantic calls to embassies and consulates to determine how I will get there and sent my passport over to the Lebanese embassy in DC and forgot about the trip.
The ‘yes’ on the other side of the call was one that I was dreading this Wednesday morning because I was just recovering from a pretty wild flu I caught a few days ago. I knew now that I could make this happen. Once I made the decision that I was going, everything after is a beautiful and crazy haze. I called my roommate Kyle, whose family lives in DC and who offered to get the passport picked up in the off chance that I would fly to DC to get my passport. Yep I decided do that. In between running home, throwing my stuff into two carry on bags, driving to the airport, explaining to my parents what I was doing, coordinating with Kyle’s mom, Paula Jennings (Thank you Paula, you made it possible), flying to DC and back, booking my hotel and concert ticket in some part of some airport, I was actually now on my flight, seat 40D flying to Dubai! My onward connection from Dubai had been booked based off me making this flight. Phew.
I had to pinch myself and look at the visa multiple times for it to sink in that this was actually happening. I was going to Lebanon for a concert! What a story it would make, and what a story it made!
My knowledge of Lebanon and of many countries in the Middle East is limited to capital names, geographic locations and maybe a little bit more. The only place I had been to was Dubai but then that doesn’t count. It’s too modern and liberal to foreigners for it to be a challenge (It's a slightly different story for locals). So here I was, not really knowing what to expect, except beautiful women and good Lebanese food (We all have gotten a taste of it, even if it’s the bastardized hummus they sell at supermarkets around).
I landed in Dubai and made my connection to Doha and onwards to Beirut easily. Met an interesting Romanian chap from Orange County who seemed to be travelling everywhere for the heck of it. He kept poking fun at the airline in his European twang, “This is one star service, not the five star service they advertised to me”, while searching for the advertisement in the inflight entertainment guide.
I landed at Rafic Al Hariri airport in Beirut at 2am and was a little nervous. Not knowing any Arabic, not knowing much about the land, having been on planes for more than 24 hours and it being late at night, made me a little weary. I didn’t want to look like a tourist, an outsider, but I guess I wasn’t good at the deception because the cabbie charged me $60 to my hotel. But he was a nice guy and offered me a cigarette when he wanted to smoke and made the kind of chit chat you engage in when you meet someone from a different country. The drive was uneventful barring my curiosity at anything I could pick up from the surroundings about where I was and what I were to expect. After a little hassle with the check in, (apparently the website I booked on had to get my visa details beforehand to get me the rate I thought I was getting which they hadn’t) I finally got a bed to myself and I was just glad for that. After struggling to sleep for a few hours I fell asleep to some old Hollywood film and didn’t wake till 2 in the afternoon.
I quickly got ready and packed my bag to head out into town to start exploring this city I had heard some good things about. My hotel was in a city called Jal el Dib (pronounced Jal-e-Deeb), which was a fair distance from Beirut. Lebanon is a very small country so when I say the two cities were far they were about 8-10 km apart. Jal el-dib was on a hill. It was un-kept, dirty in parts and had maddened cars going up and down the hills. Felt much like India. I started walking down the hill and came across a hole in the wall bakery and decided to enter. The conversations stopped and all eyes turned to me as I entered and found myself standing there dumb, as the menu was in Arabic. I reluctantly said something in French to the baker/cashier in what didn’t appear to be a functional eatery and he responded in the affirmative. To avoid any embarrassment, I ordered whatever he said and took a seat to feel like a ‘local’. In walked in a forty something or fifty something man, dressed in a nice shirt and jeans, with greying hair, carrying with him a black plastic bag that had two tomatoes. This man, Sam Obeid or Sam Stevens (his nickname he said), catholic, was soon to become my tour guide for the day.
The baker guy probably told Sam something about me and he started chit chatting with me and soon we were talking about Lebanon, America, India, why I was there and all that kind of stuff. Feeling a little more comfortable I asked him what I should do and where I should explore. I wanted a real experience of Lebanon I said. We had started munching on our delectable pizzas that the baker had rolled out and placed in the wood fired oven while in conversation. Sam shared some of his Lebanese tomatoes with me and to be honest they were very good; Firm and flavorful.
At some point during the conversation, Mr. Obeid had volunteered to lend his services to show me around town. I honestly don’t know when this happened but it did and I was once again a little apprehensive but to prove his worth he showed me the two thin books he was carrying in his hands. It was him who wrote them, well at least he tried. The English wasn’t the greatest, they didn’t seem edited either. But nonetheless he seemed to have a hobby. One was an espionage novel and the other was some sort of love/action/thriller novel. (The cover of this one had an Ak47, go figure). And when he opened the door to his 3 series BMW, I felt a little more rest assured. Before we went anywhere, I told him I needed to pick up my concert ticket from one of the Virgin stores around. Complications involved us having to look for a printer and go to a little internet café in an industrial town called Dora. This place had abandoned factories and cars that had rusted years ago and were now disintegrating. Armenian refugees lived in whatever stood amongst these falling buildings. However these were just the outskirts of the area and the inner streets were lined with shops and small restaurants. I was getting quite an experience but I was dying to see the beauty, the confluence of cultures and influences in the architecture that I had heard about.
We drove into downtown Beirut next. Traffic in all of Lebanon was wild and untamed, especially on this one main highway around the evening. We parked our car and started walking around. I was starting to see the beauty of this city. Downtown Beirut was a stark contrast to Jal-el-dib and the other part of town we had driven through; Smart, sophisticated and clean, with buildings that were neither entirely Arab nor European in design. Beirut is the oldest continuously occupied city in the world. The city was drowned 7 times and excavations found homes and remains of staircases and roofs that are for the public to see, built around 6000-7000 years ago. Walking around, out of nowhere, I saw perfectly intact Pillars from the Roman times. The kind I saw in Rome, absolutely magnificent. Recent times have seen a war within the country. The minority Muslims started fighting the majority Christians in the city. There was a ‘green line’ that separated the city between the Muslim side and the Christian side. People had to take up arms to protect what was theirs and Sam himself defended his country from being burnt to the ground. The war is over and it is the Sunnis that are fighting with Shia’s now. The landscape of the city is gorgeous in parts and interspersed around are buildings that were torn down in the war that still stay intact in that condition. There was another kind of beauty in such a stark juxtaposition.
In my time in Beirut till now, I had deciphered that the Lebanese are a generally liberal people. The clothes they wear, the way women and men interact in public for the most part and the way they go out (bars and clubs), seemed to suggest this was very progressive for a region that is very regressive and behind the times. Something that caught my attention soon, was the languages spoken in this country. Arabic, French and English are the languages that are spoken here and it is not uncommon to find educated Lebanese to switch between any of these three. Sort of like the Hinglish we have in India, more like the Frabic if you may?!
I was enjoying my walking tour, after all, despite the slight weirdness that I had begun to sense from Sam (Who was he, did he not work, why was an old man so interested in checking out women), he was giving me a pretty good sighter of the city. Our walking wandering led us to a boardwalk by the water called the Cornish. What a lively spot this was. From joggers and children on skates, roller boards and bmx bikes to couples, people walking their dogs and families fishing from over the ledge. Sam was in a rather chatty mood and soon we (he was) part of a conversation with a man walking a dog. We were soon joined by a Muslim woman who turned out to be a local classical singer. She made me listen to some of her songs on her phone. They were splendid. This was followed be a few more conversations as we walked along, Sam trying to show me that the Lebanese are very friendly love to mingle.
To say the world is a small place is such an understatement. As we were listening to a live band perform in front of a small crowd in an open air market (souk), Sam started to chat with one girl (he was feeling rather very chatty and would always start with, "I am a writer and would show them his books"), who then he introduced to me saying, “Even he is from America.” Paying little attention, I then overheard that she was from Georgia. It turned out she was from Roswell and her friend with her went to Emory. Unfortunately I wasn’t able to get rid of Sam and didn’t want to impose this old, slightly creepy man on these young girls so we bid adieu.
I was getting a little annoyed now and wanted to get time to myself but knew that he would probably want some money for his time, (He had hinted this in the beginning) but I wasn't sure how much. I told him I was hungry and then in the up and down way it had been going with him, he took to me a great little Lebanese sandwich shop that was packed to the brim with regulars. This was going to be good and it so was! The toasted freshly baked bread roll, had a blend of peppers, chicken, some sort of sauce and a whole lot of goodness (Was called a Fahita sandwich, cost $2.5). Sam only asked me to give him money for gas and I was pleased that he didn’t try to thug me or loot me and genuinely wanted me to experience Lebanon and leave with a good taste. I told him I would call him the next day but I didn't.
I awoke on day 2 with the confidence I needed to go about discovering the city on my own. I didn’t have a plan. I just wanted to get back to downtown Beirut. So I started walking, and walking and walking some more. I figured I had enough time to walk to Beirut (8-10 km), just knowing that I had to keep going on the one main highway. For my Indian readers, this highway felt like the Ring Road. Shops and localities all along the way, so cars would just abruptly stop to pick up some food or a cake from their favourite bakery and block traffic that was otherwise supposed to be flowing smoothly. As I evaded traffic even on the sidewalks, I got inquiries from taxis, buses, merchants but I kept walking confidently, amused and intrigued at the similarities in some things around the world. It took me 3 hours, walking sometimes on the main road, sometimes in back alleys but I made it to the city center. It was a great walk and I saw what locals did, where they ate etc. I even stumbled across Gemyazee, a swanky street in Beirut with trendy bars, clubs and cafes. We had visited here briefly the night before and it had the hip crowd of Beirut rubbing shoulders. I saw it in a completely new and wonderful light in the afternoon when these places were still closed.
I walked into a very colorful looking designer clothes store called ‘Lulu et Moi’ (Lulu and me) and was trying to decipher whether it was just a girls store or whether it was a baby girls store. The lady in the store started a conversation with me in French which delighted me to no extent. We chatted and laughed and she was amused and fascinated to know I was there just for the concert. As a parting note, she said “No Marriage. Marriage is tension.” It’s in moments like these, when French flows out wonderfully and the other party is responsive and mindful that I need to be spoken to slowly, that I tell myself that I need to be well versed and fluent in what to me is the most beautiful language on the tongue and to the ears.
In Downtown Beirut, I took residence at one of the many cafes with outdoor seating, with a sheesha and a platter of hummus to myself. As I smoked the sheesha and relaxed my tired feet, I was feasting my eyes on the surrounding buildings and found myself in a happy reflective state of mind. Walking around a little more I discovered a gorgeous mall which was called the ‘Beirut Souks.’ The mall blended in with the architecture around and was set in an open layout with no overlying roof over the entire thing. It was indeed one of a kind. Jihad, my cabby I found for $10 (I was improving) was a very happy and chatty guy. Told me he loved America and the Iphone when he saw mine, kept pulling my leg and shaking my hand and every now and then out of nowhere in his Arabic accent would say, “Fuck this shit, fuck this car”, cursing the traffic. What a tremendous two days of discovering the city it had been. I had gotten a real look into Lebanon with the limited time and resources I had. Despite the success up till now, the crowning glory of the trip, Above and Beyond, Trance Around the World 400 was yet to happen. Music was about to happen!
‘Trance Around the World’ is Above and Beyond’s weekly podcast they do that features the best of trance/electronic of the week and some of their own music. This was the 400th episode and was being celebrated in the form of a colossal live event being broadcast live across the world. The live radio show had acts from Jaytech, Kyau and Albert, Above and Beyond, Gareth Emory and the young and madly talented Mat Zo. It was to go from 10pm-6am. A marathon dance party. The venue was the Forum de Beyrouth, a huge industrial sort of space with concrete floors and an open layout; ideal for a large gathering trying to cause an epic noise.
The excitement was palpable as the event started off. We knew that people from around the world were tuning into this over live stream but it hadn’t sunk in how big this really was. When above and beyond came on at 1am, the crowd went wild, I went wild. They are the dorkiest, most adorable looking three guys from Britain (Finish roots); Jono, Pavo and Tony. At some point in their set, they wrote this on the screen, “We’ve been #1 on twitter since 11pm”. Wow, I was at an event that was the most trending topic on twitter! The euphoria of that aside, the event was electric. The crowd was respectful, appreciative and loud. The dj’s were creative, pumped and psyched to be there. What the crowd got was, 8 hours of absolute dance music bliss. As I start thinking about what I was a part of, I feel privileged and glad I was able to be a part of such a huge and monumental celebration.
I am on one of my flights back, somewhere in some airport, tired and looking to just sleep, but I cannot stop smiling at the thought of this crazy getaway of mine.
Lebanon was a wonderful mix of religions, cultures, history and traditions. The people were friendly and keen to help, the city boasted of great cuisine, art and culture. I felt comfortable from the get go. The music was a bonus and what a bonus it was.
One thing I have noticed in my travels is that conflicts around the world stem from similar things. People want power and the minorities tend to rise up and demand for what they believe should be theirs. Sometimes it is violent sometimes it is peaceful. At the music venue, there were people from different countries, different walks of life and even different religions. This was a diverse group of people to say the least and what brought them together was their sole love for this music. Music transcends all boundaries, makes people forget their sorrows and elevates them to a happier place. That is what I love about 'Above and Beyond'. Their music is great but what’s greater is their ability to mix it with pure joy and serve it with that extra dose of love!
Lyrics of one of their songs go, “Don’t forget about a thing called Love.” We should all embrace that motto in our daily lives. Spread love, not hate!
What a trip. What a time. What an experience. The memories tattooed in my heart! To all the characters I met along the way, thank you for a wonderful experience.
(Pictures coming soon)
Side Note: Dollars and Lira (1500 lira to a dollar) are readily exchangeable. You can get Lira's or Dollars from ATM's and the rate is fixed.
Side Side note: I didn't get my flight back to Atlanta and have been living at an airport hotel at Dubai airport. Pretty memorable it is. The window I have overlooks the transfer counter and beyond that is the tarmac. Hopefully will make it out in a few hours.
It was Wednesday before thanksgiving; I was giving a presentation in front of a handful of disinterested and dull mechanical engineers on a Vibrations experiment we performed a few weeks ago. This was the last thing any of us wanted to be doing instead of leaving for our thanksgiving breaks. Nonetheless it was over rather painlessly. I called the Lebanese embassy in DC to whom I had sent my passport on a sudden crazy whim a few days ago, expecting a negative response on the status of my visa. It was 11 am, when the lady at the other end said, “Yes it’s ready, you can come pick it up if you want.”
Rewind a week back. I was planning to do something for thanksgiving. The last month or so had been very intense with me working hard on school, even on the weekends and I was hell bent on abusing my Delta flight benefits to go somewhere far over this four day holiday. The turkey can wait for another time I thought. An outlandish idea popped in my head. I should go to Beirut, Lebanon to watch ‘Above and Beyond’ performing the 400th episode of their iconic ‘Trance Around the World’ show. Two things, one I love Above and Beyond and the music they make and this was something others that share this interest with me had jokingly talked about earlier in the year when we saw them playing at Electric Zoo in New York. Second, the idea was wild enough and the thought of visiting this liberal Middle Eastern nation was very tempting. I made some frantic calls to embassies and consulates to determine how I will get there and sent my passport over to the Lebanese embassy in DC and forgot about the trip.
The ‘yes’ on the other side of the call was one that I was dreading this Wednesday morning because I was just recovering from a pretty wild flu I caught a few days ago. I knew now that I could make this happen. Once I made the decision that I was going, everything after is a beautiful and crazy haze. I called my roommate Kyle, whose family lives in DC and who offered to get the passport picked up in the off chance that I would fly to DC to get my passport. Yep I decided do that. In between running home, throwing my stuff into two carry on bags, driving to the airport, explaining to my parents what I was doing, coordinating with Kyle’s mom, Paula Jennings (Thank you Paula, you made it possible), flying to DC and back, booking my hotel and concert ticket in some part of some airport, I was actually now on my flight, seat 40D flying to Dubai! My onward connection from Dubai had been booked based off me making this flight. Phew.
I had to pinch myself and look at the visa multiple times for it to sink in that this was actually happening. I was going to Lebanon for a concert! What a story it would make, and what a story it made!
My knowledge of Lebanon and of many countries in the Middle East is limited to capital names, geographic locations and maybe a little bit more. The only place I had been to was Dubai but then that doesn’t count. It’s too modern and liberal to foreigners for it to be a challenge (It's a slightly different story for locals). So here I was, not really knowing what to expect, except beautiful women and good Lebanese food (We all have gotten a taste of it, even if it’s the bastardized hummus they sell at supermarkets around).
I landed in Dubai and made my connection to Doha and onwards to Beirut easily. Met an interesting Romanian chap from Orange County who seemed to be travelling everywhere for the heck of it. He kept poking fun at the airline in his European twang, “This is one star service, not the five star service they advertised to me”, while searching for the advertisement in the inflight entertainment guide.
I landed at Rafic Al Hariri airport in Beirut at 2am and was a little nervous. Not knowing any Arabic, not knowing much about the land, having been on planes for more than 24 hours and it being late at night, made me a little weary. I didn’t want to look like a tourist, an outsider, but I guess I wasn’t good at the deception because the cabbie charged me $60 to my hotel. But he was a nice guy and offered me a cigarette when he wanted to smoke and made the kind of chit chat you engage in when you meet someone from a different country. The drive was uneventful barring my curiosity at anything I could pick up from the surroundings about where I was and what I were to expect. After a little hassle with the check in, (apparently the website I booked on had to get my visa details beforehand to get me the rate I thought I was getting which they hadn’t) I finally got a bed to myself and I was just glad for that. After struggling to sleep for a few hours I fell asleep to some old Hollywood film and didn’t wake till 2 in the afternoon.
I quickly got ready and packed my bag to head out into town to start exploring this city I had heard some good things about. My hotel was in a city called Jal el Dib (pronounced Jal-e-Deeb), which was a fair distance from Beirut. Lebanon is a very small country so when I say the two cities were far they were about 8-10 km apart. Jal el-dib was on a hill. It was un-kept, dirty in parts and had maddened cars going up and down the hills. Felt much like India. I started walking down the hill and came across a hole in the wall bakery and decided to enter. The conversations stopped and all eyes turned to me as I entered and found myself standing there dumb, as the menu was in Arabic. I reluctantly said something in French to the baker/cashier in what didn’t appear to be a functional eatery and he responded in the affirmative. To avoid any embarrassment, I ordered whatever he said and took a seat to feel like a ‘local’. In walked in a forty something or fifty something man, dressed in a nice shirt and jeans, with greying hair, carrying with him a black plastic bag that had two tomatoes. This man, Sam Obeid or Sam Stevens (his nickname he said), catholic, was soon to become my tour guide for the day.
The baker guy probably told Sam something about me and he started chit chatting with me and soon we were talking about Lebanon, America, India, why I was there and all that kind of stuff. Feeling a little more comfortable I asked him what I should do and where I should explore. I wanted a real experience of Lebanon I said. We had started munching on our delectable pizzas that the baker had rolled out and placed in the wood fired oven while in conversation. Sam shared some of his Lebanese tomatoes with me and to be honest they were very good; Firm and flavorful.
At some point during the conversation, Mr. Obeid had volunteered to lend his services to show me around town. I honestly don’t know when this happened but it did and I was once again a little apprehensive but to prove his worth he showed me the two thin books he was carrying in his hands. It was him who wrote them, well at least he tried. The English wasn’t the greatest, they didn’t seem edited either. But nonetheless he seemed to have a hobby. One was an espionage novel and the other was some sort of love/action/thriller novel. (The cover of this one had an Ak47, go figure). And when he opened the door to his 3 series BMW, I felt a little more rest assured. Before we went anywhere, I told him I needed to pick up my concert ticket from one of the Virgin stores around. Complications involved us having to look for a printer and go to a little internet café in an industrial town called Dora. This place had abandoned factories and cars that had rusted years ago and were now disintegrating. Armenian refugees lived in whatever stood amongst these falling buildings. However these were just the outskirts of the area and the inner streets were lined with shops and small restaurants. I was getting quite an experience but I was dying to see the beauty, the confluence of cultures and influences in the architecture that I had heard about.
We drove into downtown Beirut next. Traffic in all of Lebanon was wild and untamed, especially on this one main highway around the evening. We parked our car and started walking around. I was starting to see the beauty of this city. Downtown Beirut was a stark contrast to Jal-el-dib and the other part of town we had driven through; Smart, sophisticated and clean, with buildings that were neither entirely Arab nor European in design. Beirut is the oldest continuously occupied city in the world. The city was drowned 7 times and excavations found homes and remains of staircases and roofs that are for the public to see, built around 6000-7000 years ago. Walking around, out of nowhere, I saw perfectly intact Pillars from the Roman times. The kind I saw in Rome, absolutely magnificent. Recent times have seen a war within the country. The minority Muslims started fighting the majority Christians in the city. There was a ‘green line’ that separated the city between the Muslim side and the Christian side. People had to take up arms to protect what was theirs and Sam himself defended his country from being burnt to the ground. The war is over and it is the Sunnis that are fighting with Shia’s now. The landscape of the city is gorgeous in parts and interspersed around are buildings that were torn down in the war that still stay intact in that condition. There was another kind of beauty in such a stark juxtaposition.
In my time in Beirut till now, I had deciphered that the Lebanese are a generally liberal people. The clothes they wear, the way women and men interact in public for the most part and the way they go out (bars and clubs), seemed to suggest this was very progressive for a region that is very regressive and behind the times. Something that caught my attention soon, was the languages spoken in this country. Arabic, French and English are the languages that are spoken here and it is not uncommon to find educated Lebanese to switch between any of these three. Sort of like the Hinglish we have in India, more like the Frabic if you may?!
I was enjoying my walking tour, after all, despite the slight weirdness that I had begun to sense from Sam (Who was he, did he not work, why was an old man so interested in checking out women), he was giving me a pretty good sighter of the city. Our walking wandering led us to a boardwalk by the water called the Cornish. What a lively spot this was. From joggers and children on skates, roller boards and bmx bikes to couples, people walking their dogs and families fishing from over the ledge. Sam was in a rather chatty mood and soon we (he was) part of a conversation with a man walking a dog. We were soon joined by a Muslim woman who turned out to be a local classical singer. She made me listen to some of her songs on her phone. They were splendid. This was followed be a few more conversations as we walked along, Sam trying to show me that the Lebanese are very friendly love to mingle.
To say the world is a small place is such an understatement. As we were listening to a live band perform in front of a small crowd in an open air market (souk), Sam started to chat with one girl (he was feeling rather very chatty and would always start with, "I am a writer and would show them his books"), who then he introduced to me saying, “Even he is from America.” Paying little attention, I then overheard that she was from Georgia. It turned out she was from Roswell and her friend with her went to Emory. Unfortunately I wasn’t able to get rid of Sam and didn’t want to impose this old, slightly creepy man on these young girls so we bid adieu.
I was getting a little annoyed now and wanted to get time to myself but knew that he would probably want some money for his time, (He had hinted this in the beginning) but I wasn't sure how much. I told him I was hungry and then in the up and down way it had been going with him, he took to me a great little Lebanese sandwich shop that was packed to the brim with regulars. This was going to be good and it so was! The toasted freshly baked bread roll, had a blend of peppers, chicken, some sort of sauce and a whole lot of goodness (Was called a Fahita sandwich, cost $2.5). Sam only asked me to give him money for gas and I was pleased that he didn’t try to thug me or loot me and genuinely wanted me to experience Lebanon and leave with a good taste. I told him I would call him the next day but I didn't.
I awoke on day 2 with the confidence I needed to go about discovering the city on my own. I didn’t have a plan. I just wanted to get back to downtown Beirut. So I started walking, and walking and walking some more. I figured I had enough time to walk to Beirut (8-10 km), just knowing that I had to keep going on the one main highway. For my Indian readers, this highway felt like the Ring Road. Shops and localities all along the way, so cars would just abruptly stop to pick up some food or a cake from their favourite bakery and block traffic that was otherwise supposed to be flowing smoothly. As I evaded traffic even on the sidewalks, I got inquiries from taxis, buses, merchants but I kept walking confidently, amused and intrigued at the similarities in some things around the world. It took me 3 hours, walking sometimes on the main road, sometimes in back alleys but I made it to the city center. It was a great walk and I saw what locals did, where they ate etc. I even stumbled across Gemyazee, a swanky street in Beirut with trendy bars, clubs and cafes. We had visited here briefly the night before and it had the hip crowd of Beirut rubbing shoulders. I saw it in a completely new and wonderful light in the afternoon when these places were still closed.
I walked into a very colorful looking designer clothes store called ‘Lulu et Moi’ (Lulu and me) and was trying to decipher whether it was just a girls store or whether it was a baby girls store. The lady in the store started a conversation with me in French which delighted me to no extent. We chatted and laughed and she was amused and fascinated to know I was there just for the concert. As a parting note, she said “No Marriage. Marriage is tension.” It’s in moments like these, when French flows out wonderfully and the other party is responsive and mindful that I need to be spoken to slowly, that I tell myself that I need to be well versed and fluent in what to me is the most beautiful language on the tongue and to the ears.
In Downtown Beirut, I took residence at one of the many cafes with outdoor seating, with a sheesha and a platter of hummus to myself. As I smoked the sheesha and relaxed my tired feet, I was feasting my eyes on the surrounding buildings and found myself in a happy reflective state of mind. Walking around a little more I discovered a gorgeous mall which was called the ‘Beirut Souks.’ The mall blended in with the architecture around and was set in an open layout with no overlying roof over the entire thing. It was indeed one of a kind. Jihad, my cabby I found for $10 (I was improving) was a very happy and chatty guy. Told me he loved America and the Iphone when he saw mine, kept pulling my leg and shaking my hand and every now and then out of nowhere in his Arabic accent would say, “Fuck this shit, fuck this car”, cursing the traffic. What a tremendous two days of discovering the city it had been. I had gotten a real look into Lebanon with the limited time and resources I had. Despite the success up till now, the crowning glory of the trip, Above and Beyond, Trance Around the World 400 was yet to happen. Music was about to happen!
‘Trance Around the World’ is Above and Beyond’s weekly podcast they do that features the best of trance/electronic of the week and some of their own music. This was the 400th episode and was being celebrated in the form of a colossal live event being broadcast live across the world. The live radio show had acts from Jaytech, Kyau and Albert, Above and Beyond, Gareth Emory and the young and madly talented Mat Zo. It was to go from 10pm-6am. A marathon dance party. The venue was the Forum de Beyrouth, a huge industrial sort of space with concrete floors and an open layout; ideal for a large gathering trying to cause an epic noise.
The excitement was palpable as the event started off. We knew that people from around the world were tuning into this over live stream but it hadn’t sunk in how big this really was. When above and beyond came on at 1am, the crowd went wild, I went wild. They are the dorkiest, most adorable looking three guys from Britain (Finish roots); Jono, Pavo and Tony. At some point in their set, they wrote this on the screen, “We’ve been #1 on twitter since 11pm”. Wow, I was at an event that was the most trending topic on twitter! The euphoria of that aside, the event was electric. The crowd was respectful, appreciative and loud. The dj’s were creative, pumped and psyched to be there. What the crowd got was, 8 hours of absolute dance music bliss. As I start thinking about what I was a part of, I feel privileged and glad I was able to be a part of such a huge and monumental celebration.
I am on one of my flights back, somewhere in some airport, tired and looking to just sleep, but I cannot stop smiling at the thought of this crazy getaway of mine.
Lebanon was a wonderful mix of religions, cultures, history and traditions. The people were friendly and keen to help, the city boasted of great cuisine, art and culture. I felt comfortable from the get go. The music was a bonus and what a bonus it was.
One thing I have noticed in my travels is that conflicts around the world stem from similar things. People want power and the minorities tend to rise up and demand for what they believe should be theirs. Sometimes it is violent sometimes it is peaceful. At the music venue, there were people from different countries, different walks of life and even different religions. This was a diverse group of people to say the least and what brought them together was their sole love for this music. Music transcends all boundaries, makes people forget their sorrows and elevates them to a happier place. That is what I love about 'Above and Beyond'. Their music is great but what’s greater is their ability to mix it with pure joy and serve it with that extra dose of love!
Lyrics of one of their songs go, “Don’t forget about a thing called Love.” We should all embrace that motto in our daily lives. Spread love, not hate!
What a trip. What a time. What an experience. The memories tattooed in my heart! To all the characters I met along the way, thank you for a wonderful experience.
(Pictures coming soon)
Side Note: Dollars and Lira (1500 lira to a dollar) are readily exchangeable. You can get Lira's or Dollars from ATM's and the rate is fixed.
Side Side note: I didn't get my flight back to Atlanta and have been living at an airport hotel at Dubai airport. Pretty memorable it is. The window I have overlooks the transfer counter and beyond that is the tarmac. Hopefully will make it out in a few hours.
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