In today’s world, the echos of political unrest, environmental shifts, social media noise, and the relentless pursuit of a livelihood can lead one to question humanity’s essence. The hustle, mortgage pressures, and credit card woes often consume us. I, like many reading this, found myself on the relentless hamster wheel of life.
Emerging from the technology sector, the upheaval of COVID-19 displaced numerous IT professionals, leaving little time for respite. Yet, amidst this chaos, a connection unfolded as I met my fiancé from Lebanon, specifically a small village called Jarjouh. Amidst the narratives of Lebanon’s struggles broadcasted in the media, he invited me to take a break, urging me to join him in his homeland. He always went back to regain himself from the pressures in Boston.
Against the backdrop of Hollywood-induced apprehension, I landed in Beirut, coinciding with a disquieting news story of an airport kidnapping. Navigating customs and immigration, I was greeted by my Lebanese fiancé, and the journey began.
Lebanon, with its wild beauty, unveiled itself — beaches juxtaposed with roadside garbage, a testament to a faltering government. From Los Angeles to Jarjouh, the transition felt oddly reminiscent yet uniquely different. The first day, a scenic drive through Beirut’s bustling streets and the political tapestry of Hezbollah flags led to a seaside restaurant, offering a glimpse into the rich cultural tapestry of coffee, cigarettes, hookah and baklava.
As a westerner, encountering those yellow flags adorned with images of young fallen heroes was a wake-up call. The alarms in my head resonated with fear at first — my understanding was shaped by western media, and I had been misled. This revelation sparked a journey of reevaluation, breaking free from preconceived notions and embracing a more nuanced perspective. The journey toward truth is an empowering one, and I am inspired to seek authenticity beyond the confines of biased narratives.
Amidst the cobblestone streets and jasmine-scented air of Jarjouh, the village embraced this American outsider. The yellow flags, memorials to lost ones, stood as poignant reminders of past wars. Struggling with language barriers, I experienced a newfound empathy for immigrants in a foreign land.
In those initial days, my fiancé served as both tour guide and interpreter, unraveling stories of war, famine, and the aftermath of governmental failures. Conversations with individuals who lived through conflict painted a stark contrast to Western media narratives.
As I heard stories of Israeli missiles, bullet-ridden camps, and the struggles of day laborers, vacation mode faded into a profound humanitarian awareness. The ghastly war narratives made me reassess my seemingly trivial problems. Their resilience and gratitude for life, despite adversity, became a powerful reminder not to take a single moment for granted.
The Villagers
Embarking on a journey through Lebanon was a revelation. Surrounded by PHDs and brilliant minds, engaging in profound discussions about God and beyond, I was captivated. Arriving in a car, welcomed by women in full hijab with flowers, I felt an overwhelming warmth everywhere I went.
Lebanese culture, food took center stage, and I embraced it wholeheartedly. From delectable shawarma and flavorful ful to the finest meat pies and the most delicious vegetables, every bite was a culinary delight. Post-meal rituals of tea and cigarettes added a touch of familiarity to the vibrant experience. Lebanon, a tapestry of intellect, hospitality, and gastronomic wonders.
On this journey, I met a local house painter by the name of Hussein. He and his wife and son left Syria for a better life in Lebanon. Probably, one of the purist hearted people I have ever met. The man didn’t have much but still found time to offer elderberries as a welcome to Lebanon gift. His warmth will never be forgotten. He made me feel welcomed.
It wasn’t uncommon to simply show up at someones house, they tell their friends and next thing you know you have a get together. Music, dance, and my favorite poetry readings.
Leaving Lebanon
Leaving Jarjouh after incredible moments, my Lebanon adventure concluded. Bid farewell to my fiancé at the airport, now navigating Beirut International solo. At customs, a serious-faced official asked, "Do you know any Arabic?" With confidence, I listed my vocabulary: "Sukran, aslam allakom, and inshallah!" A burst of hearty laughter, a stamped passport – turns out, I’m internationally funny.
Midway through Frankfurt, and back at Logan International Airport in Massachusetts — the journey continued. Lebanon’s impact is indelible; the incredible people I met reshaped my very core. They taught me the art of staying human amidst the chaos. My wish? To return one day, post-war, and continue the journey of connection. — — -Inshallah (God Willing)
I made it home in one piece, and got through Frankfurt, Germany which that in itself is worthy of it’s own articles about adventure. ***I’m no longer engaged to my Lebanese fiance in the article. Life happens. Don’t be afraid to travel and invite other cultures into your life. This experience will stay with me for life. I adopted Islam during this trip, and that will be my follow up article to shed light on islam and combat islamophobia. Inshallah !— Gracie Gato