Author Archives: Farrah Berrou

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Excavation of a 20-Something’s Bedroom

After rearranging the furniture during a recent fit of insomnia, my bedroom was a labyrinth that poked at my latent OCD that I had buried deep inside me along with my secret unexplained urge to want to pinch the ass of a nice car. A5s be fine. Anyway, like most humans, I tend to get too caught up in the everyday routine. By the time I get a moment of peace, I will rarely want to waste it organizing the chaos that I have come to call my sanctuary (Kudos if you read that in Quasimodo’s voice). Because tomorrow’s always a day away, I rather just shove it all aside so there’s enough room for me and my laptop to fall asleep. What can I say, we’re very close.


Eventually, the time comes when enough is enough. As I was digging through the rubble of the accumulated possessions, I realized that this process has a Time Capsule Effect. This only occurs when you really dig though, like when you’re moving to a new house or trying to find your Fifa World Cup Brazil scarf from ’98.

A time capsule, for those who are not familiar, is an activity usually reserved for high school reunions and other moments where one may want to literally dig up the past. Participants can place mementos, tapes, videos, etc in the time capsule which will then be buried or locked away only to be opened at a later date where everyone can share in the reminiscing. 


Oddly, no matter how many times you rummage through your belongings, there will always be remnants of a close friend or flame that are no longer a part of your life. There’s no shame in it, they were once important to you and for whatever reason – be it a fight, flight or just life – now they’re just somebody that you used to know. Maybe it’s a nice reminder, maybe it’s bittersweet, or maybe it sucks. Whatever it is, there they are again. These artifacts usually come in the form of old birthday cards/notes, dried flowers, photographs, or a keychain they got you when they went to Prague once. Disposal of such things is a personal choice. Getting rid of the material presence may help the emotional presence if needed. But not much. 

Speaking of keychains, that’s another thing: souvenirs. Shot glasses, snow globes, postcards, figurines, lighters, magnets, and other trinkets that you collected as you and people you know traveled the globe. A lot of these destinations will be places you’ve never been to and may never go to. Some will be places you mark as your next stop. Souvenirs have become the new I-thought-of-you-when-I-was-here instead of the Here’s-proof-I-was-there.

Another collection- syllabi of completed classes, old exams of dropped ones. Original copies of textbooks you swore you’d need as a reference at some point in your career only to come to find that you wouldn’t use them because:
1) they’re not up to date 
2) they’re still incomprehensible even after you graduated
3) the effort is futile, you’ll just google it
4) all of the above.
You rationalize that these will still be good references to have, buying them another couple of years on your shelf where they will collect dust and no resale value whatsoever. This is called guilt. It’s okay, we all paid $85 for a book we were too afraid to use a highlighter on. Just recycle it and stop hoarding.

As you continue your exploration, even Howard Carter wouldn’t be able to fathom why you still have notes from an elective you never liked. If you have already graduated, you will be looking at these and wondering how you ever survived a whole semester/quarter of that professor and her stories about waiting for food stamps during the Cold War or the other guy who always smelled like a cocktail of garlic and Nescafe. The best part of these notes though, will be the doodles and random scribbles that were added by classmates that you forgot you knew. Maybe you will look for them on LinkedIn just to see if they’re doing anything remotely rewarding now.

Old boxes for electronics you have already replaced, manuals you will never read and software you will never install. There’s probably a nylon bag of instructions in 4 languages for a printer that doesn’t work or is out of ink. It’s either sitting under your desk or in an electronics place in Dahieh as of 14 months ago. 


If you’re lucky, you’ll find a present that you have yet to have the chance to gift. It may be one of those just-in-case gifts you’re mom stocks up on or a gift you got someone while they were abroad. Sometimes, the latter may not get the chance to see the intended recipient because too much time will pass. You inherit a goody bag. That would explain a set of teaspoons, a candy-filled yoyo, a wooden model motorcycle, a phallic glass Eiffel of cognac, and a bar of honey soap shaped like a bee with a minijar of honey swiped from the table at that swanky cafe that had overpriced chocolat chaud.

Novels you haven’t had the chance to read, free samples of perfumes/colognes/creams, receipts from late nights at the Hamra pubs, one teddy bear, and a NY Yankees cap. All the little things that you cling to because “I might need this later”/”I can’t throw THAT away!” will be packed away only to be found on your next journey where you will say the same phrase and save it from the grasps of a sukleen truck or charity bin. 

Looking back is an interesting odyssey especially when you know what happened after those periods in your life. Sometimes, but not always, it is good to see what and who got you to the now. 

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Your Brain is a Creative Computer

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One of the best characters to come to the cartoon world of the 2000s was Professor Hawk of Dexter’s Laboratory.

Gene Wilder as Willy Wonka > Johnny Depp as Willy Wonka

It is said that his character is a parody of Willy Wonka, Stephen Hawking, and Bill Gates. In the episode, Dexter & Deedee are one of the lucky holders of a Golden Diskette (like Wonka’s Golden Ticket) and have been invited to Professor Hawk’s lab.

This song is dedicated to those who know the episode by heart:

If it’s still stuck in your head an hour from now, go listen to this. 

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Tomorrow We Will See

“Tomorrow We Will See” is a documentary that plays off of the Lebanese vernacular expression “bokra min shoof” which literally means tomorrow we will see, but it’s another way of saying “inshallah” or God willing. It is a common phrase here in Lebanon since people have gotten so used to instability and uncertainty, be it political, economical, social or electrical. This documentary focuses on artistic outlets used in the country.

As stated in the YouTube description for the trailer:

““Tomorrow We Will See” (“Bukra Minshouf”) offers a window into Lebanon’s flourishing creative culture through the perspective of ten Lebanese artists. A rock band’s thought-provoking lyrics, a poet’s description of time shrinking, an architect’s experimental manipulation of space, and a painter’s reflections on his choice of colors, reveal the process by which the featured artists transform ideas, sketches, and spaces into vibrant and dynamic works of art. A common trait that unites the artists is their talent of using art as a tool for transcending sectarian divisions and encouraging freedom of thought. Through their own artistic expressions, they have overcome decades of social and political instability and the uncertainties of what tomorrow may bring.”


 Ceramic Wall titled “From Earth to Heavens”





One example of artistic expression that seems to be disregarded is a mural done on the Bahri road going towards Dbayeh (near Qarantina). This mosaic mural was done in 2009 by Lena Kelekian. She is a visual artist, iconographer, muralist, restorer, geologist, environmental designer, mosaicist, lecturer, and curator. Her extensive education began at AUB where she graduated with a BS in Geology. 

“The distinctive feature of Kelekian’s iconography is her use of traditional Byzantine methods and natural pigments. As a geologist, Kelekian learned how to extract colors from minerals.

“I rediscovered 89 mineral-extracted colors, and discovered a few types of green and yellow.” In keeping with Byzantine methods, she paints her icons in an egg tempera (the egg being the biblical symbol of life and fertility) and embellishes the gold or silver backgrounds with precious and semi-precious stones and pearls.”


Read the full article in AUB’s Main Gate Spring 2006 issue here.



She also has a Higher Studies Diploma in Theology from the Higher Institute for Religious Formation in France, a Higher Studies Diploma in Research & Restoration from UCL, and a Doctorate Degree in Fine Arts from Greci Marino Academy of Letters, Arts & Sciences in Italy. 

She is an “Olympic artist” because her work had been selected to represent Lebanon and the Middle East in the Beijing 2008 Olympic Games. According to Al Shorfa, she “won the gold medal at the recent Olympic Fine Arts Exhibition in London, adding a second Olympic gold and the 16th first prize in her career as an artist.” (Am I the only one that didn’t know medals were awarded for art?)

The public benches on the Manara seaside in Ain Mraisse are also mosaic artworks done by Kelekian in an earlier project from 2004.

Kelekian claims to be brewing a surprise come March 2013: inviting a thousand foreign artists to organize an exhibition in central Beirut. 



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5 Reasons You Stare at Your Ceiling at 3 a.m.

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1. Mental Brushfire

This occurs when you let your thoughts run away with themselves. Blame it on the brain clusters that allow you to associate different words to different thoughts. Once this ping pong game of mental craziness begins, it will only conclude with you realizing the time: that is your chance to stop it before it continues on to another loop around your mind.

Example:

Having dessert was a bad idea. But it tasted so good and you don’t go to that restaurant a lot and you’ll go to the gym tomorrow. You should go to the gym. But you’re always so tired. It’s because you took that job. Maybe you shouldn’t have accepted that job’s terms. But you like the money. Then you can buy shoes. That you don’t need. Rewards for hard work are not a crime. You wonder what it would be like to go to prison. Don’t drop the soap. Wait, you’re not a dude. Thank god. But they don’t have to deal with all the dramatic female crap, always smile and smell like watermelons. You swallowed a watermelon seed today. A tree is going to grow in your stomach like that ginger Chucky in Rugrats. You need to stop watching cartoons. It’s 3 a.m., you should be sleeping so you’re not a zombie at that job you took…

And the cycle continues.

2. Ambushed by Choices

You’re contemplating everything. Important choices, trivial ones, even the ones that have nothing to do with anything. Your choices have lead you to where you are now. Had they been different, where would you be? Is there a split universe where another you is living a different life because they chose the road less traveled by at that last crossroad you were stuck at? Are you happier in that dimension? Maybe you shouldn’t have chosen that major, gone to that school, or ordered that milkshake. Maybe you shouldn’t have sent that text, gone to that conference, or agreed to that decision even though you didn’t agree. Maybe you should’ve bought tickets to that show, ditched that acquaintance, or just said everything you were thinking. But you did what you did and didn’t do what you didn’t do. The Butterfly Effect is clear to you and you think that maybe Ashton Kutcher is not such a horrible actor after all. Yeah right, because Punk’d has substance.

3. Double Agent Sheep

“Count sheep,” they say. “It works,”they say. No, it doesn’t. If anything, this makes you think more about keeping track of the damn balls of fluff. Then they start doing pirouettes and Swan Lake moves over the old fence. Your going apeshit trying to count the thousands of cotton ballerinas and you’re thinking that it’s more frustrating than exhausting. You try just counting without the sheep, maybe just numbers works? You realize the numbers equal the seconds of the time passing by where you’re still awake and you’re mind wanders and you forget the number. Somewhere, a sinister sheep baa-hahaha’s at you.

4. Nonexistent Signs

Because it’s late and you’re brain is working in overdrive, you start going over the activities of your day. What happened and what didn’t happen, what could’ve happened, what should’ve happened. You realize that there were hidden signs. There were clues that a higher being left you to tell you what to do with your life or to alleviate the worry that has been building up due to the ambush previously described above. You see the links that were so subtle before. If you hadn’t watched “She’s All That” that afternoon, you may not have thought about going to Just Falafel thinking that you were going to bump into a jock that wanted to make you prom queen. Sure, you didn’t meet a jock and you graduated high school over a decade ago but then, the next day, you get crowned at Burger King at your cousin’s 4th birthday party. It was a premonition.

5. The Clock

The more you think about how you’re still awake, the less likely it is that you’ll actually fall asleep. It’s the complete opposite of falling asleep on a transatlantic airplane. You’ve woken up with a neck ache thinking you’ve slept for at least 6 hours only to find that the stewardess hasn’t even served the peanuts yet. In this case, you open your eyes to check the time to see that 3 hours have passed and you’re thinking, “maybe I should give up and start the coffee maker.” The tick tocking sound of Swatch watches, wall clocks, or the crocodile in your sink. It’s taunting you. You know with every passing tick, you are increasing your chances of being a cast member of Twilight in the morning only without rolling in glitter and baby powder. You’re that guy from the auditions that wasn’t hired because you actually just look dead.

Sweet dreams.

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Discovering Fire

Psyche Revived by Cupid’s Kiss, Antonio Canova – Louvre, Paris

“Some day, after mastering the winds, the waves, the tides and gravity, we will harness for God the energies of love. And then, for the second time in the history of the world, man will have discovered fire.”

– One Tree Hill, Season 9, Episode 1.

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That’s a Bond You Can Never Break


“Blood In, Blood Out” (AKA Bound by Honor) is a film made in ’93 about 3 Chicano relatives who are gang members during their teen years. The film is another prison movie (what can I say, I enjoy crime drama) and is all about the ties that are thicker than blood. It’s got a great story but it’s 3 hours long so be prepared. In other words, bring lots of beer and snacks because this is a heavy one. Get it on DVD in order to be able to pause for bathroom breaks or you can watch it on Youtube – it’s posted in parts or in full here. 
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A Heartfelt Letter from Brain

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Dear Heart,

I would’ve staged an intervention but you wouldn’t have endured it. Like so many times before, I have resorted to putting my thoughts into words since, it seems, only through a romantic written letter will you be open to thoughts that are an honest patch of free association writing.

First, let me address something that you are, no doubt, peeved about. I know you are not the heart, that cardiac thumping ball of blood and striated muscle fiber. I know you are the figurative heart and are so insulted by being represented by the organ, a pagan symbol or any song “written” by prepubescent teenagers whose blood could be used to jumpstart a menopausal woman in the midst of a hot flash. But for simplicity’s sake combined with my impatience to find the correct scientific label for your complicated and debated existence, I am just going to call you Heart. At least I capitalized it.

You are the abstract entity that is blamed for the avoidable pain in my life; the force that makes me stash an old 3 of hearts playing card in my wallet, the overwhelming compulsion to ignore all harmful repercussions, and the sneaky bastard that allows smells to creep up and open my Pandora’s box of buried memories. The power that, sometimes, gives me some form of immediate satisfaction at the expense of my mental sanity.

You are what I give away selflessly. And I give you away repeatedly and completely hoping that, one day, you will tell me you are safe forever. That you will not come back to me and set my insides on fire. That you won’t be angry with me for abandoning you in the care of another who let you go. And I should learn – but I give away all of you all over again. I say sincerely to the recipient , “I give you my whole Heart” and it’s not a lie because that’s the whole we have left. I lost parts of you along the way. You trust me even after you return, missing a piece. I know this sounds like I should be apologizing to you but not quite. I am just acknowledging that I have not been good to you, either. This is why I do not blame you for your form of payback, for making me feel like I swallowed a supernova while the rest of me yearns to be sucked into a black hole. What I’m saying is, maybe I deserve it.

I think you will be unharmed because I cannot imagine strapping a relative of yours to a fender and dragging your bloody carcass through the town square. I assume that no one will do that to you. That no one can do that to you. Because I can’t do it to them. Somehow, I feel you won’t be a sacrifice. It always seems like a fair trade. You shouldn’t have to be retaped together and then placed in line with a lawn mower. I should protect you.

The problem, though, is this: you tell me it is okay. You practically volunteer. I hear about the symptoms of devastation and internal spontaneous combustion that can result from mishandling a Heart. I know about the withdrawal that comes in fits after the addiction owns your veins. And I think you know, too. But you get so captivated, so certain that the vulnerability will make you stronger. You get so courageous that even my fears are squashed by an Acme anvil. 
Heart, I need you to be careful. I know there is beauty in what you seek. I know that you are not naive and reckless. You are laying yourself on the line in exchange for tackle hugs, silent dances, and tangible tenderness that time will stand still for because it gives you a constant to depend on. 
You are taking a leap of faith. Just be easy on me when I’m the only one there to catch you if you fall.
Love,
Brain
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Dahieh’s Sweet Side

The dahieh, meaning “neighborhood” in Arabic, is the word used to describe the southern suburbs of Beirut city. It’s the same area that was rearranged like a chessboard during the July 2006 war. Usually associated with Hezbollah and cheap car maintenance, dahieh is rarely thought of when it comes to dessert. Unless you’ve heard of Cremino.

Cake Slices

Across from the Shiite Consulate is Cremino Patisserie, a bakery established in 1993. On big dessert holidays such as Mother’s Day or Valentine’s Day, the only cakes sold are vanilla or chocolate black forest (foret noir) with the exception of pre-ordered cakes. On any regular day, by 11am, most of the croissants are sold out. The patisserie is so popular that they have recently relocated to comfortably accommodate all their different stations: cakes & assorted desserts, chocolate & gift items, bread, and ice cream.

Ice Cream Section

Cake Fridges

They’ve moved to the adjacent building and purchased the entire ground floor and parking lot. It is accessible directly from the old Airport Road on the right side (when driving away from the Intl. Airport). The baking factory part of the business occurs underground in the basement level. Their old location will be bought by Siblini, a trusted neighboring butcher who also has expansion plans and who shares most of the same customers.

New Location

The readymade cakes come in 3 different sizes: full cakes, slices, or mini slices. The full cakes run from 25,000-50,000 L.L., slices for about 2,250 L.L./each and the mini’s come on a platter for 24,000 L.L. The mini’s are an assortment of bitesized versions of the larger slices and are a good choice if you’re bringing dessert to a house dinner.

Recommendation for full cake: The Concerto.

Recommendation for slice:

Being that dahieh is a religious area, the cakes have no alcohol flavoring in them yet they have rich flavor – maybe it’s their awesomesauce extract. There’s something magical because everyone seems hooked and the only time that it seems to be empty is lunchtime during the month of Ramadan.

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Bambi’s Boxes, Part II.

Dresses at sea

The second installment from Bambi’s Boxes features the Piaff vitrines designed by conceptual artist, Najla El Zein. First off, Piaff, a clothing store, is located near Gefinor on Clemenceau, after CMC on your righthand side – if you reach Downtown, you’ve gone too far.

From inside Piaff
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 This season’s displays are based on the structure of coral reefs. However, the constructed corals are made out of mini cocktail umbrellas. The multicolored umbrellas were shipped in to Lebanon but while constructing the display, they ran short. Instead of trashing the whole idea, voids were incorporated into the umbrella corals. It’s all very under-the-sea-where’s-my-margarita.

Umbrellas!

Gaps
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Najla El Zein had given a small talk once this spring about her work and conceptual designs which is mainly installations or abstract sculpture work. An “installation” is an artwork that has to be set-up or installed in 3D space. Her works include fluffy clouds, a giant head of hair and a big ball of welded spoons. The spoons, rightly titled “6302 Spoons”, has 6302 spoons melted into a teardrop womb-shaped ball that doubles as a wall lamp. It looks a bit like a metal version of the dripping goo that is Princess Daisy’s father in Super Mario Bros, the movie. You can check out more of El Zein’s work on her website.

El Zein has done work for Piaff before. She was also the designer behind their last window displays which were pinwheels that spun thanks to fans inside the store. This display was more interesting to see at night when the store was closed – the pinwheels spun and the dresses billowed in a vacated showroom/area. It was spooky and mesmerizing.

Pinwheels
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Dresses
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5 Random Acts of Kindness Done by Lebanese Strangers

Gary Lightbody of Snow Patrol – Byblos, Lebanon ’12

1. The Tfadal Invite

The phrase “tfadal/leh” is one that Gary Lightbody of Snow Patrol probably experienced when visiting Byblos this summer. During his concert, he told a story about how, when souvenir shopping in the Byblos souk, a dining shopkeeper asked him to join for dinner. It was a sweet story and the audience took pride in the we-are-so-hospitable-and-awesome moment. Upon reflection, this man probably said “tfadal” to Gary and it was translated as “join me.” This is not an untrue translation; however, foreigners don’t realize that this has become more of a common courtesy and less of a genuinely kind gesture. What the Lebanese don’t realize is that even this simple common courtesy is rare in other countries.

2. The Parallel Parking Assistant
This refers to strangers taking a good 10 minutes out of their day to help you parallel park in a tight spot. In Lebanon, a tight spot is any space that can fit your vehicle: legally, illegally, paved, unpaved, or unblocked by a broomstick in a cement block. Given that this RAK may happen frequently if you’re a female – meaning you’re in need of assistance because members of your gender are not to be trusted behind the wheel OR you’re in need of a knight in shining armor to help, gawking at you while insisting “you’re almost there, just a little bit more” – it is still nice to have an extra set of eyes to see the sidewalk that decided to relocate under your car when you weren’t looking. It was dark and it moved, I swear.

3. The M2addam Offer

When given a compliment, a common response is “Merci, m2addam” meaning “thanks, I present it to thee.” If taken literally, this means the person is saying you can HAVE whatever it is you just complimented. Now, I have never actually seen anyone take something that was m2addam but I would love to just to watch the reaction. “Hello America”, an Adel Imam movie from ’98, pokes fun at this: Imam’s character interacts with Americans who take him up on his offer leaving him stunned at their no-shame-I-just-scored-a-Rolex attitude.

4. The Wedding Motorcade Extra

Weddings in Lebanon are a grand affair. When the bride and groom drive off, a motorcade forms with a string of relative-packed cars honking their horns as the hazard lights blink indicating to all others in the ongoing traffic that the two people in the flower adorned rental just got hitched. Sometimes, a poor soul will get caught in between the motorcade. When this happens, people do one of two things:
1) make way and just wait for them to drive by like an ambulance parade
OR go with the fun option
2) join in, start honking like a maniac and just let everyone assume that they’re the annoying cousin that was invited because he helped get the discount at the reception venue.

5. The Habibi Turettes

“Habibi” is the Arabic equivalent to corazon, mi amore, cherie, my love, etc. The difference is that this endearment is applied to everyone. The guy making your shawarma sandwich will call you the same thing that your girlfriend/boyfriend calls you and it’s completely normal because this is Lebanon and we love you.