Part III: Beirut Revisited

I wanted to make a separate part for describing Beirut, because some of the things that I wanted to describe are much different than much of part two. I was deeply impacted by my initial experience in Beirut, even on the way back from the airport. Because of this, I was looking forward to returning to the city and learning more about it as a whole. We spent the day exploring the streets and visiting the National Museum. The type of outing was quite different than my initial experience, one that was focused more on the major attractions like Martyr's Square, the luxury shopping centers, or the Lebanese parliament. However, there were still moments where we were reminded of what life could truly be like here.

A typical view of the main highway that ran from the village near our monastery into Beirut. The truck pictured on the right is a typical Northern Lebanese cargo truck, one that is painted in bright colors and decorated with sayings from the Quran.

This is Martyr's Square, the main square in Beirut. The sign on the left is a remnant of a 2019 uprising of the Lebanese people to protest the corruption and inefficiency of their government. People camped out in the square for days on end, facing tear gas and riot police. This "revolution," as the Lebanese call it, seemed to be making positive change until August of 2020.

Built in the 1980s, the nicest part of downtown Beirut is quiet. Though the lowest levels are occupied by luxury stores like Chanel and Dior, the upper levels are closed up tightly. Though the upper levels are meant for apartments, the quiet atmosphere suggests that no one lives there.

These are some of. the decorated barricades that stand outside the car entrance to the Parliament. There are still thick layers of razorwire dividing the parliamentary buildings from the general public, a precaution kept up since the protests of 2019. When we began to wander through the entrance pictured behind us, we were quickly warned to turn around and come back. Our friends Valerie and Tom stopped to pose for a quick photo though.

The site of the Blast in Beirut Port.

One of the most solemn sites in Beirut is not an official one; there is no signage or viewing areas. We pulled onto the side of the highway in the afternoon heat, with thirty people standing near a cement guard rail and looking out at the site of one of the largest tragedies experienced in Lebanon. On August 4th 2020, a large amount of ammonium nitrate being stored in the port of Beirut exploded, causing over two hundred deaths and leaving hundreds of thousands homeless. Despite the explosion being one of the most powerful accidental non-nuclear explosions in history, the death toll was relatively low. One of the reasons for this was a large silo that was built next to the explosion site. The silo stayed partially intact despite the explosion, shielding large sections of the city from the effects of the blast. Today, the only physical reminder of the blast is this same silo, which was left standing as a memorial to the tragedy that occurred there.

Speaking to the Lebanese about the blast is difficult. In one community member's presentation about the history of Lebanon, an explanation of the blast was entirely omitted. The presenter said that even looking at photos of the blast and its aftermath was too painful for them to bear presenting in front of a group. The only comparable event I could compare the Blast to in American culture would be the terrorist attacks of 9/11. If you ask any Lebanese person, they could tell you exactly where they were when they heard the blast. Because of how small the country is, the blast was heard from every part of Lebanon. For those living in the city, they describe the fear and confusion they felt when every single window in their home shattered. Two years later, the direct cause of the explosion is still unknown. Though the physical explanation has been discovered, the true source of the fire that ignited the ammonium nitrate has not. Many suspect terrorist activity, some suspect it came from enemies across the borders. Either way, the lack of closure for the event is extremely troubling for the Lebanese people as a whole.

A small piece of a larger artwork that was displayed on the street in downtown Beirut. This portrait is part of a series depicting the victims of the Beirut Blast, with small messages scrawled around their heads. Some are depicted crying, others screaming in anger. It was difficult not to stop every time we saw one, but there were too many to be able to even find all of them. The art perfectly described the feelings that I noticed in many Lebanese, particularly the ones who were my age. They are torn between a need to help their country from love and fidelity, and a need to survive and find a future for themselves. There is also anger and frustration at the government, and a deep grief experienced for everything their country has gone through in the past decades.

Though I was not staying in Lebanon on a long-term basis, the time I spent there deeply impacted my view not only of the world as a whole, but my understanding of the Church, especially in its complexity in the Middle East. Though I will not be returning to Lebanon as soon as I would like to, I am currently organizing an immersion experience in Lebanon for other young Americans. This experience is meant for immersion in a different culture, but more importantly for growth in relationship with God and encounter with His Church as culturally expressed in Lebanon. My mission for this year is to bring young people, specifically Americans, into contact with a God who loving and truly universal through experiences abroad. We do not allow financial obstacles to hold possible participants back, and we strive to keep pilgrimages affordable for all. If you have not yet made a donation towards this mission, I invite you to consider supporting me. Giving details can be found on the "Financial Support" tab. If you would like to support the house in Lebanon especially, please visit Beatitudes Missions' website.