Daily Beirut

"Wahad Falafel , wahad shawarma "

" Tnein falafel, extra tahini"

Hadi did not speak a word of Arabic but knew that it was time for a break and that the word "wahed" meant one.

He has been walking all morning under the Beirut sun and his head was starting to notice the absence of a hat rather painfully when his stomach started growling upon hearing the word falafel. His stomach was always more aware of his surroundings than his conscious brain was… it knew they were in the land of the holy grail of Arabic vegetarian sandwiches.

Falafel was not in principle new to him, He had already tasted it in a Lebanese restaurant in Paris, years ago while on mission there. But he knew he was going to enjoy his food here way more. Everything feels better in its natural habitat.

Ordering two servings, he stood amidst a group of hungry men observing the sandwich-maker deftly wrapping warm Lebanese bread around three golden brown falafel that were just plucked out of the boiling oil and then drenched with a white sauce and garnished with a variety of vegetables and what looked like pink colored pickles. His excitement must have been visible because the guy smiled up at him and held out a hot perfectly round piece of falafel wrapped in sandwich paper and said in broken english : for you !

Biting into that piece of deliciousness without thinking twice Hadi thought that Lebanese people were definitely hospitable!

A couple of streets away Damar was bargaining.

- Are you kidding me ?

- No… these apples are at 90 thousand pounds the kilo.

- Dear Lord why??? Were they brought down to earth from heaven directly by Adam himself?

But Damar's sarcasm had no effect on the shopkeeper. Who smiled but shrugged. She did not like it. Those who came up with the word " hangry" clearly knew what they were talking about!

Yeah there was a crisis and the banks have robbed people blind but prices were unjustifiably rising, simply because the government does not care enough… ( she stopped herself from going overboard with the political analysis… and reminded herself : Fooooood)

She bought two apples ( only half a kilo) , some white cheese and bread. Sighing at the ridiculousness of her current situation. she had savings to last her for years but the bank was refusing to give her her own money…

Akhhhhh now is no time to wallow is self pity… We could either be patient or fight back or both.

- she put her groceries in her backpack and refused the plastic bag the shopkeeper offered her. The country had already an ginormous waste management crisis on top of it all and she was not going to add to it.

Mentally counting how much money she still had left and wether she could afford to take a cab to her place, Damar put her headphones and shades back on. Using one hand to hold the phone and look for her favorite Arabic rap playlist , she carried in the other one an apple rubbing it on her jeans before sinking her teeth into its flesh.

Mmmm ....it was the perfect combination of juicy and crunchy. At least, that was not a waste of money.

Her ears enjoying the music, her lips busy with their new victim, she did not hear the shopkeeper call her… She closed her eyes trying to decide whether to pay for that cab back home when she felt a tap on her shoulder and jumped in reaction dropping the apple and opening her eyes wide in surprise.

- your money Mademoiselle! you forgot your change!

She grabbed the bills he handed her and went after the expensive apple that started rolling down the street!

Hadi reached the hotel soaking wet, with sweat . He was in a hurry to wash and sit in the calm of his room to enjoy his sandwiches before they got soggy, when a sweet smell tackled his senses… a mix of mmm… what he thought was probably melon and bananas.

He had noticed upon his arrival, while conducting his quick security check, he noticed the nearby tiny shop displaying beautiful, almost- too- full crates of fruits and made a note to get some as desert.

"Well- he thought to himself- now is as good a time as any " and headed towards the shop thinking that he would like to try Lebanese grapes, when he heard the word : Shhhhhiiiiiiitttt in English, loud and clear and saw what seemed like a woman lunge at him then quickly bend at his feet to pick…what? an apple ? Yes an apple that apparently rolled its way towards him.

the woman was too fast for him to act the gentleman and pick her or the rogue fruit up. Mumbling what sounded like a quick sorry , she lifted her head towards him and all he could see was his own reflection on her big dark glasses . Before he could even reply, she stood up turned her back to him and left and while he stood there staring at her backpack and at the biggest pair or red headphones he had ever seen, wondering how they managed to remain in place and not slide over such a tiny little head.

Biiiiiiiip… a Moped's horn screeched in his ear, cutting his line of thoughts without mercy. In Beirut, it was not unusual to see people driving their motorcycles on sidewalks zigzagging between pedestrians! Sighing, he moved out of the way and made a note not to ever loose focus in this city.

Plopping a fat grape in his mouth he asked the shopkeeper to give him one kilo of both the white and red kind. On his left, golden apples were shining as a playful ray of sun licked each one of them on the face … he smiled. Maybe they were worth the lady's sprint after all.

- One kilo of apples too please.

Damar decided to take a cab after all, at the risk of her wallet losing further weight. She was running late and still had to pack some clothes from her apartment before heading back to her aunt's place.

She settled in the car and informed the driver :Ashrafieh, Sassine.

She had not even had time to arrange her her when the track stopped playing in her headphones.Oh, her manager was calling!

- Hey Roy… before you ask I have not started working on the new chapter yet . I needed to move in with my aunt for longer...

- Damar, take a breath I am just calling to check on you.

- oh?

-Hhhahaha, you sound surprised.

- Well… Damar joked.

- Ok, you got a point... but there are riots next to the central Bank and I was wondering whether you were in Hamra I know you like to take your coffee there while working.

Damar paid the driver and got out of the car.

- Actually Roy , I just barely left Hamra. I am packing some stuff from my appart and then I ll go back to my aunt's

- Do I need to come pick you up ?

- no no thank you ! It's just a few items I am getting and then I will go back to my translation : I promise.

- Damar forget work for now. I am coming.

- No please Roy. It really is not worth it. I will call you when I am back. ciaoooo

She hung up the molent the janitor appeared and came running towards her.

- Hello Abou Farid.

- Hello, Mam. There is …

-Yeah Abou Farid I know… I got your money.

It was time to pay him and pay the private generator's electricity bill he took care of too.

The janitor smiled his toothless smile and said: you are the only one who pays on time.

- Humph… what no electricity???

- No mam, replied Abou Farid. The " Public" electricity hasn't been on for three weeks now and the generator's owner is refusing to turni it on before 5 pm. "He said oil prices are up so we either pay more or we settle with less electricity time …all of the neighbours said they could not afford more…sooo"

- "what a piece of scum.." , Damar cursed as she started climbing the stairs to her 7th floor apartment. …" pay more or get less? there is another option too you donkey , she muttered as if addressing the invisible generator owner- you could make less money too. God forbid you thieves feel anything akin to empathy with the poor!

Breathless from her 7 floors trip, she opened the door of her apartment… and her a loud gasp.

She did not even notice it came from her own throat as she took in the ugly scene facing her:

Her apartment, her last safe haven, have been ransacked into an unrecognizable state of mess. Her clothes, her books, her paintings, everything lay on the floor as if trampled by a horde of angry elephants! it was an ugly heartbreaking mess...

Like an automaton moving from one room to another she took in the horror of the crime scene and felt her legs suddenly give way as she crumbled to the ground …

- Roy, I need to call Roy….

And she started silently crying.