Ho, Ho... Huh?

'Tis the season to be jolly, at least that's what the song says. I actually really like how everyone is so into the Christmas spirit here. I know that a lot of people get stressed over Christmas shopping, but I'm not one of them. I am an expert shopper. This year was a world record, even for me. Black Friday, laptop... BOOM! All shopping done in two hours.

You can't really online shop in Beirut. There were about two destinations where I could do my Christmas shopping: ABC Mall and downtown. I do miss the tacky decorations along Hamra Street, though, and the smell of roasted chestnuts on every corner intermingled with shawarma roasting and manakeesh baking. I don't know if they still do this, but they used to play Christmas carols through loud speakers all down the main road as people shopped or sat in cafes. It was a nice counter-balance to the constant 'toot' of car horns and people yelling out of car windows because of traffic.

Over here, we get the Tacky Christmas Light tours instead. I have to admit, they are a lot of fun. The lengths people go to to make their homes look like the North Pole threw up all over the place just to blind your retinas is really quite extraordinary. As for music, there's even an incredibly annoying festive radio station solely dedicated to playing carols (no, it does not make me roll my eyes; no, I did not just roll my eyes thinking about it). And of course, every mall in the country plays Christmas music while you shop. (Side Note: Mariah Carey must get tons of residual checks this time of year. All I want for Christmas? Stop hearing that song!!)

Because I am so thoughtful and considerate, I pick out my own gifts and send the wish lists out so others don't have to stress about what to give me. These gifts rarely work out for me though. Although I am a great in-real-life-shopper, my online shopping persona is not so effective. I look at things online and think, Ooh, this would look so cute on me. Click, item put on wish list. I put so many things on my wish list that I often forget what I picked. So, come Christmas morning, when I open up the present and see what's inside, I'm almost always like, 'Oh... this is um nice.'

This year, for example, I got red pants. I opened up the box and inside there were red pants. They made me think of Mr. B and his red pants, for which I constantly made (make, he still wears them) fun of him. I think I must've been drunk when I was picking them out because, WTF, Anissa? Red bloody pants! Never Sits Still was like, 'But you picked them'! I did a quick recover and immediately professed my love for them while trying to remember what the hell other questionable pieces of clothing I sent out as part of my disastrous wish list.

I soon found out. A pair of still-can't-determine-what-color-but-could-be-some-kind-of-beigy-grey pants with giant pockets down the middle of the thigh with huge shiny buttons. Because, you know, my thighs don't look large enough as they are, so let's add more material and bling to accentuate them even more. Tres chic. Surprise, surprise, don't remember those either, but apparently, 'They were on your wish list,' said another gift giver, who shall remain anonymous because she is awesome, and I did pick the hideous thigh enlargers, so it's totally not her fault.

Ok, so the moral of the story is Christmas is not about the gifts (yeah right, but had to put that in there to stave off hate mail or any chastising about the true meaning of the Christmas spirit, etc), and also don't do your own shopping online.

In fact, if you're in Beirut, head over to Spinneys (or any number of official resellers and pubs) and get yourself a few bottles of this instead! (Shameless plug for J2 Vodka, but it's my blog!) The best present you can give and the true 'spirit' of the holidays!

Merry Happy New Everything!


Follow me on Twitter @anissarafeh 

So Long, Farewell

So, this is my last Live From Lebanon... After 18 years of a journey full of ups and downs, I moved back to the United States. It was a tough decision, but one that has been in the pipelines for a while. Right now, I'm sitting in the closet of my nephew, which my sister converted into his homework station (I have usurped the poor kid's room until I get settled), and reminiscing about my last big move, the one that took me to Lebanon. It was a happy time back then, even though Beirut hadn't been even close to being rebuilt. But there was hope and optimism, and I was glad to be a part of it.

I lived with my grandmother and had a medium sized bedroom that my parents refurbished for me, because the old furniture had been there since the '50s. I put up two posters: one of Brad Pitt in 'Legends of the Fall' and one of 'Forrest Gump'. I had a little TV set with a VCR attached, a dressing table and an electric blue office chair that I never used and still don't know why I bought. My grandmother still has it and the posters are still up. I was studying at the American University of Beirut and typed all my papers on a laptop my dad gave me while sitting on my bed. I never folded my clothes and just threw them on the second bed, and my grandmother gave me a lecture about how I needed to be tidier so that I'd be a good homemaker when I got married. I still hate folding my clothes, but I'm not married so I guess it doesn't matter!

I got dysentery the first week I moved so after I recovered, I only drank Diet Coke for like six months. I also sustained myself on Kinder fingers and Cadbury Time Out bars when my grandmother was away, because I never cooked. Even though the elevator broke down for six months of the year I lived with her, and I had to go up and down the stairs a million times a day, I still gained weight because of all the chocolate I ate. I also walked to class everyday, except when it rained. I loved the smell of za'atar and tea in the mornings, and the hustle and bustle of Hamra actually gave me a sense of calm.

It didn't take me long to get used to the way of life in Beirut. I never completely conformed but always felt I was home. At first, the extended family were convinced I moved to Lebanon for a guy. They couldn't believe I would leave America, my parents and siblings just to come to AUB. But there was no guy. Just this crazy, wonderful, grating, charming town that I fell in love with. Through thick and thin for 18 years. But I like to think of myself as a lady, and a lady always knows when to make her exit.

So it's time for me to say goodbye to you, my beautiful Lebanon. But I leave behind my heart, and it will be here with you always.

Why 'Homeland' Sucks

The real Hamra Street

So I was a big fan of the show 'Homeland' on Showtime last season. I was so happy that the show won like a million Emmy's because of how good I thought it was. Then I started watching season two. OMG, what a disappointment. It only took the first episode to turn me off completely. Showing Beirut as some sort of slum was not only inaccurate but just oh so wrong.

Since when does every woman on Hamra Street sport a headscarf, and an unfashionable one at that? The wardrobe of the supposed Lebanese women looked like they were bought from 1960s Bums R Us, and Yes, We Are Terrorists for the guys. And the cars… the cars! Oh my! They were pre-civil war era wrecks! As if... please, we have more Porsche Cayennes per capita than any other city on earth (or at least, it feels that way).

Okay, so the country has many, many problems. This is not paradise, and we have a lot of political instability that I will not get into. But hello, we know how to dress and don't all walk around carrying AK47s. Believe it or not, we Lebanese prefer designer handbags and fancy cars to shot guns when it comes to accessories. 

It's so disappointing that one of my favorite shows had to resort to cliched stereotypes to get ratings. Just a little bit of research, or one search on Google images, would've given them some insight into how the real Lebanon looks. But no, instead we get shots that were actually filmed in the slums of Israel passing for Beirut.

I guess having gun-weilding terrorists roaming around Hamra Street appearing as an everyday occurrence is much more sellable if Beirut looks more like a set from 'Slumdog Millionaire.' I walk down Hamra all the time, and the only upsetting thing I ran into recently was the LL500 hike in the cost of my Starbucks coffee!

It would be great if the Lebanese joined in some sort of campaign to counter the offensive portrayal of our country on this show. I know we have bigger things to worry about, but still, that doesn't mean we should stay quiet about this. Yesterday, I read an article that the Lebanese government is planning on suing the producers of 'Homeland.' The tourism minister is apparently outraged by the image of a terrorist-filled Beirut. But I'm sure he's not going to do anything about it.

I can just imagine the conversation he had about the issue:

Minister: That show 'Homeland' sucks. Let's sue them.

Aide: Are you sure you want to do something that will benefit the country without any personal benefit for yourself?

Minister: You mean I won't get anything?

Aide: No, this will purely be an act for the better of Lebanon.

Minister: Oh, forget it then.

Hey, just because our government probably won't do anything about it, that doesn't mean that we shouldn't. I sent in a complaint to Showtime, and I encourage all of you to do the same. Let's take a stand for once. Click on the link below and DO SOMETHING!

https://cbsi.secure.force.com/CBSi/submitcase?template=template_sho&referer=sho.com&cfs=default&data