I am from the sleeting mountains that scrape down to the rough waves of the Mediterranean

From the graffiti walls that pave onto the destructed edifices of 1973

From the clicking heels that speed onto the rocky streets of Downtown Beirut

From the endless car honking and thumping heat echoing till dawn.

I am from the consistent mornings of waking up to freshly baked manakeesh(1).

From the foggy scent of shisha traced throughout swarming cafes

From oozing Turkish coffee pouring soothingly into the hands of its cravers at the balcony

From where mezze seals my stomach before the main dish even arrives.

I am from the multilingual greeting, "Hi! Kifak, ca va?"(2)

From the "yallah nil3ab da2 lee7a"(3)

From the "habibi" and "albe" and "to2burne"(4)

And from - "yiii n2atta3et il kahraba!"(5).

I am from where no job exists but doctors and engineers

From the Turkish soap operas I have to sit through with a sobbing Teta by my side

From the land of Rafic Al hariri and Gibran Khalili Gibran

From the eternal Cedar trees I look up to forever and on. 

(1) Manakeesh are popular Levantine pastries made of dough and topped with cheese, zaatar, ground meat, and other toppings.

(2) "Hi! How are you, fine?"

(3)"Come, let's play a deck of Lee7a!" - Lee7a is a popular card game in Lebanon

(4)"My dear, my heart, bury me."

(5)"Aw man! The electricity went off!"