Lebanon is the third country I’ve lived in as a financially independent adult, and I think my conclusion after having moved around a bit is this: the hardest thing for me about starting over in a new country is starting over. And with that I mean, there are rituals that I’ve created and built my enjoyment around in one country that are impossible to recreate in another. I can make new friends, I can discover new cafes and restaurants, I can settle into a new job, a new neighborhood — those things have never been a problem. What I can’t do is recreate my comfort rituals. For the first month I’m usually too preoccupied with discovering the great things about my new home that I hardly feel like I miss anything about my previous one, but the initial stimulation wears off and I’m left grieving the loss of ritual.
For example, I’m intensely missing autumn. This was always my preferred season in Sweden, and as the nights grew longer I would light candles, bake bread or cinnamon rolls and listen to Ella Fitzgerald sing Cole Porter on the stereo. I just can’t do that here. Even as I write this, I’m listening to Ella Fitzgerald, and it’s just not the same. I’m not getting the feels. And I miss the feels.
Another favorite ritual was to take brisk walks to my favorite pier, sometimes with a friend, sometimes by myself. The air was crisp and clean and marvelous. I would sit on the edge of that pier for hours.
Nothing about Beirut’s air is crisp or clean. Also, there’s really nowhere I can go in this city to take a brisk walk among trees. It’s strange; I never cared that much about trees…and then I moved here, and suddenly I’m lamenting the loss of trees in my life, ha ha. (To be clear, the rest of Lebanon has lots of trees, but Beirut has concrete).
So the challenge is to create new rituals that keep my melancholy soul fed and nurtured. I very much enjoy sitting on my balcony watching the light shift and sipping fresh mint tea. I already know I’m going to miss this when I leave Lebanon. I’ve also found a delightful cafe/wine bar that I intend to spend many hours in, both with friends and in solitude.
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| Isn't this wine wall sublime? |
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| ...and this corner perfect for reading or typing away on my laptop? |
I've kept up my tradition of making pancakes on Saturday mornings, although this particular practice has increased exponentially in price as maple syrup is a spendy import. I may have to limit that ritual to once a month (unless someone wants to come visit me and bring a jug of maple syrup…?). Next is figuring out how to operate my gas oven. I’ve been as yet reticent to turn on the gas and start lighting matches as there’s no button I can push that lights the stove automatically, and I'd rather not perish in a gas explosion if I can help it. I've never used a gas oven before, so I may have to go through a few batches of brownies before I get the hang of it (but when have gooey brownies ever been a problem for humanity?).
Thankfully, the one ritual I can reproduce anywhere is blogging. :)
