I wish I live in a place that is quieter than here, like Tralee or Sighisoara, where even though they might have problems of their own, they don’t carry the weight of a country.
They don’t spend their days thinking of ways to feed the millions of hungry, or ways to protect themselves from the theft of traders and corruptions of politicians, or days of no electricity and water. They don’t carry a nation on their skinny backs as we do; they don’t count the coins in their pockets and hope they can pay for the eggs at breakfast. They don’t worry about traffic or roadblocks or motorcades and convoys passing by.
I was reading an article about the “corruption” of Sighisoara. The ex-director of the Prince of Wales Foundation is explaining how corrupt Sighisoara is because of a club operating illegally with “protection” near her house.
Whenever everything gets too much, I read that article, and it soothes me. A city’s biggest problem is a club that keeps the music loud until 4 am. There is something comforting about knowing that, even though no life is perfect and there are always obstacles anywhere, some problems are just smaller than others.
And this is what I dream of for Lebanon. I stopped dreaming of reform, or hope, or an ideal world where we have trains and social security for the elderly; I simply dream of lesser problems.
I dream of waking up in my debt-free apartment, having my morning walk on the cobblestone street, and seeing a neighbor not cleaning her dog’s litter. I dream of reporting my neighbor to the police station nearby and the police taking action instantly. The police would fine the lady for not preserving the cleanliness of my city.
I dream of having this as my only problem of the week. I tell it to all my friends on a Sunday brunch and an evening with family. I don’t dream of a Lebanon without any problems; I just dream of simpler ones.
I know I always romanticize Beirut, and I love it with all my heart, but I’m so tired. I’m so tired of all the weight Beirut throws at me. I am so fed with the dirtiness and the debris of it all; I just want a simple city.
I enjoy reading articles on Malta’s economy and Brasov’s restaurants, and the art festivals of Lodz. I thirst for this simplicity and these mini problems. I am so tired of this unapprehended chaos.