A 2008 Lebanon Travel Diary

In May, my wife and I traveled to Lebanon for my cousin's wedding. It was an amazing time to be in Beirut, where Hezbollah reached a peace deal with the government days before our arrival. It was also an amazing wedding, and a week of crazy festivities. I hope this account may offer a little enlightenment about the Middle East.

PART I - A PEACEFUL LEBANON

We originally scheduled six days because we didn't want to stay too long and risk being trapped in the ongoing violence and political chaos. In the end, we could have spent a month there enjoying the beaches and bustle of a wonderful, peaceful city.

From the relative comfort and safety of U.S. soil, Beirut vacations always seem a dicey proposition. This spring was particularly bad. Many sources in the country called the violence in May the most dangerous situation since the end of the Lebanese civil war.

However, days before our arrival, Lebanon's governing parties reached a peace deal. As a fairly uninformed outsider, the peace talks seemingly amounted to the country's weak political parties trying to talk the so-called "terrorist group" Hezbelloh out of another civil war. It worked. Hezbollah militants put down their guns, and their more peaceful members abandoned their downtown protest camps.

On our first full day in Lebanon, we visited the site of the former downtown encampment, which had been scrubbed clean and lined with beautiful flowerpots. Businesses had also opened, and people were happily wandering the streets. The area was busier and buzzing with excitement, hope and energy. "We all thank you Qatar" was written in Arabic on advertising signs throughout Beirut a week after Qatar helped broker the peace deal.

I was born in Beirut to a Lebanese Armenian mother in the first month of the civil war in 1975. Needless to say, I have long followed news from Beirut with keen interest. This summer, for the first time, I felt optimistic about Lebanon's long-term chances of peace and prosperity.

It's up to Lebanon, its neighbors and meddling foreign powers to maintain the calm on the Beirut streets. Put me in the Michael Moore blame-America-first club if you want, but I have to say I hope the U.S. government doesn't screw this up.

Syria and Israel are now banished to minor roles in Lebanon. A consistently tenuous and perhaps impossible constitutional arrangement seems to be working. Perhaps most important, many Lebanese are tired of fighting. The country is functioning peacefully for perhaps the first time since I was born. But this fragile peace is based largely on meeting Hezbollah's demands, which doesn't please the Bush administration. Hezbollah is guilty of terrorist acts, and it has a principal stated aim of destroying Israel. But there is more to the story than anti-semitism and terror. The group provides comfort, aid and services in Lebanon and is a popular political movement in what is largely a power vacuum.

Lebanese leaders have tried several tacks through the rough political waters of a multiparty, religiously balanced democracy in the Middle East. Many have failed. The U.S. needs to stand back and let them try making a coalition government with Hezbollah.

PART II - WHAT A PARTY

I don't make a habit of watching royal weddings or checking out celebrity wedding photos in US Weekly, but I'm pretty sure those nuptials aren't as fabulous as my cousin Lucy Ann's wedding to Pierre. And I know the guests don't feel nearly as welcome at the paparazzi weddings (though, not to be outdone, there was a newsmagazine society page photographer clicking away at Lucy Ann's reception).

My cousin welcomed us at the airport - makeup and hair extensions well in place - to meet us and whisk us off to the first pre-wedding party. She wasn't the only person who greeted us at the airport. As we walked toward the customs and immigration desks, a uniformed officer was calling out for "Mrs. Gostanian." That was my mom's last name until 39 years ago, when she became Mrs. Graham. It took her a second to recognize the name, say yes, and follow him to a separate desk. We nervously went with her. In the U.S., a uniformed officer taking you aside at the airport is never a good thing.

We weren't in the U.S.

He took our passports, stamped them, welcomed us to Lebanon in perfect English and led us past all the lines and out to our waiting entourage.

In addition to the radiant bride was my loving uncle and my mom's two best friends from our Indonesia days. Denise Boustani and Mona Ajam had gifts and warm hugs for all of us, even though they weren't even there to pick us up. They had driven an hour just to meet us and turn around to go home.

We had other plans.

Christine and my sister, Shevan, got their first taste of Beirut with Lucy Ann driving to the hotel for a quick change, then back across the city for the first of four pre-wedding parties. For better or worse, during the week, they missed the heart-stopping ... um ... thrill of riding with my other cousin, Avo. Anyway, this first wedding event was advertised as a barbecue but bore little resemblance to a backyard weenie roast. It was on a swanky apartment building rooftop overlooking the city. The downtown area was to the north, and the building is sandwiched between two fine hotels - a quiet, safe tourist-heavy part of town, I thought. Then the host oriented us to the scenery, including the street directly south, which is full of lights and tall buildings. He told us several of the month's gunfights were on that street.
Not that we could tell now. The street was quiet, and the rooftop was not.

The party was essentially a welcome and mixer for the younger generation on the wedding guest list. But even this low-key event saw a full open bar, a bigger catering spread than our entire wedding and fancy dresses aplenty.

I quickly learned yet another advantage to being male - in Lebanon, we can wear jeans and t-shirts in public at any time. Women need at least one new dress for each event, let alone the hours spent at the hair salon, the manicurist and the makeup artist. Granted, the jeans are ideally pricey, pre-ripped designer jobs and the shirts are fitted, glittery and won't be found at Target or the Salvation Army, where I do most of my shopping.

After a full day of sightseeing and history (more on that in another blog entry), we hit the second night of pre-wedding parties. When I say family dinner at a seafood restaurant, don't think Red Lobster. The chain (and there probably is an outlet in Beirut - plenty of American chains are somehow attracting diners away from fantastic felafel, kebab and tabouleh) has nothing on this fantastic seaside oasis. We had three large tables on a large open-air deck literally on the Mediterranean. I could have spent the whole week right at that spot, but I would have put on about 50 pounds eating all the fantastic fish, salads, fruit and other delicacies. Probably the best meal of the week, but that's no easy call.

The next night brought the bachelor and bachelorette party. My wife gushed about the glamorous "Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous" bachelorette party. By handshake agreement, all I can say about the bachelor party is that we went to Excalibur.

The final pre-game show was a fabulous rehearsal dinner that took over an entire restaurant. I can't say much about the event because it coincided with the beginning of 36 hours running from bed to toilet to remind me I no longer have the stomach of steel I developed in Indonesia - a bacterial infection that was the only lousy part of my Lebanon trip.

OK, so finally to the main event. Sorry for the long buildup, but I had to offer a taste of the whole weeklong blowout. I had some hint of the extravaganza when I saw three still cameras and two video crews - including a boom larger than most movie crews. They captured the entire beautiful wedding in the Armenian church. They were also ready at the ornate hotel ballroom to film the reception. Hopefully they captured part of the elaborate production.

About a dozen costumed dancers circled the stage in Victorian era costumes and masks, dancing and leading the proud, beautiful and perfect bride and groom into the reception. Also, in case anyone forgot the woman in the stunning, flowing white number was the bride, there was also a fog machine and roman candles announcing her arrival. As the couple smiled and twirled through their first dance, Lucy Ann did a fantastic job of making eye contact with every guest in the room, and making them feel like the guest of honor.

I later found out the dancing troupe is standard fare for a Beirut wedding - kind of like the Lebanese "Chicken Dance."

The troupe returned after dinner - after a complete costume change - with more smoke and sparklers to lead out the bride and groom again to cut a big cake with a bigger sword. Despite the tall bar set by the professional twirlers, most of the guests made their way to the dance floor for at least some of the band's mix of Western, Arabic and Armenian jams.

The food was great, though somewhat wasteful because most everyone I saw was already full before the second main course was served, and most had sampled the forty other desserts before Pierre and Lucy Ann cut the cake.

It was easily the most lavish and extravagant wedding I have ever attended. I have very fond memories of our simple wedding that we organized and designed to reflect our personalities. At the same time, my dad summed up the evening when he turned to my mom to ask, "Did we even get married?"