Melissa Hope Matlins

It’s funny how something as simple as swimming can really shed some light on a culture. In Beirut, we stayed at a perfectly lovely boutique style hotel. But the hotel pool, we were told, was “under renovation,” although it appeared from the view out of our hallway window that for all intents and purposes the construction of this pool had been halted.

It was August, and it was hot, so we figured the least we could do is watch other people swim. As we walked along the promenade by the sea, we observed two types of swimmers, those with plentiful resources, and those without.

Expensive beach clubs along the shoreline feature large pools, thumping techno music and women in bikinis. Not to mention that this particular club was ringed by some of the largest concrete bollards I had ever seen. I don’t think that they have a problem with shoreline erosion here, so I can only think that they must be expecting a pretty significant invasion by sea. But for now the party continues.

Most Beirutis were hanging out on the natural rock formations below the promenade, fishing, getting some sun, or daring each other to jump from rocks that are too high into water that is too shallow. By most Beirutis I mean men. The few women I saw out and about were sweltering in burkas on the shade free walkway.

Towards the end of the route, the promenade, which was mostly rock and sand to begin with, became entirely sand and a bit difficult to slog through. Nature seems to have reclaimed the shoreline of this part of the city, at least temporarily. At dusk, the view of the half-built skyline is  spectacular.