Many moods of Lebanon

Landing in Lebanon, or any country for that matter, when the rain is pouring so hard it\'s difficult to see anything clearly, is a turn-off. Coming from dreary London to an even drearier and sodden Lebanon seemed like the worst idea ever. Should have visited just Paris, I thought to myself — our journey from London had included a one-hour stopover in Paris. Our luggage came out utterly drenched and my husband and I ran into the car, trying our best not to get wet. I wondered how skiing would ever be possible in this weather. En route to our destination, Faraya, we were suddenly told that the roads were closed. \"Too much snow. There\'s a storm,\" our driver said. And so my already dampened, exhausted mood was now fraught with frustration. \"Seriously, we should have just done Paris,\" I said. An hour later we reached our friend Mohammad\'s house, welcomed and taken down into the basement area, a beautiful cave-like haven of warmth, rain streaming outside, transforming what seemed like an extensive view of hills into a blur of murky green and blue. Beige cut stones were aesthetically put together to make six symmetrical low-ceiling domes, under which were couches, a dining table and an empty area saved perhaps for a Lebanese poet or singer to perform. This setting was inspiring enough to possibly lift my spirits, given a little time, of course. And so a couple of hours later — during which time I was gritting my teeth — I was, let\'s just say, happier. Indian dinner parties I was used to, but at a house in Lebanon, up in the hills, amid an eclectic crowd of Emiratis and Lebanese, listening to the interesting collaboration of Arabic and English and discussing Lebanese music, trying not to fall asleep, the young Fatima speaking about her university and future plans, her two brothers intent on video games in one of the corners, and chatting to a new friend Rahma about London and the Harrods sales, and, of course, a twopence worth of my exhaustion, all while eating delectably fresh fattoush, tabbouleh, hummus and the rest of the local fare, was quite the cultural experience, one that doesn\'t compare to sitting in a hotel somewhere, which I would have otherwise been doing. And more than all of this, it was the way they welcomed us into their home, making us feel so entirely at ease about being there, about having to stay there one night, the grandmother\'s shock at why we did not have children included. And then, some ten hours on, the morning revealed a stunning verdant landscape, hills strewn with houses and a glimmer of sun. I sipped on Turkish coffee and let the calm of the outdoors, at odds with last night\'s insanity, warm me. C\'est la vie. — For more from Meera Ashish log on to www.talefourcities.com