November 2025: is this Noah's July?
But it only flooded for one day
These last few years in Beirut have made me afraid to be excited about possibility and opportunity. It’s not because of the country’s instability or evil neighbor - at least not directly - but more about how so many promising projects have crumbled since I opted out of the conventional employment route. I’ve tried to invent consulting roles with small businesses I admire but I won’t speculate as to why those didn’t come to be. I’ve been open to working in wine-adjacent avenues too but almost all of those didn’t make it beyond the ideation phase either.
I keep coming back to the saying rejection is protection. I’ve seen proof of that with other things that haven’t worked out in the past. With time, I saw the flops as blessings. In hindsight, most of these “opportunities” would’ve taken me off course. As I’m sure I’ve said before, I don’t share this for anyone’s pity but rather to show that the creative path can be a party but it can also be littered with deflating balloons. You’re forced to extinguish the self-doubt that ignites within. I’ve learned how to throw darts to clear the way faster. I need to make my own way to the dance floor.
With all that said, I’ve had some recent wins. I started working as a part-time research assistant with a former mentor. I’m also planning a screening of my short, Buffer Zone, with the Anthropology Society in Lebanon (ASIL). It’s taken a year to make this film even though I only started working on it in May. I say that because last Sunday* marked one year since we found out my grandparents’ house was wired up and detonated by the Israelis and since then, I’ve been wrapping my head around what that means as the patient still lies open-chested on the OR table.
*We still don’t know the exact date it happened but the 16th was the first time I noticed it wasn’t in the latest photo that had escaped the confines of a smartphone on the border. I was the one who had to tell my dad, I don’t see the house.
Artist-writer
shared some writing advice from Denis Johnson, who I don’t know, but the advice applies to people of the region perhaps more literally than Johnson would ever know: write in exile, as if you are never going to get home again, and you have to call back every detail.Last week, we had to request permission from UNIFIL (i.e. Israel) so that my dad’s cousin could access my grandparents’ lot. He was escorted and supervised by UNIFIL and the Lebanese army (LAF) just so we could retrieve the uprooted pines that were left next to the rubble of the house. They’ll be chopped into lumber but who knows what state they’re in after the last two years of weather, fire, and continued shelling. All week, my back has felt tightly wound like a sailor’s knot of muscles. I don’t know whether to blame my period, the shorter days, or the Zionist state.
The other night, I was at a talk where a farmer introduced herself to the audience with a unique way of distinguishing where in the South she operated. “It’s the beginning of the South, not the phosphorus South, thank god,” she said and I felt my jaw tighten.
“Keeping the Land Alive: Farmers on the Front Line of the War Over Southern Lebanon’s Borderlands” by Dana Hourany for The Public Source
I’ve thought a lot about the nuances of differentiating the South with a capital S versus using “southern Lebanon” but, like Gaza and Palestine, the specificity of geographic language is sometimes necessary. However, that separation within the South was a first and while I don’t think it was there was any ill intent in the label, it made me interrogate an added layer to this fragmentation of Lebanon. There is not only (the South) and (the rest of the country) but the South is also split into (the South) and (its borderlands). It’s disheartening but sadly it is important to be precise as the impact is not uniform and the distinction is not strictly about the State’s neglect, the area’s sacrifice, or Israel’s destruction. The borderlands are closely linked to Palestine and Al-Jalil (obvious in commonalities like dialect, landscape, and cuisine) because of sheer proximity. Still, I wish that being tainted by phosphorus wasn’t the adjective used to mark that variation. We went from being known for certain crops to being known for a lack of any.
Another woman there told us about Georgette, an interviewee she’d met, who had wanted to go check on her trees during the escalation of last year.
Georgette had said, “they’ve been left alone for a long time, I wonder how they’re feeling.” My eyes went glossy and in that moment, I wished I’d stayed home. I thought working on my film had given me armor against this type of thing but I’m still finding its chinks unexpectedly.
The Israelis - and the Americans - continue to taunt us with a “second round of war” as a fear tactic. They shake their index finger at us like a parent commanding obedience or else. Submit faster or else. Normalize or else. But when we are already under Israeli fire daily, when our borders are being pushed, when our southern villages are occupied remotely, and when there has been no “retaliation” from Lebanon for close to a year, how are we the threat? How can we submit more? Why should we?
- “How Israel is laying the groundwork for ethnic cleansing in southern Lebanon” by Hicham Safieddine for Middle East Eye
- “Rehabilitation of the Post-war Agricultural Sector in Lebanon” by Nour Nahhas for Amwaj Alliance
- "How Israel is using ‘no war, no peace’ Lebanonisation model in Gaza” by Justin Salhani for Aljazeera
It’s Lebanon’s Independence Day and clips of our president reiterating his acquiescence to the Israelis have been circulating. He’s essentially telling them, we’re ready to take over when you are ready to leave. Meanwhile, others had been posting about the registration deadline for diaspora voters. I’ve lost faith in changing the system from the inside —a far cry from where I was a few years ago. I don’t know where that leaves me but I’m currently baking blueberry muffins while Noah Cyrus plays and the temperature is back up to 30*C. Clearly, denial is everyone’s friend today.
ADD TO YOUR CALENDAR
📌 FRIDAY, NOV 27th - 7pm
Launch of the bilingual 9th issue of Al-Rawiya, their first one in print, at Souk el Tayeb, Mar Mikhael - I contributed an essay on lahm bi’ajeen
📌 TUESDAY, DEC 16th - 6:30pm
A screening and discussion of my film, Buffer Zone, with ASIL (Anthropology Society in Lebanon) at Arab Image Foundation, Hamra
Aanab News - for the rest of 2025: Next up are a Lebanese holiday gift guide, the November track+field recap, and the December dispatch (the monthly newsletter like this one). I’m combining Q3 and Q4 into one long Bulletin that’ll drop on December 23rd, inshallah. Aanab News 2025 Wrapped will follow on the 30th, and the last track+field recap of 2025 will go out on the 31st.
POPCORN IN MY TEETH
I found 84 Charing Cross Road while flipping through Netflix and I hit play because 1) it’s an 80s movie I’d never heard of, 2) it had an impressive cast (Anne Bancroft, Anthony Hopkins, and an unrecognizable Judi Dench) and 3) a cute description: A New York writer initiates a book-ordering correspondence with a London bookshop, which evolves into a touching and humorous friendship over 20 years.
It’s cozy, bittersweet, and an instant favorite for a snail-mail lover like myself. The film is based on an epistolary memoir of the same title by Helene Hanff. You can borrow a copy on Internet Archive.
AT LEAST 10 LITTLE LINKS
My Vittles essay from last year was selected as a finalist for the AMEJA Awards. I didn’t win but it gave me a high for a few days because this is an award I’d be very proud of.
I watched GTD’s Frankenstein and while I have my reservations, it’s still a gorgeous thing to watch. In fact, I’m already itching to watch it again to find things I missed the first time. The costumes though, ouf. Every time I read or see del Toro say anything, I love his weird brain even more. I loved this read on the film from Billie Walker for Atmos.
“Food as the language of occupation” by Mouna Madanat for Shado Mag
“…Gaza, today, has shattered the illusion that stability in Lebanon, the region, and the world can exist within an order sustained by capital accumulation. There is no possibility of real life where profit depends on the continuous extraction of that life and the dehumanization of those whose who transmute their grief into a mode of becoming, of those whose grief fights to save what can be saved.”
- a must-read: “The Dining Table and the Drone“ by Wassila Abboud for Parapraxis
Just in case you were feeling happy today: According to a study published in The Lancet, “the frequency of new cancer cases in Lebanon has increased by an astounding 162% from 1990 to 2023, with cancer-related deaths increasing by 80% over that same period. In 2023, for every 100,000 people in the country, there were 233.5 new cancer cases.” - from NPR
Al-Rawiya, Roads & Kingdoms, and even the dating app Feeld are turning to print. The return to analog is in full swing.
I can’t believe I never noticed the wallpaper and color scheme throughout a classic Christmas rewatch like Home Alone but I guess it was just that good??
I loved the “No Husband. No Kids. No Regrets.” episode from The Financial Diet’s Just Getting Good series.
PENNY FOR YOUR THOUGHTS
I love 84 Charing Cross Road - I have a copy and even used some quotes in our wedding! Great piece as always ❤️