We drove back to the hotel and I rested. The team told me I’d need it because they were going to take me out for a night on the town, and it could be late. Having watched decades of American TV news, I was a little worried what a late night on the town in Beirut would be like. Wissam picked me up and we went for a coffee at a French bistro in an open-air mall in a hilly district overlooking the city. The stores were all French chains but the atmosphere was nice in that one had the feeling of being on the street. We sat for 30 minutes chatting about our children and the funny things they do. It was time to meet the crew.
We went downtown near the central Martyrs Square. Many small, crowded streets emanated from it. One, anchored by a very crowded French brasserie, held their many bars and nightclubs. It was hopping. We settled into a nightclub and got a table. There were a variety of bands on the schedule, ranging from Arab tribal music to a disco cover band. Whatever the music, the crowd drank and danced with a fervor that took me by surprise. It reminded me of the Israeli nightclubs in Los Angeles. I couldn’t help but to think how similar everyone is. Why couldn’t they see it? Or did they. I didn’t want to ask since I was not sure of the answer I would get. The crowd was full of Lebanese, Europeans, and at least 1 American. No one cared. They just wanted to have fun. It was a good, albeit late, night.
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