It is no secret to anyone who reads this blog that I am a big fan of Beirut. I cannot put my finger on what it is exactly but something about this city is familiar enough to make me feel at ease, but just foreign enough to make me feel alive and aware and like each day has a bit of adventure waiting for me.

Sure there are the inconveniences: the electricity cuts, the insane driving, the humidity which seems to be creeping higher everyday, but these are things I can live with. There is also the constant undertone of unease from a city which has spent many recent years under war conditions.  And the tense feelings of a country that has serious fighting going on just across the border.  These things keep daily life from being completely easy and carefree for the average Beruti, but it does not stop them from trying to get the most out of life.    Through art, through music, through fast cars or an easy late night game of backgammon.

But there is one thing about this city that has bothered me from day one and I’ve been hesitating to write about it. Mostly because I know that there is little I can do to change the way things are. It is the situation with the foreign workers here in Beirut. The Ethiopian and Filippino maids and nannies, the Indian, Bangladeshi and Sri Lankan garbage collectors, the (what I’m guessing is) Nigerian, Kenyan and Sudanese kitchen workers.  My problem is not so much that they are doing these jobs, but that I have never seen them doing any other type of work.

I cannot fault someone for leaving their homeland to find work in a new country either to send money to their families back home or to find a better standard of living.  I’m sure that being a caretaker for an elderly woman in the Achrafieh neighborhood of Beirut affords a better living than in a poor section of Addis Ababa. 

And it is not like we don’t have plenty of examples of this in the US. In my city of Los Angeles, many men and women come from Mexico and Central America to make a living as domestic workers or day laborers. The difference is that in LA I can also walk into a retail store, a bar or a corporate office and see someone from El Salvador, Mexico or Guatemala employed there too.

I cannot say the same about Beirut.  For example, if you see an African man working in a restaurant, he will either be washing dishes, or taking out the garbage.  You will not see him showing guests to their seat or taking their dinner order.  For years workers have been coming from Ethiopia, the Philippines and India yet no one has been able to progress to the position of a waiter, let alone a corporate office worker?  I hear many of the domestic workers speaking Arabic, English and French to their employers so I don’t believe its a language barrier that keeps them from rising to customer facing jobs.

Where I see most people of color in Beirut

I have also heard stories of abusive situations between employer and their employees, but I have not had any experience with this first hand, so I can’t really comment. But even the fact that the house keeper who works for a neighboring family has to sleep in a tiny shed on the terrace makes me feel uncomfortable. I wonder, if you don’t have enough space to have a live-in maid live in your home, do you really need live-in maid? 

Of course seeing treatment like this also makes me wonder how people see me. Although my skin is as dark as many of the Ethiopian women, does my speaking fluent English and having an American passport make me different? Personally, I have not faced any direct racism here, in fact most people have been nothing but hospitable to me which is why I keep wanting to extend my stay.  But I also realize that because of the language barrier, I have no idea what may be said behind my back, or to my face, for that matter.

I have been in some of the nicest hotels, clubs, and restaurants and have never been refused service, but I wonder what would happen if I showed up wearing a maid’s uniform. Or if I showed up with a few friends from Ethiopia or Nigeria instead of my friends from Lebanon and America.  Would I be treated the same way?  Does the fact that I’m allowed to spend my hard earned money in the night clubs, restaurants and high end shops while domestic workers are turned away or discouraged from even trying point to racism or classism? Or both?

As I said at the beginning, I sadly do not have any answer or fix for this situation. I know that when I regretfully leave here in less than two weeks, the situation will not have changed one bit. Hopefully people will remember me as the friendly American travel writer who truly enjoyed learning about and exploring this beautiful country. But what about the friendly Nigerian or Indian man or woman who was just as interested in this country? Will they every have a chance to know Beirut in the same way?