Lebanon: Beirut and Tripoli

She looks like an old lady.

That is the first thought I had wandering the streets of Beirut. Like an old lady, the city shows the signs of time: the life that has passed on her skin, on her buildings and, streets. A tough life. She is trying to hide some of time’s signs on her face: her heavy makeup, a well done one, shiny new buildings, new markets, luxury shops and hotels. She is trying… Look closer, deeper. Can you see it now? You can see her whole life in the folds of her skin, all that she has endured in the years. Under that bold makeup, the buildings are empty, lifeless, but the streets outside the city centre,

- oh, those streets! -

full of life, full of people, full of stories. You can read those stories in the faces you encounter, in the eyes of the sellers, and on the walls of the old buildings.

You can see everything.
After all, our experiences are what create us.

On my trip to Lebanon, I arrived as a virgin without a plan, without a pre-build story in my head.
I arrived free to listen to the new country and to receive the feelings it wanted to share with me.
I visited Beirut and Tripoli. I got lost in their streets and walked for hours to get to know them.
I wanted to know the people, their stories, and the feelings they wanted to share with me and put them in pictures.