A Shrinking Island
MY FAVORITE BEIRUT CAFE is on a street corner opposite a large park, one of the few green spaces in the concrete jungle that is the city I still call home. The trees in the park, known as the Jesuit Garden because it was once a summer retreat for Jesuit priests living closer to the coast, shield the remains of a Byzantine church.
The waitress, Lea, a student of health and nutrition at a Beirut university, brings me an espresso as soon as I walk through the door. She grew up in Zahleh, a predominantly Christian” whenever he sees me. Mohammed is in charge of preparing the Middle East’s smoke of choice—water pipes—for the evening clientele. At a table next to me, a family is having an animated conversation in Armenian.
