I guess you can say I was super lucky to have been in Tripoli this past Friday. I was out and about with a friend in a city that is slowly but surely celebrating Christmas: trees, decorations, traffic, bustling people everywhere. What only Tripoli offers Lebanon in form of our national Christmas spirit is their very own Fayha Choir, named after the city from which they emanated. The choir in question usually holds recitals in some of Tripoli’s churches, as well as other places in the country, to celebrate the occasion. They have also been on international tours, received international recognition for what they do, and reached the semi-finals of Arabs Got Talent 3 years ago.

It so happened that they had a recital that very day. It was only evident that we go.

To say I was blown away would be an understatement.

Founded in 2003, the choir started as an 8-people unit until it expanded into the 40+ phenomenon that it is today. They are conducted by Barkev Taslakian, a very impressive person who has shaped the choir into the form it is in today.

I daresay it’s not only Lebanon’s leading a-cappella choir, it’s the region’s by far.

I was told that this blog has recently turned into an obituary. Tripoli’s Fayha Choir have blown me away so much that I am writing my first full on positive entry in a long time just to shed a spotlight on this wonderful collection of Lebanese talent. No buts.

Christmas spirit isn’t about flashy, expensive and gifts under a tree. True Christmas spirit is about giving and sharing. The Fayha Choir is sharing with us their voices. That choir, which holds people of different sects and following, in a city that has – for the past several years – been told that such joyful moments should not be in its destiny, is reaching out to each other and to us, uniting their voices to sing for unity, for peace, for what religions call for but very few actually implement.

I wish them nothing but success. This past Friday, they made me proud because they are making it against all odds. They are making me proud because they have Muslims singing for the Son of Man and Christians chanting all the names of Allah. They are making me proud because for the first time in a long time I’ve seen people do something not because it brings them money or fame or recognition, but just because they are madly in love with what they do and it shows in every single flawless note they utter. And that is the best kind.

So it is because I am proud that I mention the names of the choir’s members one by one to thank them:

• Farah Nahhas
• Aiman Saadieh
• Fatma Shehadeh
• Abdallah Adib
• Ghina Adib
• Bassem Suleyman
• Carlo Dawra
• Ahmad Al Kheir
• Joanna Asmar
• Mohammad Abdul Aal
• Maryam Hamdan
• Ahmad Darwish
• Mona el Sheikh
• Elie Hanna
• Maya el Sharif
• Ihab Taha
• Nadine Finge
• Hatem Khodr
• Roula Abou Baker
• Jack Fallah
• Negdar Palazian
• Mahmoud Mawass
• Mennat Allah
• Mohammad Mashloush
• Nour Ziadeh
• Mubadda Younes
• Nour Haddad
• Mustafa Bayrouti
• Reina Merhebi
• Mohammad Abou Baker
• Reem Abdi
• Panos Keborkian
• Mouna Ayoubi
• Sadir Abdul Hadi
• Alma Yakhni
• Paul Boulos
• Shaza Sharif
• Tarek Abdel Fattah
• Hala Amin
• Rami Dandachi
• Nizar Abdi
• Taha Ghomrawi
• Hanadi Amin
• Rania Habbouchi
• Oussama Charaf Eddine

Why such talents are not yet a household name in Lebanon is beyond me. Check out their Facebook page for their upcoming perfomances.  You won’t be disappointed.

I thought the 4th season of The Voice France (La Plus Belle Voix) passed by without us noticing because there wasn’t a Lebanese candidate there.

The first season of the show had Johnny Maalouf, who received the least media attention in this home country even though he reached very advanced stages on the show; the second one had Anthony Touma, who reached the semi-finals before losing to the eventual runner up of that season; and last year’s season had Aline Lahoud, daughter of Lebanese late singer Salwa Al Katrib, who auditioned with one of her mother’s most famous songs and made it to the battle stages of the show.

According to LeFigaro, LBC and up and coming Lebanese blog Sharbel Faraj, Hiba Tawaji is set to be the opening talent of the 4th season of The Voice France, set to debut on January 10th, 2015. Judging by the hype that even TF1 is making for her, she has obviously made it through.

TF1 had shared an instagram video 3 days ago for a talent they called Hiba, singing a-capella for the press conference announcing the show. The talent in question starts off singing “Les Moulins De Mon Coeur” before – and you can barely hear this at the end of the video – moves into لا بداية ولا نهاية, Hiba’s Lebanese take on the song.

They also tweeted about it on December 17th, but few have failed to notice in this part of the world, as well as posted a vine of a shorter portion of the instagram video you see above:

I’m sure Hiba Tawaji will do remarkably well on the show. She has the pipes for it. While I’m not a big fan of her music, I can’t but appreciate the magnitude of professionalism and the sheer caliber of her pipes. I daresay, The Voice France has probably never had a singer as talented as she is and they ought to make sure everyone knows that, although I have to wonder if French audiences aren’t sick of having a Lebanese candidate on their show every year.

What I’m less sure of, however, is the need for Hiba Tawaji to go on such a show. She’s already a household name in Lebanon – much more known that last year’s Aline Lahoud. She already has two best-selling albums out, has been in multiple Rahbani plays and can sell out concerts quite easily with the following she has amassed, dedicated to listen to her pristine vocals.

Perhaps the confines of this country have become too narrow and limited for such a talent, perhaps she wants more for herself than to be pigeon-holded into the very narrow-frames that our culture places on female singers. Perhaps she has bigger dreams in mind than selling out Casino Du Liban for a couple of nights.

Good luck to her although I’m sure she doesn’t need it. I mean, can you imagine how gaga those judges and audiences will go if she sings my favorite songs of her?

Or:

Remember that competition that found us voting our asses off for Jeita a couple of years ago? The one where we had pinned all our touristic dreams on? You know… *looks around to see if someone is looking and whispers* the one Jeita did not win?

Well, those running that competition figured it would be a good idea to keep the subcategories of new 7 wonders going. So for the past two years, another one has been taking place and, even though most of us hadn’t heard of it apparently, Beirut has found itself on the winning list of 7 cities that are now the new 7 wonders of the world when it comes to cities, whatever that means and whatever weight the list holds.

*Drumroll please.*

So to start this in perfect press release-like fashion, here it goes:

Beirut, our lovely capital, the city of endless youth, parties and life. The city that has risen from the ashes SEVEN times. Seven. It’s a sign for it to be a on a list of seven. See, it’s all as god intended. The city that was a pile of rubble in the not so distant past. The city of Gemmayze, Hamra, Monot and Dahyeh. The city of coexistence, of the Muslim chants merging with Church bells and of Churches being endlessly taken into that Mosque-containing picture frame. Yes, that city has won!

…. And it’s sharing the list with Doha, Qatar.

Arabs have won. Worry not about all the troubles ravaging the Middle East away. This tiny region of the world, where Allah saw fit to deposit all of his three religions, where imperialistic powers have looked for years at those lands in envy, were the Zionists will (eventually?) meet their demise. That region has produced not one, but TWO cities on that 7 cities list.

It’s a matter of regional pride. I demand a day, or several days off to rejoice.

I can smell it as I type this. Soon enough, the blog posts rejoicing about Beirut being on that list will start trickling down, like they always do when something Lebanese does something somewhere, regardless of how irrelevant that might be.

Following the blogs will be our news services who will forget about Ali Al Bazzal, those kidnapped soldiers, and their grieving parents. They will forget about the fact that this wonder of the world was, until very recently, in a state of drought. They will forget that this wonder of the world is still without electricity for at least 3 hours a day. They will forget that this wonder of the world is all about diversity by name but its buildings are now being sprung up with sectarian graffiti to make sure people know they are in East or West. They will forget that this wonder of the world is losing itself away to those corrupt contractors, real estate companies and high rises towering above it and calling their buildings its sky.

They will forget about all of that and inundate you with the wonderful news that your city – our city – is one of the most important places to be in the world right now (along with Doha, of course), and you will, in turn, forget about the lack of water, electricity, public transportation, president, parliament, elections, those kidnapped soldiers and Ali Al Bazzal as you drink to that wonderful news on your typical everyday night out at those many pubs springing around this wonderful city that serves alcohol in a region where alcohol is pretty much haram, enjoying that wonderous joie de vivre in this wonder of the world.

I cannot wait for all the excitement.

You’ve killed her a thousand times over with those senseless jokes, the rumors and then some more jokes when the rumors were debunked. But this morning, Lebanese singer Sabah passed away at the age of 87.

My earliest memory of Sabah is being a kid hovering around my mom’s waist as she sang her song “Sa’at Sa’at” while she cooked, or, if she felt playful, went about a round of “Jib el Mejwez.” Today, my mom is the one who reaches my waist, but she still sings those songs when she cooks, and they’ve become engrained in my mind as a result too.

With over 50 albums in her decade-long career, she is on the same rank as some artists that many consider worthier of more clout, such as Fairuz and Um Kulthum.

More senseless things happen daily that’s for sure, but Lebanon lost one of its giants today and that is something that should be acknowledged, whether you liked Sabah as an artist or not. Of course, Sabah is also yet another example of a Lebanese patriot who is under appreciated by both her government and her countrymen: you only need to look around to see the same people making fun of her over the years suddenly remembering that yes, she is human, and that humans die, as corny as that sounds.

Sabah’s death marks yet another nail in the coffin of true Lebanese artistry, at a time when Lebanese singers gave the world and their country true art, not some rehashed Turkish tune or some mysognistic song about how women are only supposed to stay home.

Earlier this morning, as I told someone the news, their reaction was “finally.” I, for one, hope the collective Lebanese population does not share that sentiment about Sabah passing away. I also hope the jokes, at least today, do not find their way onto the timelines and twitter feeds.

Rest in peace Sabah. May your songs live in the memory of those who love them forevermore. I believe that is the greatest honor that an artist could have and you’ve done that exceedingly.