Even in war, life must go on, say Beirut's night owls

Even in the darkest days of their 1975-1990 civil conflict, the Lebanese were never known to let war get in the way of a good party.

Propping up the few bars still open in Beirut, some night owls are proving again that, even under fire, life must go on.

"Why should I be afraid? I was born during the war. I wasn't afraid as a child and I'm not going to be afraid now. I've been shot at and people have died in front of me," said Paul Chahine, leaning over the bar at the Torino pub in Gemayze, a Christian part of Beirut. "This is a way to be defiant."

Usually filled with traffic and young Lebanese out on the town, Gemayze has been largely deserted since Israel began bombarding Lebanon 13 days ago in retaliation for the capture of two Israeli soldiers by Hizbollah guerillas.

Its bars and restaurants are only one mile from the city's Shi'ite Muslim southern suburb, which has been badly damaged by intense Israeli bombardment. The shutters are down and lights out at all but a handful of bars, which decided to reopen after a couple of days closure, partly as it became clear that the area was unlikely to be targeted and partly because people just need something to divert them from constant television news coverage of the conflict.

"It is just the frustration. People are trying to escape things but at the same time no one can stop talking about it," said Mohammed Shreif, who opened Laila's, the bar he runs with his friend in Gemayze after a three-day closure.

"Most of the people there don't want to go home. They are scared and don't want this induced fun to end."

Cosmopolitan Beirut has arguably the best nightlife in the Arab world, attracting droves of wealthy Arabs from the Gulf to the more liberal lifestyle of multi-confessional Lebanon where alcohol is freely available.

In its 1960s golden age, Beirut was known as the playground of the Middle East. Known for their gritty stoicism, Beirutis always found ways to enjoy themselves, even under shelling and with their country divided. The seaside capital was beginning to regain some of its old allure when the latest crisis broke.

Israel's 13-day-old onslaught has killed 372 people and wrecked many civilian installations in Lebanon, but has not stopped rocket attacks that have killed 17 Israelis. Twenty Israeli soldiers have also been killed. But most of the damage has been done to the towns and villages of southern Lebanon and the southern suburb of Beirut.

Other areas have been spared the worst and with so many people displaced from the southern suburb, Hamra, Beirut's prime shopping and café district during the civil war and still one of the busiest parts of the capital, is almost bustling in the day. Downtown Beirut, rebuilt from the ruins of the civil war, is an almost entirely commercial area that has remained deserted.

"This is a type of defiance," said Naaman Kiwan, assistant manager of Blue Note, which opened in 1987, in the midst of war.

"We had live music and it used to be very crowded because there were few bars open in Beirut. It's quiet tonight but soon people will get used to the situation and start coming back."

And in true Beirut style, some hardy souls were not about to ruin their tan because of a few bombs.

"I have been going to the beach every afternoon. What are we supposed to do? Stay at home and watch the news all the time? It gets depressing," said Nazha Merebi, a graphic designer.

"During the Israeli invasion in 1982, Israeli tanks were parked on the corniche and I would walk between them to cross to the beach. I did that every day then and I won't stop now."