We were treated to two breathtaking shows last week.
The first was a one-woman-show, a dark but daring staging, a most singular entrance and a surprising performance.
The second was a spectacular representation, of prodigious beauty, so close to perfection that it looks like a moving picture, a prolonged dream, a painting meticulously painted with a palette of vivid colors.
Two shows, Lebanese women and a single red thread: courage, talent and audacity.
A Sally who had nothing to lose, who got up one good morning in September, in a country that was bubbling, and decided, with a few friends, to go rob a bank. Yes, as simple as that, it seems, a Casa del papel Lebanese version.
Regardless of the political adventures around this robbery, this most surreal news item, this science fiction in the heart of Beirut is a wonderful message regarding the heroism of Lebanese women.
We’ve often underestimated her, overlooked her abilities, and taken her for a weak, secondary creature. We have often associated her with a masculine power: sister of, daughter of, wife of… whereas she exists in her own right, independent, surprising and autonomous. Sally proved it to us and there are many “Sallys”, who every day embody this image on a daily basis through their essential role in society and the battles they lead in silence, or not.
Sally on one side with a well-crafted plan down to the smallest detail and the Mayyas on the other, tying up dance steps like couture, haute couture.
Women of all religions, from all corners of this lost, ruined, forgotten country. They have talent and determination in common, and with this winning formula you can move mountains.
We followed them, glued to our screens, playing their performances in a loop, dazzled by blowing “wows” every 2 seconds.
The Mayyas dreamed because without a dream the world does not move… and they moved in all directions, on the set, in our heads, to penetrate our soul through these singular choreographies.
There are many “Mayyas”, talented, determined, dreamy and capable women. I meet them every day, I greet them, I respect them and what does it change from this superficial image of bloggers with empty and insignificant content.
A single final word to the artists of the two shows: thank you.
Thank you for proving, once once more, to the Arab world and to the whole world that we exist and that we exist too much. It can intimidate, disturb and threaten some, but it is a beacon of hope for others and an inconceivable pride.
For all the Lebanese and Arab women who wake up in the morning with a little heart, questioning their power, their talent, their determination and their courage, just think of the “Sallys” and “Mayyas” of the world looking at you in the mirror and shouting with all the energy that you secretly hide behind this femininity: I want, I can and I’m going for it!
Texts published in the Courier section engage only their authors. In this space, L’Orient-Le Jour offers its readers the opportunity to express their ideas, their comments and their reflections on various subjects, provided that the remarks are neither defamatory nor offensive or racist.
We had the right to attend two breathtaking shows last week. The first was a one-woman show, a dark but daring staging, a most singular entrance and a surprising performance. The second was a spectacular representation, of prodigious beauty, so close to perfection that it looks like a moving image, a…
