Telling Our Stories:
A Visual Journey through the Levant and Diaspora
I wrote and photographed a series of profiles for Al Rawiya as part of the Riwayetna project, where I served as the resident photographer. This community-led initiative highlights the untold stories of individuals across the Levant and its diaspora, bringing their narratives to life through powerful imagery and storytelling.
My teta Hiam’s favorite story to tell me, and the one that always brings a smile to her face and mine, is about how she met my jeddo Abbas. They were introduced at the house next door (sadly demolished in 2020) to my teta’s building, which also happens to be where my mother and I were both raised in and currently reside. My teta’s neighbor invited her to breakfast, and my grandfather, a friend of the neighbor’s extended family, was also invited that morning.
After making small talk, my grandfather invited her to a political gathering that was happening the next day at the nearby Le Bristol Hotel. When she walked in the next day, he was waiting for her in the salon. She asked “Where is the meeting?” To which he replied, ‘Forget about the meeting. Let’s go get coffee.”
He hailed a taxi and the rest is my history.
If you’ve visited Beirut in the last 10 years, there’s a huge chance you’ve met @mayanoise (otherwise known as Chef Maya). At a young age, Maya learned how to cook from her mother. Exhausted from constantly catering Maya’s parties, birthdays, sleepovers, and just-because celebrations, Maya’s mother put her foot down and said: You’re going to learn how to cook your own damn food to celebrate. It started with lasagna, and the rest is history.
Now, Maya is a chef on the go. You’ll either catch her zooming around Beirut on her white Vespa, in a signature blue helmet covered in stickers, filming a rant on her Instagram stories, or whipping up a variety of delicious meals at pop-up events for her family and friends.
With someone so well-known, and seemingly self-assured, it’s shocking to hear that her greatest fear is not living up to her true potential. “Or that I’m not fighting hard enough for what I want.”
Maya’s constantly battling ‘the voices’ of self-doubt about a number of things, especially her career as a chef, and regularly asks herself: What the hell am I doing? Am I actually living the life I’m meant to live?
“I know everyone feels the same fears of failure, or not reaching the goals they set for themselves.” The question is: How to overcome it? Her answer is simple: “Don’t give into that fear – lean into it. Be kinder to yourself. Be compassionate. What’s meant to be will be, and what doesn’t happen simply wasn’t meant for you.”
Originally from Aita al-Shaab, a village near occupied Palestine, @mous_dk was raised in Beirut’s southern suburbs of Dahieh by a remarkable single mother. When he moved out at 19, Moustafa worked at Sip cafe, eventually moving into food & beverage consulting for spots like Neighborhood and Saj Stories while developing his drag persona Latiza Bombe. Over time, he successfully built a safe space where he could express himself fully.
This changed overnight. After an extremist group attacked a queer-friendly bar in Mar Mikhael in 2023 where Moustafa was performing, his drag persona and personal identity were outed to the world. He holds my gaze as he recounts the events of the night. It’s easy to forget that we’re still surrounded by people who perceive diversity as deviance and seek to punish those who don’t mold themselves into their lines.
He feared for his safety and fled Lebanon for 3 months. When he returned in November 2023, he couldn’t leave his home without friends around for protection. “Without the support and love of my close friends and community, I wouldn’t have survived this experience, or stayed in Lebanon. They mean the world to me.”
But Moustafa didn’t shy away, he doubled down. He established more safe spaces across Beirut, co-founding projects like Heshik Beshik and Krush Afters —inclusive party events where everyone is free to mingle and dance, no matter their gender expression or sexuality. “I won’t leave unless it’s my choice. I’ll stay for as long as I can, push my boundaries, and keep working on what I love.”
To see Beirut through @tanya_traboulsi’s lens is to fall in love with it. Tanya frequently goes on photo walks, sometimes alone, oftentimes with others, and provides an intimate portrayal of a city that - for all its problems - continues to lure people in. Her fierce devotion to the fractured city, and its people, is clear.
Like many other Lebanese, Tanya was forced to leave Beirut with her family in 1983 due to the outbreak of the civil war, saying “I spent 13 years abroad, unrooted and ruptured, dreaming of Beirut and the moment of my return.”
Through her photographs, she takes you to the places, and people, most special to her. Whether it is images of deep blue sea and the waning sun, or the playful smiles of the young boys that haunt Rawche or Dalieh, you will inevitably find yourself falling in love with the Beirut of Tanya’s dreams - and isn’t that a wonderful place to be?