It happens every time. You cross the invisible threshold from the international, Western, individualistic culture of the airport into the wing designated to the Beirut-bound flight, and culture shock hits you. It doesn't matter which airport it is - Heathrow, Frankfurt, Charles de Gaule - the same thing happens every time.

Personal space shrinks to an almost non-existent bubble; the general volume increases, as do the gestures in conversations; there is always at least one infant out to prove the strength of his lungs; and no matter how assimilated some of the passengers are in the West (those who have immigrated there, that is), they inevitably forget those acquired 'Western' mannerisms the moment they cross the invisible threshold.

It's as if the Middle East wants to remind me - and anyone else traveling in that direction - that she is alive and thriving, and refuses to become as placid and 'proper' as the West, even as she fraternizes with the business, arts, and politics of it.

But honestly, can anyone ever forget the Middle East once they have come in contact with her? More importantly, would anyone want to?