When I was asked to write a short one page summary of my experience in Lebanon, I accepted without hesitating because of my great desire of sharing and spreading with my Jomali’s brothers and sisters the huge thirst of “libanism” that left me this unforgettable experience. I thought it would be possible because I’ve been in our motherland for three weeks only, but till now I haven’t had the chance to really think what these three weeks have meant to me. What did I feel when the Luftansa’s flight A321 finally landed on Lebanon? Indescribable. Not in a million years would I be able to describe the mix between butterflies in my stomach and that feeling of nostalgia reacquaints yourself with something that you had not seen before but in the moment your feet touch the ground you feel like home. See? It’s something you just can’t explain with words. You’ve been waiting, sat, perplexed for a moment because you cannot believe you're fulfilling that dream that your grandparents were unable to fulfill: to return to Lebanon. Yes, to return. Because despite of being the first time you walk through the airport Rafic Hariri in Beirut, you've been there before, you've been there your whole life. You get to the entry and deeply breathe an air that yells “Ahla w sahla”, and that's the moment when you know you've finally come to your home. We repeatedly looked around for someone to pick us up from the airport and take us to the hotel where the WLCU youth congress was being held, and after an hour of looking and finding nobody, we had to call on the local taxis: “Hi, english? – No, arabic yes, french yes, english no” we got the same answer about ten times until finally God heard our prayers and sent us to a taxi driver who “spoke english” or at least answered “yes” to all our questions (yes, even when we asked how much he was going to charge he answered “yes”) and agreed to take four people with two giant suitcases each in his own small taxi. The fourth time I had to repeat "Fatqa, Notre Dame du Mont house of hospitality, after Adma" we knew we were lost. I prayed to God, Saint Charbel and all the saints my mom packed on my wallet (¡gracias mamá!), he takes us along the right path, which was not that hard because I traced the route on my phone though it would have been a little easier if that driver in his 70s had known what google maps was. When we finally arrived to the hotel, we saw an irritated man addressing us with firm, quick steps: “onde você estava? Eu estava tão preocupado, enviamos alguém para buscálo no aeroporto”. We replied in spanish that we hadn’t seen anyone. He ignored us while he paid to the taxi driver and continued scolding us for not notifying him when we arrived. When he finally relaxed and asked us to feel like home (which wasn’t really hard) we met the paternal side of Toni Kadissi who stayed with us the whole time we stayed in Lebanon. The first day we went down to breakfast and we were greeted by our Argentine sisters of 3 kisses on the cheeks. At the start it confused us all (the mexicans at least) and at the end we were not able to give just one. We had for breakfast pita bread, tomato, cucumber, olives, cheese, labne, zaatar, and egg, with a great variety in drinks: coffee or tea (till today I still don’t know what kind of tea I drank all these time!). That, my fellows, was our every morning breakfast, and today I miss it so damn much I still don’t believe I dared to complain about it. We had integration activities such as singing, dancing, running, talking, short moments of reflection and at noon we were sent to change clothes to head to Harissa, Jeita Grotto and a walk through downtown. I’ve always had great respect for our lady of Lebanon because since I was a child my family made her so present in our lives. Hanging from the walls of my house and my grandparent’s, in key chains, and every may we coronate her in Veracruz since I can remember. I was fortunate to crown her In May of 2013 in my hometown and in August of the same year I had the joy of being able to visit her in Lebanon. Upon reaching the top of Harissa and appreciate its greatness up close, I closed my eyes and thanked God for the chance of being there, in that land which not only is mentioned so many times in the Bible, but it is also my land and that of my ancestors. The next few days passed between visits to Baalbek (only one word can be used to describe this place: Majestic), Zahle, the caves of Ksara, Byblos (where we learned to negotiate with local merchants “A desh masaree? Hamse dollar? La! Ma fi masaree, habibi!”), Ehden, the beautiful Mediterranean beaches of Batroun and countless wonderful places that make clear the diversity and cultural richness that Lebanon offers its visitors. However, I could take hours and pages describing my affection for this land of ours, and yet it couldn’t ever be compared to the feeling of brotherhood that each and every one of you awakened in my heart. Waking up every morning in Lebanon wouldn’t have been so pleasant if it had not been our brothers of Jucal who elegantly knocked at our doors at 6:00 am (thanks, never knew an alarm as efficient, son grosos mis pibes!); any "yalla yalla " will never be better than the one we sang together while dancing dabke to the sound of derbake or at a Fares Karam concert; there won’t be a prettier sunset in Rawshe than the one we admired on august 26th, 2013; neither visiting the house of the emigrant (Hayda Lebanon), nor the cedars valley nor even the Beirut’s Sky Bar wouldn’t have been so special if I wouldn’t have had the pleasure of sharing it with my mexican, argentine, brazilian, chilean, colombian, bolivian, french, english, australian, american, lebanese friends. Thank you for sharing my feelings, you are all one of the best chapters in this book I call life. Travelling 7608 miles to visit the land where Jesus performed his first miracle was the most exquisite experience. I filled my camera with the best pictures, my mind with the best memories and fed my soul with the best experience. I crowned the best trip of my life discovering that nothing in this world can be compared to Qartaba in my heart. When I first went to my grandparent’s city, I understood their desire to return. I saw Qartaba through their eyes. I walked those narrow streets following their footsteps and knew they had made the trip with me. I finally understood that we need to know where we come from to know where we go. And today I can say that Lebanon is not only our origins; Lebanon is the hospitality of its people; Lebanon is to leave the land you love to seek the welfare of your family; Lebanon is the strength of a cedar which does not break with the strongest snow; Lebanon is to get up off the ground and start over, a phoenix; Lebanon is peace and it’s the tears shed by those who had to leave when there was none; Lebanon is our home, no matter who you are or where you come from, you will always find its doors opened; Lebanon is pride; Lebanon is culture; Lebanon is service; We are Lebanon. Michelle Suárez Kuri México. .