Voyassitude

Some twenty people contemplated enthralled the enigmatic façade of Alcatraz; to me, the mystery and charm hid in Cherine. We had parted ways an hour before and now the ferry I was on had just slowed down to allow passengers a glorious view of the famous federal prison in the distance, but my mind kept going back to her, the depth in her eyes and the sorrow in her voice, and also her genuine charisma as we traveled by bike in a gorgeous autumn morning through San Francisco.

A tour guide apprentice and budding documentary filmmaker, Cherine was tasked that Wednesday with showing me the highlights of the Bay Area. I arrived first to the meeting location, expecting a big tour group given the excellent reviews left on Airbnb for this particular bike experience. However, it turned out I was the only one who had booked the morning tour, so when the petite figure of Cherine arrived a few minutes later, we introduced ourselves and immediately took off in what became my first, unexpected private bike tour.

I couldn’t complain about the sites and the views she led me to: The Maritime National Historic Park, the Palace of Fine Arts, Great Meadow Park… Cherine proved to know them all quite well, showcasing her knowledge about the places she talked about. It wasn’t a mere script for gullible tourists but a well-researched catalogue of facts and tales from those places that integrate to exhibit the attractiveness of San Francisco.

As we got to know each other, I started to realize that a particular appeal resided not just in the city but in Cherine herself. We discovered we had been to the same place the night before, the Bill Graham Civic Auditorium witnessing our rapturous joy thanks to the music of Stromae; we also had read or were currently reading the same book about some murders during the 1893’s World Fair in Chicago, which added a special interest to our stop at the Palace of Fine Arts since it was built for the San Francisco International Exposition of 1915. And she had a frank, candid, and giant smile that would come to the surface whenever she talked of her husband, her passions, her pleasure when she got on a bike to go around town.

But there was something hiding inside her. Under her layers of graciousness and vitality lay a shadow that soon covered her semblance. Piqued as I was by her lovely accent with traces of French, I asked her where she was from. “Lebanon,” she said as any remnants of bliss vanished from her face. I immediately offered my sympathies for the destruction her country had suffered after the terrible explosion of 2020, but that only intensified the shadows.

She had been there, she experienced it all. She told me that she used to work close to the port though she wasn’t there the day that Beirut was shaken to its very core. However, she felt the impact, the aftermath, the collapse of a life that would never be the same even though she had survived along with her loved ones. Financial crises, Covid-19, and the explosion at the port of Beirut crippled her nation, leaving nothing but devastation, ruins and anguish still fluttering almost imperceptible in her dark eyes. I asked if she had any family back there, and recognized in her affirmative answer that painful longing of those who daydream about distant loved ones and homelands. Each story, each anecdote she painted to me about her hometown was marked by an affliction born out of every single catastrophe Lebanon endured in recent years.

Nevertheless, the true magic of Cherine resided in the fact that, despite all this latent grief for her bleeding country, she managed to find a glimmer of hope through filmmaking to shine a light on the beauty that her city still possesses. Depot-Vente is an emblematic vintage shop in Beirut and also the title for Cherine’s documentary on not only the store itself but its owner and its combative, colorful spirit. You should’ve listened to the enthusiasm in her voice when explaining her beloved project, a glow that enveloped her and dissipated any shadows of sorrow. I could tell by the way she described it that it was a love letter to Beirut, a plea for it to resist, to resurface through the debris and stand tall and proud. She was still working on it back then, on October of 2022, and I knew that because of Cherine’s devotion it would triumph one day. Earlier this year Cherine was awarded by the IEFTA (International Emerging Film Talent Association) with a cash prize to support her ongoing project, which brings it one step closer to becoming a full reality thanks to the talent and passion of an amazing Lebanese filmmaker (and bike tour guide.)

After biking around Fort Point time came for the tour’s highlight: The Golden Gate Bridge. Yes, from afar it is as majestic as it looks in pictures and movies. But to me it was infinitely better when I got to cross it while pedaling as I followed Cherine towards Sausalito, a most idyllic city for afternoon strolls and lunch with a beautiful view of Richardson Bay. That’s where my wonderful tour guide and I said goodbye. I’m sure I didn’t thank her enough for the sublime experience of crossing Golden Gate Bridge on a bike, the unleashed wind blowing on our faces as I produced the smile of an ecstatic imbecile. But on the ferry taking me back to the Bay Area not even Alcatraz was hypnotizing enough to take Cherine off my thoughts, her sweetness or shape of her deep melancholy, which, nonetheless, got lighter and lighter as she shared more details from that documentary of hers I can’t wait to see someday.

San Francisco captivated me with its tranquil, clear sky and its chill late October temperature ideal for bike rides that, in addition to showing me the beauty of a city, also revealed the charm of Cherine.