Seated outside a bar in Beirut’s Mar Mikhail neighborhood, Firas (a pseudonym) held a cigarette in one hand, a drink in the other and the weight of the world on his shoulders.
“I’m not a refugee. I’m self-sufficient,” he said, his voice cracking and for a brief moment tears welling up in his eyes. Firas works two jobs, one at a restaurant and the other at a pub, to get by. They help supplement his real passions — acting, rapping and stand-up comedy. As Firas regained his composure, he stated with certainty, “Nobody knows what is going on.”
Firas, who asked that his real name not be used for reasons of privacy, is a 27-year-old Syrian artist and musician who left his home in Aleppo to avoid conscription in the army. He is adaptive and has a comic personality that has endeared him to a group of mostly Lebanese friends. Firas holds a legal residency permit, setting him apart from the 1.1 million Syrians registered as refugees in Lebanon.
His permit, however, expires in February, and Lebanon’s General Security Directorate has said it will not be renewed. Firas was not given a reason for the decision, but he suspects a new set of regulations imposed on Syrians wishing to enter the country played a role. An estimated 300,000 non-refugee Syrians have been thrown into a fit of confusion by the changes.
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