A center in Beirut, housed in an old school building and currently hosting refugees, transforms on World Cup nights. Each evening as the match begins, the courtyard, once traversed by students, fills with people gathering around a temporarily installed large screen.
A brief break from the weight of daily life
The center's courtyard turns into an open-air cinema during match hours. Among the viewers are people like Khidr Tahir, in his 50s, who came from southern Lebanon. Tahir expresses that while watching the matches, he engages in a silent struggle between his past normal life and his current reality.
Children run around the courtyard, imitating the excitement they see on the screen in small spaces. For them, football is not just something to watch, but also a game to live.
A sense of community and temporary escape
Young woman Jenna Karim sees the match-watching event not just as sport, but as an opportunity for a brief escape from daily stresses. She says being together with others watching the same thing at the same time creates a slight sense of security, a shared moment in a fragmented time.
Center manager Ali Riza states that this event is a conscious choice. He explains that the aim is to create a different space within the heavy days where people can breathe, even if just for two hours. He adds that interest has exceeded expectations and the courtyard fills up like an open-air cafe every evening.
Reality returns when the match ends
Haytham Usayli and his family say they find an opportunity to distance themselves from the day's heavy news by watching the matches. However, they acknowledge that this joy ends when the final whistle blows, and all postponed worries return.
When the match ends and the lights go out, people return to their temporary beds. In the courtyard, only the echoes of a past moment, the faint trace of a small joy, remain. In this center, the World Cup becomes a temporary form of holding onto life.