By Dina Al Amood – Thalia Kattoura – Rayane Tawil

L’Orient Today and Outlook, AUB’s independent student gazette, joined forces to cover this year’s installation of AUB Outdoors.

It’s 10 p.m. at AUB. Green Oval, usually an open stretch of grass on campus, too open to feel intimate, had folded in on itself. Thousands stand shoulder to shoulder, waiting for Saint Levant to take the Main Stage. Kuffiyehs hang loose over shoulders, tied as skirts, wrapped into halter tops and headbands. Mullets are on full display, paired with lace-up sandals caked with the dust of a long day.

In its 41st edition, AUB Outdoors — the two-day student-led festival held on the AUB campus — became the stage for an unspoken scene of togetherness. In a country reeling from war, displacement and economic collapse, thousands came to claim a piece of summer.

“This is my third time here. This event is special,” said Ahmad al-Hamwi, 20, “The environment is really nice, full of colors and positive vibes. It’s much better than last year, when the war was going on. People are much happier today.”

Compared to the festival’s previous themes, which leaned more on escapist narratives, like fantasy, retro futurism, or global pop culture tropes, this year’s theme, Lebanese Summer, put local textures, language and sounds on center stage. Local food and craft vendors set up their booths on campus, and performers included international Arab artists like Saint Levant and Aziz Maraka.

“The shift toward local and Arab identity is not a trend; it’s a reaction. When everything else collapses, you fall back on who you are,” said Antony Moukheiber, 19, from the festival. Many, like Antony, believe that finding connection and pride in local narratives, rather than imported aesthetics, is deeply tied to the country’s socio-political condition.

Others remain more skeptical. AUB student and Outdoors attendee Marco Robert says, “I feel that this is more a reflection of escapism than a tangible shift.” For him, the visibility of Arab culture in events like Outdoors may signal a shift in taste rather than a sign of real cultural or economic impact.

But, however subtle, the festival is part of a new cultural current sweeping Lebanon. Taking the stage, Saint Levant opened with announcing, “We, Lebanon, Palestine and Syria, are the future, not the West. The Levant… we are the future.”

Behind the scenes

For newcomers and attendees, AUB Outdoors can feel like a fever dream, but for those involved in its organizing, it is a culmination of months of planning, coordination and work that is entirely led and executed by AUB students.

The process is a total professional production: different subteams are formed, schedules are set and students take the lead across every project. In total, the organizing team is made up of over 700 undergraduate students. Jude Fakih, Outdoors Construction Assistant, explains that executing the event often meant pulling all-nighters, sometimes till 8 a.m., just to check off every task on the list.

Behind the operational planning, the fundamental mission of Outdoors is fundraising. All proceeds go to AUB’s Financial Aid program, totaling approximately $50,000 worth of scholarships in recent years. Considering the dollarization of tuition fees and the subsequent strain on students and their families since the economic crisis began in 2019, this cause has become more urgent than ever.

“Our students today are in dire need of financial support. We have so much talent, but we know that resources are scarce,” said Nayla al-Akl, Dean of Student Affairs at AUB. “This initiative shows current and potential AUB students that other students are here to support them. Hopefully, we can raise as much funding as possible to cover their tuition fees.”

This story is not separate from what Saint Levant was saying on stage. At the end of his concert, he called to his crowd, saying, “We are one population. Do not forget us. Write down: I am an Arab.” The line, lifted from Mahmoud Darwish’s iconic poem “Identity Card,” was a reminder of shared memory, solidarity and the unspoken context beneath the celebration.