In 2005, I visited Abu Elias Ariru’s pottery workshop in the Mina area of Tripoli with my elementary school — that visit marked the beginning of my fascination with pottery. Twenty years later, I returned to see him, and his smile was just as I remembered.
Abu Elias never intended to become a potter. He had dreamed of studying mechanical engineering abroad, but circumstances forced him to stay and help his father in the shop. It was there that he discovered his passion for the craft and taught himself how to work with clay — knowledge he now shares with many visitors before teaching them how to make pottery pieces. After his father’s death, he inherited the workshop and continued the work, even after his brother left the profession.
He recalls his early struggles: “The first piece I made was funny.” Even after gaining experience, one of his pieces once broke after long hours of work, but he accepted it calmly, saying, “A person learns from his mistakes.”
During our conversation, he remembered the year 1983, when an Israeli missile hit his parents’ home, destroying his early works. And despite the loss and lack of government support, he never gave up on his craft.
Today, only seven potters remain in Lebanon, from thirty-seven. The economic crisis has reduced the number of customers — some weeks, no one visits the workshop.
Yet, Abu Elias’s passion continues “Pottery gives life,” he says. “It’s like we’ve become brothers — me and the clay. After all, God created us from clay, and I work with clay.”
He believes that passion cannot be imposed, so he will not force his children to inherit the workshop when he grows old. He ends with a sincere wish: “I just hope this craft doesn’t stop with us — not here.”
