The Ball, and Wrong About Spring

We got talked in to the St. Patrick’s Day Ball at the Movenpick Hotel. We were warned that Tom should wear a suit or tux, but decided that the only sport coat we brought from the States would have to do. I was thankful for the designer top sister Margaret gave me last Christmas. We live fairly simply and weren’t inclined to buy fancy duds for the one evening. I did splurge on manicure and pedicure (hey, it was my birthday treat) and a pair of fancy stockings. Alas, the manicure shot is the only one I have to share as in my haste to get to the ball (pumpkin syndrome?) I neglected to bring the camera along. [Small factoid: what we call a "French manicure", which is also called a "French manicure" in Beirut though people are more likely to speak French than English (so why not "manicure francais"??) is basically unknown in France. How do these things start?]

The Movenpick is right on the Mediterranean, and a short taxi ride for us. We wanted a “service” taxi, the type that picks up multiple passengers and may not go directly to your destination, but costs only 2000 Lira ($1.33). Generally these are ancient Mercedes, with multiple bash marks and, often, assorted colored fenders. But this was our magical night at the ball, and we happened to get a cushy, newer service, and arrived in style.

In the outer hall outside the banquet room, waiters circulated with trays of shrimp and salmon canapés, and gin tonics, wine and champagne. I passed on the champagne, memories of next day headaches from bubbly white wine masquerading as the real thing, but when a French friend later asked why I declined a waiter’s offer of the bubbly and I saw that the bottle was actually Moet Chandon, I dove in.

There must have been several hundred people there. Lots from the British Isles. People were well dressed but relaxed, having fun. Robert Fiske came in blue jeans and a rumpled sweater; if you are that famous the dress code apparently does not apply.

There was a bottle of Jameson’s Irish whiskey and Bailey’s Irish Cream on each table. A four course meal was served around 11 pm. We had to remind ourselves it was fundraiser. We never did actually learn what the funds were for…

A band imported from Ireland didn't start until after dinner and played only one set--perhaps too busy with all the alcohol? But no one seemed to care, as canned dance music played and dozens of people danced, including a happy nun in full habit, and us (which is probably what saved us from hangover). When we left at 1 am the party was still going.

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I was wrong about Spring, at least this year. We have now had several weeks of coolish (~65 F) weather with occasional showers.

Israel Floods Lebanese Fields with Rainwater

The small article below, too typical, colored my day today. Yesterday I went to a lecture at AUB (American Univeristy of Beirut) by a Harvard professor who spoke of the long-range plans in place that reduce Palestine to a charity case. I hope you heard about the "macaroni incident" there? [John Kerry, on a recent visit to Gaza, learned that Isreal had forbidden a Mercy Coprs shipment of pasta to enter. It seems pasta (along with crayons and tomato paste) are not essential and therefore suspect. Perhaps it could be used to "shell" Israel? Anyway, it took an intervention by Sec. Clinton to release the shipment]

"Israel deliberately flooded Lebanese farmlands with excess rainwater from an Israeli orchard, located off the southern town of Mais al-Jabal early Tuesday, ruining crops and properties.The Lebanese Army and UNIFIL dispatched teams to look into the incident, which drew protests from the southern residents.Tuesday's flooding is part of a systematic practice by the Israeli authorities to turn the highly-fertile land into swamps by channeling rainwater into the fields via trenches, which were dug for that purpose. The Lebanese Army and UNIFIL have tried to block the water channels to protect the crops.Separately, UNIFIL's media coordinator, Dalia Farran, reiterated calls for Israel to hand over official maps detailing where the Israeli army dropped cluster bombs during the July 2006 offensive."

Beirut, 17 Mar 09, 15:57

Beirut Spring and Rachaya

Two months of rainy days end abruptly with blazing sun and dazzling blue skies. The temperature goes from 60 to 80 in one day. And mounts from there the next six months… We may not see rain again until after that. In fact the word in Arabic for “winter” is the same as for “rain” = “shitte”. One local friend said last week she planned to change her Facebook status to “Tired of all this shitte”.

Sunny Sunday morning we wait on Hamra Street to board the bus that will take us to southeastern Lebanon for a hike. An “80% off” sign draws me to peer in to a women’s clothing shop window. I judge a couple of items to be “not too bad”. I realize that the decision on whether enter such a shop is proportional to how long one has been in Lebanon (or how soon one expects to visit the US or Europe). Spangle level is not something I have to think about in the States.

RACHAYA

We had been looking forward to this hike, which had been twice postponed because of rain. It is in the south, close to Syria and not far from the Golan Heights. The brochure covering the section of the Lebanon Mountain Trail we will hike tells us we might see “India fig” and “Palestine pistachio” trees.

This is Druze country. Men is (mostly) black with white caps and distinctive baggy pants. Women in black or dark blue shirts and long skirts, with flowing white cotton scarves. [The camera batteries finally died or I would have included more pix, sorry]

Mt. Hermon rises above the rocky hills and valley dotted with grape vines, almond trees and the occasional herd of goats. Mt. Hermon is the border with Syria in this part of the country, and temporary (well, sort of) home to German an Austrian UN soldiers on patrol. Two photos, the one on the left, not by me…














Wish I could have shared a photo of the red and purple flowers we passed amidst the orchards.


The town of Rachaya is lovely, with red tile roofs. (Another borrowed photo on the left)
















Rachaya is definitely off the [lightly] beaten tourist track, about 2 hours drive from Beirut. As we neared the high bridge destroyed by the Israelis in the 2006 invasion, I see a sign I hadn't noticed before near some construction equipment: A gift from the American People. Well, a good gift to be sure, but one that would have been quite unecessary had we not previously gifted the bombs to Israel.



I can't resist sharing another few choice signs (mostly shops) spotted on the way:

• Swear Sweet
• Countryside Girl
• Lebanese Canadian Modern School
• Natural Center for Ever Living
• Pizza Hot

And I few others I had jotted down from the previous trip to the north:

• War Games Sale Talk
• Top Human
• Old Age Wood
• Basket In
• Mega Snack

Baalbek and Anjar...in the snow

Over the Lebanese mountain pass, heading to the astounding Roman ruins at Baalbek. our hired taxi has to stop to put snow chains on--a first for us and once-a-year type event. A flock of handy souls populate the police stop after which chains are required, ready to sell you a set, and/or to put them on for you, for a price.


We get to see the Temple of Jupiter in the snow--not a common sight. Here is new teacher Lauren from Texas, experiencing her first snow fall ever (while apparently about to be devoured). The temple is an enormous 290 X 160 feet, set on a podium 40 feet above the surrouding terrain and 22 feet above the courtyard--the largest religious building ever constructed by the Romans. It was built on top of gigantic pre-Roman stone blocks, some of which are 60 feet long, 14 feet high, and 12 feet deep, weighing 1000 tons! It is a big mystery how they were carved and placed there.


Here is Tom next to a couple of the remaining pillars, with the smaller Temple of Bacchus in the background. Bacchus, actually a temple to Venus, is the best preserved Roman temple in the world. So many gems in Lebanon! A good deal of the overhead bits between the outer columns and the outside wall of the temple are still in place, and feature carvings of famous people, notably Cleopatra (complete with asp).


The site was used as a holy place long before the Romans. The Phoenicians worshipped here at the time of Solomon.


We then went to on to Anjar, snow changing to rain. Anjar is one of the few known Umayyad cities, from the 8th century AD. The Umayyads were the first Moselm dynasty, and came to rule an empire from southern France to the Indus River.





We were frozen, and headed from there to yet another fabulous mezze meal at a nearby restaurant. The surrounding town of Anjar is home to thousands of Armenian refugees from Turkey, resettled in 1939.

Snowshoeing at Qanat Bakish

It has been a much warmer than usual winter, with not nearly as much snow in the mountains as last year. Qanat Bakish is just under 1 1/2 hours from Beirut, and is one of the six ski areas in the country. The altitude is around 2000 metres (6500 feet).

The mountain marks the extended "Green Line" of the Civil War. We recalled from a previous hike in the area that one needs to go with a guide off trail as there are still land mines...

It was a hazy day as you can see. We still could see Beirut and the Mediterranean off in the distance. There were great, fast moving clouds and the sun came out for awhile.

One of the new ACS teachers was on the trip--she is from Texas and it was her first time in snow! Way fun to enjoy her experience. Had to give her instructions on the proper method of making a snow angel... Another ACS teacher from Massachusetts found it incredible that this was the coldest the Texan had ever been. It was considerably above freezing--maybe 50 F.

Photo above is a semi-frozen pond.

As we left the area and stopped for a baked snack (of course!) it began to hail.

p.s. No broken fingers this time!

Q

Bekaa Valley hike

On our last hike with Cam here, we head to the Bekaa Valley. The main road passes by the long, high bridge bombed by the Israelis in 2006. We note the reconstruction progress since last we passed by: all the support towers are now in place and only the roadbed on one side is still missing.


We are heading for the wetlands at Aamiq. But the wetlands, home away from home for migrating birds on their way to/from Africa/Europe, that should be good and wet in February, are almost completely dry.

No birds to see, we hike on, stopping to view the only herd of buffalo in Lebanon, imported from Syria. Apparently there used to be lots of them in Lebanon, but no more. The milk is prized for buffalo mozzarella. They are much smaller than buffalo I've seen in either E. Africa, and somewhat smaller than those in Thailand.

Next stop is a Druze shrine where a woman is buried who pretended to be a man so that she could worship with the men. Somehow she became a saint-like figure. The Druze are both a religious and ethnic group. They split from Shia Islam in 1000 AD, and have been heavily persecuted pretty much ever since.

Here are photos of the Druze leader of the area and our local guide, the interior and exterior of the shrine.

It was a hazy day.

Above is a view of the dry wetland from above. The Litani River is at the far side.

At left are Cam and Tom and group descending a hillside.

We passed through farmland on our way to a village where we had lunch.

After the hike we stopped at one of Lebanon's most famous wineries, Kefraya, for a bit of wine tasting. Here are Cam and ACS teacher Sharon R.

And the vineyard.

Back at home, on Cam's last night Tom has a nargileh delivered. We sit on the balcony on a surprisingy warm February evening, before heading the the airport and his flight to Gabon (via Addis Ababa) at 2 a.m. We will miss the boy terribly, and wish him Godspeed on the challenging road ahead.

General update

On the hour long bus ride to Meeting, Cam and I pass near an area where there had been a car bomb, or maybe it was two?, last year. I reflect that we have been car bomb free for a good long while--since last April, I think. And there had been one in January 2008 as well. And then, of course, there was all that “trouble” last May, when Hezbollah and allies took over Beirut, and our neighborhood was under siege. The calm since then is certainly worth noting.

It was Cam’s last week in Lebanon, before heading to Gabon and points west: Gabon, to reconnect with people there and take harp lessons; Mexico, conference of ibogaine providers; Washington, basic EMT training; Nebraska (advanced EMT training); and Vermont, Goddard College in the Fall. Wow.

We filled him full of as much good mezze (yummy Lebanese food, e.g. humous, babaganouj, tabbbouli, grilled meat) as possible and tried our luck at finding him another pair of pants that were PLAIN and CLASSIC, a major challenge in Beirut’s shops, where fashion and fancy are the by-words.

I have started a new Arabic class, at the French Cultural Center. It is a particular challenge as I have the opportunity to use my inadequate French as well as stumble along trying to understand the Arabic. I am not the very most lost person in the “False Beginner” class, which helps, but I am close! My classmates are more fluent in putting sentences together, but don’t necessarily have formal training. All that work conjugating verbs is serving me well. It’s an interesting group--all women: several French ladies, one Spanish, a Brit, one Turkish, one Ukrainian, one from Belarus who speaks perfect French, and one Iranian who owns a house in DC and who runs a salmon farm! Most have Lebanese husbnads. The class is entirely focused on speaking, 99% of the time in Arabic, leaving us to try to follow as best we can. It is way scary but seems just what I need now. My teacher has some tiny shred of the warmth of my former colleagues Thong and Mary Beth, which helps enormously. Previously I had been in a one on one tutorial with a talented Palestinian teacher whom I liked a great deal, but it was expensive ($25/hour) and I think being in a class adds a useful dimension.