New mantra…

Tom says his 16 years in the Tacoma School District prepared him well for Lebanon: everything’s a process, and there’s one more step.

Ah, the inefficiencies. But you can’t get mad—everyone is used to it and they are so kind. Things will happen insha’Allah, if God wills it. The ATM cards we ordered when we set up an account at a local bank finally came (had to pick them up at the bank; the only other option was to have them delivered to our apartment, but then we would have had to give (not just show) the delivery person a copy of our passports as proof of identity). We tried to use the cards but the PIN numbers they had sent us weren’t for the cards, they were for on-line banking, so we had to order ATM PIN numbers, which took another 2 days and another trip to the bank, which is only open from 8:15 – 1:00. On Sunday I spent 2 ½ hours locating and riding 2 buses to get to the Friends Meeting up in the hills outside Beirut. Overshot it by a kilometer or two, but would have been nearly an hour late anyway; the return trip was only an hour. Next week I’ll get there! We haven’t gotten mail in over a week and consequently the credit card bill wasn’t paid in time. I finally had to call overseas to an 800 number [not] and wait on hold to get the billing address. Similar problems with the mortgage surfaced today.

On the upside: One remarkable irony is how safe we feel. Women walk alone, in tight T-shirts, low cut capris, heels and lots of jewelry, even late at night—no lewd remarks and no fear. You have to reach over to the bus driver to hand him money as you leave the bus, which has two open doors for people to come and go at will. The driver carries a huge wad of bills. Sidewalks are small and home to numerous obstacles like posts, chains, holes, chunks of concrete, signs, motorbikes, cars (!), holes, plastic jugs collecting runoff, steps, etc. So when you pass by someone coming from the other direction, you often come very close. I don’t even bother to clutch my handbag anymore. We rarely count our change. The local produce seller (Mr. Haj—not his real name but a term of respect because he has been to Mecca) regularly throws in an extra pear or handful of plums to the kilo of fruit we buy. We do look both ways crossing a street, especially a one-way street… But we are completely at ease where valuables, money and personal safety are concerned.

I started Arabic classes this week, thankfully. It is so good to have even a few words, and people are so thrilled when you try to use them I have no qualms about asking a shopkeeper to help me recite the numbers, or conjugate a verb. I have a good teacher, Nada, and I keep thinking about and appreciating the great ladies—the very talented and experienced teachers--I worked with in Tacoma. They had to teach English completely in English; my teacher (Nada is her name/Ishma Nada) liberally uses English and French (for the French-speaking students) when teaching Arabic. It certainly makes it easier for me, especially learning the alphabet. There are 28 letters, which take different forms depending on whether they are at the beginning (right to left!), middle or end of a word, and whether they are handwritten or printed by a machine… Like French, nouns are masculine or feminine. Fortunately, there seem to be consistent word endings that work for male and female pronouns as well as verbs and nouns, so that helps.! I have 3 2-hour classes a week, and homework. It is really good to be doing something

I’ll leave you with a couple of curious sightings:

• an advertisement for Desperate Housewives on the Al Jazeera English TV station
• a Moslem lady with a full brown headscarf and hip length tunic, wearing camouflage capris and high heels below