Beautiful—a little less hazy and we could have seen the Mediterranean from the ski slopes! We went on a trip organized by a local environmental NGO. There was a whole busload of us,
mostly Lebanese but 6 of us Americans and 5 or 6 French. We went to Faqra, one of the smaller ski areas, with two lifts and just a few runs (that we could see, anyway), less than an hour and a half from Beirut. We stopped at about 45 minutes to pick up snowshoes—one size fits all [REI fans cringe here], and 15 minutes later a snack (a saj, dough rolled thin and cooked to order on a large, domed griddle; we ordered our sprinkled with thyme and sumac mixture). Fortified, it was on to the slopes. The weather was comfortable, the trail moderate, and the views gorgeous. I was walking with a preschool teacher from Texas (Austin, Jill!) who had never seen so much snow—that was fun. [--See her You Tube video of the trip at http://www.youtube.com/v/o7wG86LmP_Y&rel=1">]
mostly Lebanese but 6 of us Americans and 5 or 6 French. We went to Faqra, one of the smaller ski areas, with two lifts and just a few runs (that we could see, anyway), less than an hour and a half from Beirut. We stopped at about 45 minutes to pick up snowshoes—one size fits all [REI fans cringe here], and 15 minutes later a snack (a saj, dough rolled thin and cooked to order on a large, domed griddle; we ordered our sprinkled with thyme and sumac mixture). Fortified, it was on to the slopes. The weather was comfortable, the trail moderate, and the views gorgeous. I was walking with a preschool teacher from Texas (Austin, Jill!) who had never seen so much snow—that was fun. [--See her You Tube video of the trip at http://www.youtube.com/v/o7wG86LmP_Y&rel=1">]After 5 kilometers or so we came to a fairly steep hill to descend, and proceeded by sitting down and lifting our big, snowshoe-clad feet to slide down. Ever graceful, I wobbled about along my slide and headed straight toward a rock outcropping. I reached out with my hand to help steer my unwieldy self, and emerged at the bottom of the hill with a finger that wouldn’t bend in the correct place. It didn’t hurt, just looked odd. I grabbed a handful of snow to keep it from swelling.
Later, back in Beirut we headed to the American University Hospital, just a few blocks from our apartment, to have it looked at. They wanted to X-ray but the wedding ring needs to come off, they say. Various quite painful attempts to remove it. I decide their ring cutter is one of those tools that you get here that are made in China out of some soft metal that is just not worth it: our hammer is totally pitted from efforts to pound a nail into the concrete wall; our frying pan rusts; various other metal items have bent or snapped.. Finally they say they can X-ray it with the ring on. The X-ray has a stair step look; the finger is dislocated. Later we will learn a small piece of bone chipped off as well—probably while trying to remove the dang ring, I think. They will have to anesthetize the arm to remove the ring, which requires hospital check in, and as it is after 5 pm I will have to spend the night…
Differences between hospitals in the US and here include:
• 5 men in white coats come in to my room for rounds (well, it is a teaching hospital, but there do seem to be lots more staff attending patients in general, especially the emergency room)
• Paperwork. The volume is less but the process more cumbersome—stand, or more likely, bunch, in one “line”, get a paper passed to you, stand/bunch in another line which happens to be exactly next to the previous one, with the employee sitting arm’s length from first person, to hand same paper to them
• It is actually quiet. I am woken up only once during the night
• My room has a Mediterranean view, visible from the bed!!
• The 10th floor window actually opens, and has no screen
• Breakfast! Hard boiled egg with zatar (thyme mixture) and salt, a whole tomato, a thick slice of cheese like feta, a pat of real butter, three types of bread (square white slice, pita, and a roll), halvah (sweet sesame butter), a large sprig of fresh mint, five olives (with pit), and--ready?—a chocolate croissant. Also instant coffee, tea bag, hot water, large thing of hot milk, container of orange juice and bottle of water. And then a cart passes by with newspapers in three languages. That, and my Mediterranean view--Ahhh I could have stayed all day no problem.
Not different from US—nurses speak two or three languages
The finger doesn’t hurt, by the way, which is nice. I do have to wear a contraption on it for a couple of weeks or so. The wedding ring sure looks like toast but will be taken to a clever Lebanese jeweler to see what they can do.
---------------------------------------------
Signs seen on the way to the snow:
Happy Electro House
Happy Wall Paint
Snack Eat & Meet
Note: plenty of odd French ones, too
Later, back in Beirut we headed to the American University Hospital, just a few blocks from our apartment, to have it looked at. They wanted to X-ray but the wedding ring needs to come off, they say. Various quite painful attempts to remove it. I decide their ring cutter is one of those tools that you get here that are made in China out of some soft metal that is just not worth it: our hammer is totally pitted from efforts to pound a nail into the concrete wall; our frying pan rusts; various other metal items have bent or snapped.. Finally they say they can X-ray it with the ring on. The X-ray has a stair step look; the finger is dislocated. Later we will learn a small piece of bone chipped off as well—probably while trying to remove the dang ring, I think. They will have to anesthetize the arm to remove the ring, which requires hospital check in, and as it is after 5 pm I will have to spend the night…
Differences between hospitals in the US and here include:
• 5 men in white coats come in to my room for rounds (well, it is a teaching hospital, but there do seem to be lots more staff attending patients in general, especially the emergency room)
• Paperwork. The volume is less but the process more cumbersome—stand, or more likely, bunch, in one “line”, get a paper passed to you, stand/bunch in another line which happens to be exactly next to the previous one, with the employee sitting arm’s length from first person, to hand same paper to them
• It is actually quiet. I am woken up only once during the night
• My room has a Mediterranean view, visible from the bed!!
• The 10th floor window actually opens, and has no screen
• Breakfast! Hard boiled egg with zatar (thyme mixture) and salt, a whole tomato, a thick slice of cheese like feta, a pat of real butter, three types of bread (square white slice, pita, and a roll), halvah (sweet sesame butter), a large sprig of fresh mint, five olives (with pit), and--ready?—a chocolate croissant. Also instant coffee, tea bag, hot water, large thing of hot milk, container of orange juice and bottle of water. And then a cart passes by with newspapers in three languages. That, and my Mediterranean view--Ahhh I could have stayed all day no problem.
Not different from US—nurses speak two or three languages
The finger doesn’t hurt, by the way, which is nice. I do have to wear a contraption on it for a couple of weeks or so. The wedding ring sure looks like toast but will be taken to a clever Lebanese jeweler to see what they can do.
---------------------------------------------
Signs seen on the way to the snow:
Happy Electro House
Happy Wall Paint
Snack Eat & Meet
Note: plenty of odd French ones, too
1 comment:
I was quite unaware that snow was as close as it apparently is.I am glad there doesn't seem to be any permanent damage to your finger. It is terrific to see you still having so much fun. d and d
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