We Ride

Tomorrow we ride. 

With a little luck, I'll be updating this super often again, but if not, then not. I'm finished with Beirut. It's time to go. Zach has his new passport and we're both antsy. This evening, as we were walking west with a shelled out skeleton of a building on our left and marble-floor bank on our right, I told him about all the somber conversations I had before I left home. About how I told friends I'd be touring THE middle east this summer with at least a little exaggerated drama in my voice. And look at this. Where are we? Where a bar called the Library has a $50 cover charge to get in? We passed a ferrari parked to the left and up ahead American hip hop was blaring through open windows and the sweat rolled down our faces in the liquid heat of the night. It's August now.

But tomorrow, we head for Syria. 

Reflections:

Give me a moment because gin and tonics are washing over my eyes right now. And there's a skyy blue bottle of vodka on the table in this penthouse suite. I can read Arabic now. I can recognize key words in conversations. I have a much better idea of geography, cultural disparity within the region, history, politics, religious rubbing points, and, most importantly, economics. I've lost just about all faith in the idea of cultural miscommunications, and religion based conflicts. What I see around me are power struggles differing very little from school-yard shenanigans, and a worship of a very different kind. In America, we have in God we trust on our money. In Lebanon they have in the dollar we trust as a religious institution. But maybe that's just cynicism. I read a book by an Egyptian feminist author called Woman at Point Zero. There's a scene where she's describing all the pious men leaving mosque and slapping each other on the backs over a good sermon and a lovely connection to God. Then they go home and beat their wives. That stands as a lovely little metaphor for so much of what I've seen regarding the nature of values professed and lived and killed for and the actions that immediately follow them. I've seen "conversations" begin about Hezbollah for the sole intention of starting a fight. I've held conversations with some of the most lecherous individuals I can imagine with icons of whatever sect they happen to represent glowing just over their shoulders. This isn't an attack on anyone or anything except for the sorry belief that violence and conflict here is about anything beyond money and power. When those two issues aren't at stake, people don't seem to notice religious differences nearly so much. 

Tonight we talked about modernization and whether we think secularized egalitarianism is inevitable or something that needs to be worked for (the question of whether that was a good thing or the natural definition of "progress" never came up). We seemed to agree that it was coming one way or another. Of course the woman who lectured us on Wednesday about women's rights in Lebanon reminded us that in the average house, the wife works, then cooks and cleans while the husband reads the newspaper, goes to the cafe with his friends, and the 18 year old son sees that and continues the lifestyle of "listening to Michael Jackson, putting grease in his hair and dancing in the streets while expecting his mother or his sister to make his bed, cook his food and wait on him." But I don't know. What I see is a handful of conservative religious fanatics, and a boatload of self-conceived "modern people" who want to be this or that, go clubbing, watch art films, travel abroad, work in commerce - in short, the division of dreams in the western sense. I can't help but assume the pursuit of individuality, self-definition based off dreams and goals, is followed by a recognition of the autonomy of others and ultimately, human rights. 

The position of women in this society is far from equal, but there are major gains every day, and so long as being modern is ranked among the highest of virtues, I must assume all efforts will ultimately yield all the implications of modernity. 

Beirut is not a lovely place, but it is a fascinating one. All things considered, it's probably my least favorite part of Lebanon which is a gorgeous and interesting place otherwise. Beirut is fancy and impotent. There is a freedom of the press here that exists nowhere else in the Arab world, but there's also a strange superficiality that stares at your shoes through Ray Ban (or Roy and Bon) sunglasses and tells you what a failure at life you are through the simple comment of "you wont get laid dressing like that." There's a party culture here and an us v them culture that dominates most of what you see on the surface. But so too is there an incredible love for Lebanon and a strange patriotism that unites everyone without their consent. There feeling of civil war is never vacant for a moment, but so too is a feeling of profound security rooted in the idea that the people around here are too pragmatic to open fire on each other and prefer to read, educate themselves, make money, and grumble about everyone else behind closed doors. 

Saj is delicious, halloum cheese on pita bread with pickles, cucumbers, tomatoes, olives, and mint leaves. 

My camera got broken somehow. It still takes pictures fine but the screen is cracked so I can't see the pictures during or after I take them. Luckily Zach has an extra camera he found in a ditch in Green Bay that I'll use until we part ways. 

Funny Sign I saw: Kavorkian Pharmacy

Interesting discovery I've made: There really is such a thing as an American! I've had countless conversations with Saudi-Americans, Lebanese-Americans, Palestinian-Americans, etc, as well as Brits, Germans, and an assortment of locals. There is something that those raised in America (even if only until 12 or 13 years old) have in their demeanor, the way we communicate, what seems reasonable/natural/extraordinary, that is completely lacking in all others. I feel a huge gulf of communication between myself and the British that I don't feel at all with the Arabs who spent part of their childhoods in America. And it's not an ideology thing. Politics, worldviews, taste in music aside, it's just something that comes out naturally, rises to the surface during an average conversation. 

Anyway, it's 3 am and I need to get some sleep. My next post will probably be from Syria. 

All of my love,

tcm