It's a beautiful day in the neighborhood....

A couple of weeks ago on a Sunday Derek and I were both working when we heard someone yelling for help. It turned out that the old woman from across the street had locked herself out of her apartment and was caught between her front door and the security gate. She was a frail woman, probably in her 70's, shivering in her bathrobe yelling for help. Luckily we heard her. Kamal, the security guard from our building, helped us find a locksmith to come and let her in. We waited with her for the locksmith. Derek brought her hot tea and a blanket. Anne from across the street was curious when she saw us from her balcony so she came over to offer help, too. It was a pretty traumatic episode for this woman and we were just glad that we got there before it got worse. Derek, always the resourceful one, took this opportunity to take a couple pictures of the neighborhood. These are taken from the 5th floor balcony across the street from where we live. This is our street.



This is Fadlallah Building- our home! We are the third apartment from the bottom on the left. That's the little garden that was completely brown and dying when we moved in. It still has a long way to go but at least it's green again.

The Beirut Mar-a-thon!

Every year about 30,000 people turn out to run the Beirut Marathon. It's quite the event! The city prepares for it all year. They divide the race into 3 lengths keeping it open to everyone. There is a 5k, 10k, and of course, the 42k Marathon. The funny thing is when people talk about it they don't distinguish. They just say "I'm running the marathon", which really means you're running 10k, not the marathon. Minor details. I hadn't planned on participating but Phoebe was going to walk with some of her students from school so I decided last minute to join them.
This picture above is the Corniche (pronounced corn-eesh) and is a highway/ boulevard that circumvents the city along the coast. It actually used to be part of the sea. About 5 years ago they literally pushed the coastline out and constructed this road. It's great for walking and people watching, but I have to say I'd vote for traffic over building into the sea.

So the 10k portion of the race began on the corniche (this is the starting crowd in the shot above.) We walked past my school and then weaved up into the Hamra neighborhood. We actually walked right past our apartment at which point I tried unsuccessfully to get Derek to join us.
I know this picture is dark but I thought it very cool that someone was walking the 10k on stilts. There were a lot of people dressed in costumes. This is a total social event for people and families of Beirut. Most of the people that walk it are walking for a cause like Cancer organizations, Human Rights Watch, Don't do Drugs, etc. and they all wear matching t-shirts. Of course there are chants and songs. It's really quite festive. Along the route there were bands playing various music. Going up the hill there was a radio dj playing techno to pump people up for the hike up the hill. I also thought it was funny that so many people were stopping along the way for a bite to eat! That's the Lebanese for you.

We made it to the finish line! There were so many people walking on the narrow streets of Beirut that it was hard to keep a fast pace. It took us a little under 2 hours to walk just 10k! But we had a lot of fun along the way. The race ended downtown by the Hariri mosque (see below). There were so many people in the crowd it was utter chaos. But luckily Phoebe and I maneuvered our way free and found refuge in the closest bar.

Thanksgiving in Beirut

Derek and I hosted Thanksgiving dinner on the Saturday after Thanksgiving. The Lebanese insist on working on Thanksgiving! We had about 14 Americans and Canadians to our place and everyone chipped in by bringing a dish of their liking. It wasn't the most traditional Thanksgiving- we had Thai noodles, and Lebanese eggplant- but we did have a Turkey, and even a football!! After dinner Derek led the crowd in a game of music trivia. It was a hit! Everyone had a great time. Who doesn't love a casual Thanksgiving dinner 3 days after the holiday?

Here's Tony catching the football!

And here is the feast!
Check out the picture hanging on the wall. That's the "Tree of Thanks" that my kids made for Thanksgiving. They thought I should hang it in my house to decorate for Thanksgiving.

This is our across the hall neighbor, Phoebe, who just so happens to be from Cambridge!

Photo No!

We went out for a lovely walk today. Sunday is a great day for walking in Beirut because so much is closed and there's almost a peacefulness on the streets. Every other day from sunrise to sunset there is traffic and trash and such chaos sometimes you just want to hibernate. But Sundays the hectic lives of Beirutians settles down a bit and those people that you do see are enjoying the quiet, too. Here are a few of the interesting sights we captured along our walk out of Hamra, through downtown, and into another section called Gemmazey.

These two above are from Gemmazey. It's one of the few sections of Beirut that still holds some of the original style and architecture from before the Civil War. It's also the place to go if you like loud clubs and dancing until 5am.

This was graffiti on one of the buildings. I'm not sure if it's a symbol of a certain group or what, but it certainly spoke to me, as if to say, what good can come from war?

This is the famous Holiday Inn that was bombed and destroyed during the Civil War. They have chose to leave it standing as a reminder for what the country went through. I tried to take a better picture but was told no. One of the sad things about Beirut is the security. Hardly a block goes by without a guard or two on the corner, usually armed with a very large weapon. Derek says it makes him feel safe to know that he is being protected. I don't think guns will ever make me feel safe. In any case, these men are not just standing at random corners. They are guarding someone or something, and part of their job is to tell curious visitors like me that photos are not allowed.


The statue above is across the street from this Mosque. If you look closely at the statue you will notice that it has been ripped to shreds by bullets. I believe it is the Statue of Martyrs. In front of this mosque there is a counter with red numbers. There are a few of these around the city, counting the days since Hariri was assassinated. Apparently the plan is to keep counting until the people who committed the crime are found and (probably) punished.



There is a small street in between Hamra and downtown that has preserved some of the older buildings and it's beautiful. The picture above is of one such building that has not been very well preserved, but with the skeleton of the house still in tact and the overflowing blossoms- the sight just took my breath away. Derek is waiting while I take this picture of the old house. The box behind him is also a familiar sight. These are the guard stations, only there was no guard here today.

Home sweet home

As a wedding gift to each other we went rug shopping for a unique Iranian rug. There are many stores in Beirut and we felt a bit intimidated because it's a hefty investment and, basically, we're completely ignorant of quality and intricacies of the rug world. We shopped around a bit and then last night out of the blue came across a lovely store with a very kind owner. It turns out he sells to a lot of the ex-pats in Hamra and we had some friends in common. He served us Turkish coffee while he and his assistant laid out over 20 rugs for us to awe over. We thought we had taken to one when the conversation turned to used rugs. Our eyes lit up at the thought of a "recycled" investment. So he showed us a few that were antique and then one that had just been delivered that morning that was less than 25 years old. It was an absolute steal and we loved it. Here it is in our living room. The place finally feels like home.


We also bought this small Sumac carpet for the hallway by the door. Ali, the owner of the carpet shop, tried to ease our ignorance by enlightening us on the various ways of making carpets. The Sumac style which is the one below, is a flat weave and it's a bit rough to the touch, as opposed to the one above which is soft like velvet. We also learned that rugs ar named after the region they come from in Iran. Each region has it's own style that they produce. What an art!

Douma

About two weeks ago, the director of the pre-school up in the mountains invited us to stay at her summer home for the weekend. They don't stay there themselves for the winter, so it was nearing the end of the season. This tiny village of less than a hundred houses certainly was a nice change of pace; the views speak for themselves. We hiked a bit, relaxed more, and explored around this essentially timeless village.
Interestingly, their servant was a Nepali woman!
The pictures, which include a 4000 year old olive tree (hollowed but still producing!) are found here:

http://picasaweb.google.com/caseyderek816/Douma

El Rancho

Hasher Weekend, 10-08 and 10-09:

Every now and then the Hashers have a camping trip, and what better opportunity to visit El Rancho! Whenever you'd like to shed some misconceptions about Lebanon, just mention the words "El Rancho", and say no more.

The trip there is worth mentioning. We were told to meet at a hotel at 9am sharp, which naturally turned out to be 9:45 before picking up other people at quite random locations.

The first stop, however, to keep the 24 cases of beer cold (for all 40 of us, mind you) was the Ice Man. Yes, our massive bus rattled through side streets and quickly maneuvered a spot. A few hashers exited and entered this little shop as the rest of us awaited. How funny was it not only to see them wake up the shopkeep, who was easily seen sleeping on a tiny cot; funnier still was the retrieval of the ice. Two huge blocks of ice were ceremoniously carried onto the bus and placed on top of the cooler. Needless to say, those chunks were worthless their only purpose.

Three stops later, we headed up the mountain, about an hour northeast of the city, until once again pausing at a scenic spot above the city. I guess they call themselves "The Mismanagement" for a reason: the bus was too big for the last few kilometers.

So two vehicles took turns loading supplies and us to the campsite, the first ever group to stay, despite being open for a year. Book your next trip now: www.elrancholebanon.com

Of course they have had visitors, just not a massive group like ours. Speaking of massive, their land was absolutely enormous. There is still much work to be done, like the teepees that have their own bathrooms in the 'basement', but as the land stretched and the ostriches, horses, and cows came into view, one thing was clear: a lot of money was being invested in this surreal place.

Naturally, the first stop was paintball, about a half hour walk down the mountain. Casey and I didn't participate, upholding our pacifist ideals to the extreme, but it was hilarious watching the different personalities compete: the timid, hiding behind the door; the daring, running amok (including a small gash on the bald guy's head); and those who made damn sure they used all their ammo ASAP. The picture doesn't do much justice, but the area was rather small, and the visitors' area wasn't as safe as presumed.

The hasher run, then, followed in the early afternoon. I don't think we knew that when we started, we'd end up on a 3-hour, 13 km excursion up and down the mountainside, but the beginning certainly was enjoyable. Only once did we pass a heap of trash to the left, thankfully, otherwise winding through villages. We tasted our first figs fresh from a tree and talked with a Lebanese man who had just returned from Edmonton, of all places.

The sketchy part came after our refreshment break. There are supposed to be little H marks to ensure the correct path, but once arriving at a peak and seeing the road below, we had to traverse through thorns, rocks and a steep incline, only to repeat the feat again shortly thereafter. Only the second time, there was a forray into the forest, with absolutely nothing resembling a path. There was another guy with us, who had asked for directions from some locals, but that didn't suffice. I saw a telephone pole and headed towards it, and felt quite bad when the drop was about fifteen feet. Worse still was knowing Casey had to follow, and she already had been nabbed by various thorns and other defenses in nature. Still, we managed. If we look happy in this picture, it is one of relief only; we were not happy with at this point.

Fortunately, of course, the rest of the night was amazing,. The hashers who dressed up, the workers riding up and down the stairs and around the campfire on horses, the songs in various languages, and of course the never-ending refreshments made for an idyllic evening. Forty campers seemed the perfect number. You could talk to the family of the Czech ambassador to Lebanon ("You have diplomatic passports too? How does it feel to know you could kill somebody?" I overhead another say!), the guy who runs the Duty Free shop at the airport, UN workers, journalists, Black Panthers...the list is endless.

The next day, we decided against another walk, and just roamed the grounds. But, if you'll notice the picture on the left and especially the video below, it certainly wasn't the end of the entertainment. About an hour before we left we had an initiation rite. When a hasher goes on six runs and helps organize two, they receive their tarbush--those hats--in a completely honorary way. It was the perfect way to top off the weekend.

Tyre: Part 2

Once we arrived in Tyre/Sour, we took a quick stroll around the port which is the Christian part of the city. It’s old and almost medieval like with its’ narrow pathways between homes and cobble stoned roads. The views around the bend were incredible. This country seems to get more beautiful every place we go! There is actually a nature reserve in Tyre, so the coastline is much more pristine than in Beirut. Plus, they don’t endure the same hefty load of pollution that litters Beirut. Not to say that Tyre is clean- I don’t think I’ve found a place that lives up to that definition yet. Anyway, we walked along the coastline until we happened upon a set of ruins that was seemingly deserted. We didn’t know anything about it which made exploring the small caves and strange stacks of bricks more interesting. Come to find out, this was the old baths in Roman days. There was also a long walkway lined with beautiful marble columns that must have led to some sort of political office. The view from this site would take your breath away- ancient Roman ruins, still surprisingly well preserved for such little protection and the backdrop of the sparkling blue Mediterranean Sea only a stone’s throw away.

After a delightful lunch across from the sea we set out to discover the larger set of ruins in the city. Keeping in the spirit of the day, we had ourselves another little adventure. From where we were in the city the entrance to the ruins was far, far away and people kept insisting we needed to take a taxi to get there. However, we could see the site and thought it was dumb to take a taxi just so we could get to the official entrance. We decided that people that lived in this town wouldn’t hike all over the city to get home so we there must be another way. We followed the fence for awhile and then went down a dirt road that happened to be a city dump. Just as we were about to give up, a few men started shouting at us and pointing. There was a hole in the fence!!! Terrific. So we climbed through and sure enough, there was a clear cut path to the ruins. Once we got there it was incredible. The aqueduct that once brought water to Tyre from 6km south was still standing, surrounding the hypodrome that was used for Chariot races in the ancient days. We climbed to the top of the “stadium seating” and sat for awhile, just picturing the extravagant events that would have taken place in the 2^nd century AD.

Rodridgo explained to us that in ancient days the cemeteries were built on the outside of the city. The one we found at this site was incredible. There were actually still some bones left in the sarcophagi! I couldn’t get enough of these beautiful graves. There was something spiritual about connecting with the death of people from over a thousand years ago. From the levels of intricacy and extravagance you could decipher which were graves of the wealthy and which were those of peasants. The more decorated sarcophagi were closer to the gates and elevated, sometimes up a flight of stairs onto a stage-like structure. Further away from the city walls were smaller and more plain graves. Some of the mosaics on the floor by the graves were still perfectly intact. Can you believe how much time and change this art work has withstood?

One of these tombs was so beautifully enhanced by this flowering plant growing out of the overturned top piece. It made me think of how death always has and always will be a natural part of life.
One of my favorite parts of the trip was leaving the ancient city. After we finished exploring the old graveyard we re-entered the city through the giant archway and then we followed the white stoned road all the way back into the new city of Tyre. There was something almost mystical about walking down this road, still in better condition than some of the roads in Brockton. If I listened hard enough I could hear the carriage wheels and horse hooves carrying peasants, queens and nobleman through the old city.