My friend Patrick just left Lebanon last night after a solid week of exploring the country. I had a great time going all over the place and enjoying the beauty of this amazing country, but I'm happy to sit back and relax again in the village.
On Saturday, we started the morning with a drive up to Beit Meri and the ruins at Deir el Qalaa. I had signed us both up for a walking tour of Beirut, which was a little more of an undertaking than I had anticipated. We met our guide, Ronnie, at the entrance of AUB, and then started what turned out to be a 5.5 hour tour of the city. Quite possibly the longest walking tour I have ever taken, it was well worth it, and I finally feel like I really know the different neighborhoods of Beirut. While walking, everyone kept asking about a very distinct popping noise echoing through the city. I just said "probably" when Paddy asked if it was construction going on. Ronnie, however, revealed the truth when one of the Solidere security guards in town told the group, "Watch out for falling metal." The parliament had confirmed the election of Saad Hariri as Prime Minister that afternoon, and March 14th supporters were shooting guns in the air in celebratory fashion. I suppose it just adds to the atmosphere.
A little more than half-way through the tour, we stopped for a drink in Saifi Village, and I ran into my friend Mohamad, confirming that Beirut really is a small place. It was very interesting checking out the old Beirut Synagogue downtown. It is in dire need of maintenance, but it made it through all of the wars and conflicts largely unscathed (ironically, the Israelis actually destroyed the roof while shelling in 1982), and it sits in quiet witness of the historical openness and diversity of Lebanon.
One of our fellow walkers was a young lady from Ireland that managed to improve on the commentary in almost every stop. In front of the newly opened Syrian embassy in Beirut, she said, "That's the cleanest Syrian flag I've ever seen. They don't make 'em that clean in Syria - must be a Lebanese thing."
Standing in Martyrs Square looking over at the burial site of Hariri outside the massive mosque his money built, our Irish friend said, "They killed the man and put him in a tent! I don't want a tent. Seems they could do better than that."
Even in front of the statue of an assasinated journalist, her honesty brought on some laughter. "What was this fellow's name?"
"Samir Assir"
"Well that's a stupid name."
Having enjoyed each other's company for almost half of the day, the whole group decided to go out to dinner together in a small restaurant in Hamra, and it was a great meal with great conversation.
Sunday was an easy day with lunch at Isabelle's and then a quick jaunt up to Harissa and Notre Dame du Liban. Paddy, Mounira and I even stuck around for mass in the Basilica before heading home. On Monday, I had intended to take Paddy to the Jeita Grotto and the Khalil Gibran museum, but it turns out that both of those sites are closed on Mondays. I suppose I failed the tour guide test on that one, but we still packed a lot into one day. We visited the convent at Sayedti an-Nouriyeh, the Monestary of St. Antoine Qozhaya, had lunch in Bscharre and then made our way to the Cedars. It was a bit cloudy in Wadi Qadisha and up at the Cedars, so the views weren't as stunning as they could have been. Feeling a bit adventurous, I decided that instead of backtracking to the highway, we would take the small road over the second highest peak in the Middle East and into the Bekaa. As we climbed to almost 3,000 meters in altitude, we made it above the cloudline and had an incredible view of the Bekaa valley on one side and the fluffy white clouds on the other. The cool crisp fresh air and the patches of snow were too much to resist, and we spent quite a while enjoying the peak. After a couple of hours of dodging holes in the roads of the Bekaa, we got a little lost in Zahle looking for the road back over the mountain to Roumieh, but eventually we found it and made it to dinner a couple hours late.
The next day, we took it easy in the morning and then went to Jeita and Byblos in the afternoon. I became an unofficial guide at the caves not only for Paddy, but also for the two other Americans there that afternoon. In the evening, we had dinner at a Japanese-Italian restaurant in downtown Beirut. I think Paddy got it right when he said, "Look, they're already apologizing, the restaurant's name is Scoozi." The food was fine, but nothing more - I just couldn't turn down a chance to eat at such a random establishment. After dinner, we had a drink at El Gardel in the Gemmayze neighborhood, known for their bars and pubs. Once we realized that we were there on French music night, we moved down the street to a very traditional little coffee house/restaurant where we smoked Arguileh and listened to some live music. The performers played classic songs from the Arab world as the audience clapped and/or danced along.
Yesterday, we ended up going down to the South to check out the Roman ruins in Tyre. We ate some Knefe at Al Baba sweets in Saida on the way down, and then continued into Hizbollah territory. As we were exiting the highway into Tyre, I stopped for some guys handing out propoganda on the street. They were offering commemorative booklets on Hizbollah's victory in the 2006 war with Israel in exchange for donations. It was a small booklet, but it was full of photos and information from the conflict, and I was really curious to get a chance to look through it. Unfortunately, the USD$2 I was willing to offer for it was not enough for the guy I was negotiating with, and my Arabic skills were too limited to push the issue further. When he was trying to get me to give him $5 and offering to give me change for larger bills, I was having difficulty understanding, and instead of saying "I don't understand," I kept repeating to him, "You don't understand, you don't understand." He was a little confused but thought he didn't understand how much I wanted the book. Finally, I gave up, and drove off without my book. Just as well, I suppose; making donations to Hizbollah is frowned upon where I come from.
As we were leaving Tyre, we managed to catch the song "Danger Zone" from Top Gun on the radio, and we couldn't resist turning it up to add to the atmosphere of the UN tanks and Lebanese Army checkpoints along with the larger than life cardboard cutouts of Hassan Nasrallah and Hizbollah flags. Passing through Saida again, we stopped for a sandwich and to load up on sweets before returning to Roumieh. We ended the day with a great dinner at Jeddo Mike's, and enjoyed his stories.
This really is a spectacular place, and some day, I hope, they will find a way to live in peace and prosperity.
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