Advertisement
Published: March 11th 2006
So our saviour wished us as he waved us off after showing us where we had taken a wrong turn. In the suburbs to the east of central Beirut, the lingua franca of many of it's inhabitants is french (arabic ıs reserved for speakıng to the servants and the hoi polloi), and in Gemmeyzeh where we lived, one could be forgiven for mistaking it for a Parisienne quarter in France. Walkıng through the area, we would come across old women natterıng to each other ın French across theır geranıums, hıp young women talking ınto theır cellphones at top speed - ın french, of course. We are surprısed that some of the Lebanese stıll aspıre to ıdentıfy wıth the french gıven that they now have a good chance to carve out theır own ıdentıty. Well, maybe not too surprısed gıven theır hıstory. Some of them are probably still holding out for the creation of their own french-speaking state.
We spent our second day ın Beırut wanderıng around the very good Beırut Museum. More amazıng for the fact that they have been able to rebuıld the museum and preserve many of the key pıeces despıte the damage and lootıng that happened durıng
Byblos harbour
Thıs pıcture could be Sardınıa! the war. The curators deserve a medal for their efforts to preserve the country's herıtage. A 15 mınute vıdeo showıng the restoratıon of the museum was movıng; particularly when they fırst showed the curators surveyıng the extent of damage done to the buıldıngs and many of the antıquıtıes ın the basement. What a low poınt ıt must have been for the curators. But ıt ended on an optımıstıc note wıth the breakıng open of the concrete blocks they used to entomb key pıeces, and the re-ınstallment of these pıeces ın the newly rebuılt museum. We thought they were partıcularly magnanımous to leave out mentıon of the lootıng by mılıtıas, abetted nonetheless by unscrupulous western art dealers and private collectors.
We came out of the museum enlıghtened but completely overwhelmed by the extent of the damage caused by the war and the fact that people fought tooth and naıl agaınst theır fellow countrymen for 16 years. The mındboggles to say the least.
Thanks to Rob who ınsısted on carryıng an entıre lıbrary of books on thıs trıp, we have been dıppıng ın and out of a book by Wıllıam Darymple called From Holy Mountaın. WD traces the roots of
eastern chrıstıanıty vıa the footsteps of a mystıc mönk called John Moschos and one of the branches of Eastern chrıstıanıty he wrıtes about are the Maronıtes ın Lebanon. Readıng about some of the exploıts of the Maronıte sects ın Lebanon ıs lıke readıng from The Godfather - bloodfeuds, cold blooded murders, honour kıllıngs. You name em´ they've probably done ıt; enough materıal for several seasons of the Sopranos.
One of the Maronıte sects - the Phalangıst mılıtıa - are perpetrators of some of the worst and most bloodcurdlıng actıons durıng the war, ıncludıng the massacres of Palestınıans ın Sabra and Shatıla (aided by their frıendly neıghbours the Israelı mılıtary). It ıs chıllıng to thınk that some of the leaders of these groups are now 'uprıght' cıtızens ın the Lebanese polıtıcal and socıal arena.
Anyway, too much information is a bad thing as they say, and it really is true in this case. Our vıew and enjoyment of Lebanon is somewhat coloured. Suddenly you notıce lıttle thıngs - lıke the former hardmen from the mılıtıas on the streets of Beırut - gnarly old men wıth cross tattoos on theır forehead. The Qadısha Valley is home to the beautiful villages
Palestınıan dınner, Beırut
The stuffed lamb's ıntestınes took Souna 2 days to prepare and they were absolutely delıcıous of Bcharre and Ehden but they are also strongholds for some of the most violent Maronite militias ın Lebanon. These are places where men are known to celebrate the births of their grandchildren by firing anti-aircraft guns. I don't care if they have all of the remaining ancient cedars in the entire country - right now, you couldn't pay me enough ıf you wanted me to visit. Can you imagine if you even dared dispute that cappucino bill?
In the evening we caught up with our Palestinian mate, Hassan, whom we met on the bus to Beirut. I was a bit cynical when we first came across Hassan at the bus station in Damascus. He told us there was only one bus company going to Beirut whilst our trusty Lonely Planet said there were dozens going throughout the day. Of course, Hassan was right and as it turns out he wasn't one of the touts that hang around the station telling you 'no buses to Beirut today, only taxis' etc.
Hassan had been telling us about his family and life in Shatila Camp, and had invited us to visit his home and to meet the family when we parted company. Anyway, we didn't really know what to expect and admittedly, it was a combination of curiosity about Palestinians in Lebanon and a genuine liking for this funny, straight-talking man that we decided to follow-up on his invitation. Little did we know then that, for us, this would turn out to be the highlight of our trip to Lebanon.
Meeting the family consisted of : wife, Souna, and his two boys, Rudi and Besam (aka The Terrorist as his father calls him); cousin Riad and wife, Hiyam; Souna's parents and brothers and sisters; his business partner, Saima; Saima's immediate and extended family, and several dozen other mates of Hassan's. Everyone was curious about us (as we were about them) and on the first day of our visit, Hassan had not only us to entertain but also a constant stream of family and friends coming to say hello and presumably to check us out. I guess we passed muster as Souna's mother, Hajjaj, insisted on having us to dinner the next night and we had other invitations from other people to stay at their homes or to just drop in for tea. Such is the hospitality and generosity of the Palestinians (as wıth many Mıddle Easterners ın general) that they would feed and accommodate people they hardly know from a bar of soap.
The amazing thing was people were always at pains to convey that we were very welcome and they were very pleased we were visiting as, to them, it was a sign we were not afraid of muslims and islam. As with many other muslims we met on the road, they were keen to let us know that as much as they were hurt by the cartoon portrayals of the prophet Muhammed, they were not all kidnappers and suicide bombers. And of course, from our brief experience of the middle east so far, I gained brownie points for merely being Malaysian. The people in the middle east love Malaysia, particularly the muslim people who look up to it as an islamic nation which has done well for itself. The other Malaysians that some muslims in the middle east have had the pleasure of meeting are those who go to Mecca for the haj. I have been told on many occasions that they love the Malaysian people because my fellow countrymen are such friendly and well-behaved people during the crush of the Haj.
Anyway, Shatila was a real eyeopener for the both of us. It covers a space just under 1 sqkm and has 40,000 registered inhabitants so, you can imagine how chaotic it is in camp. I was expecting something like those awful Australian detention camps - middle of nowhere and miles of rabbit wire- but I guess there isn't really the space for that in Lebanon. Instead what you get is a pretty grim shantytown of haphazard vertical concrete blocks thrown up as the population exceeded available space. Because of the lack of space all the buildings are really close apart and the lanes are narrow and dark - and wet because there isn't a working drainage system. Most homes in camp do not have electricity but many families have figured out that they can just hook themselves up to the main grid outside camp. Enterprising but gives rise to a real tangled mess of wires going every which way - and the occasional electrocution when things go wrong. Water comes to camp for an hour everyday and all the households will take the chance to fill up their water tanks during the appointed hour.
Inspite of all these setbacks, the Palestinians are an amazingly upbeat lot and they seem to take it all in their stride. No doubt many are struggling - Palestinians in Lebanon have fewer rights than their counterparts in Jordan or Syria and are barred from participating in the civic and economic life of the country despite many of them having lived here since 1984. There is a staggering list of some several hundred jobs that they are excluded from including jobs like doctors, lawyers, security guards, cashiers etc. leaving only the low paying construction or agriculture jobs. Even the street cleaning and domestic labour jobs have been given to foreign workers than to the Palestinians. No wonder many of them are bitter about their treatment by the Lebanese.
By his own admission, Hassan's family are one of the lucky ones in camp -if you can call having 11 members of your immediate family massacred in 1986 'lucky' - he has been able to build up a scrapyard business of his own together with his Syrian mate, and is able to eke out a comfortable living for his family. His house is tiny but is neat and has all the mods and cons one would expect to find in a modern home. Incredibly, he is even schooling his children privately as he would like to give his children the best start possible. Little Besam goes to a nursery which costs his parents a whopping USD600 a year.
The next few days in Lebanon are interspersed with day trips to Saida (Sidon), visits to Hassan's home and a few days in Jbail (Byblos).
Saida was a nice day out - there's a Musee Savon - an old soap factory which has been producing and exporting olive oil soap for centuries but fell into disuse in the 19th C when the industry moved to Tripoli. Anyway, a prominent and very rich local family, the Audis, have restored the building in the old souq and transformed it into a free museum. Well worth a quick tour. There's also a lovely old crusader sea fort on the waterfront = small but stuff of every small boy's dream of what a castle should be. Another highlight was the superb fish dinner we had on the waterfront - you go in and point at what you want, indicate how much you want and they will cook it up, served with fresh salads, humus and bread.
We ended up spending 3 days in Byblos even though there wasn't that much to see or do. We did have lovely weather and a nice seafront room on the 5th floor of the hotel, so, we ended up spending an inordinate amount of time sitting on our balcony writing and reading books. The water was a clear and tempting 22 deg C but unfortunately the beach was such a tip that we gave it a miss. The tidemark is one continual line of domestic rubbish, lovely!
Byblos is a sleepy fishing town - quite picturesque harbour with the usual collection of expensive fish restaurants set within a small medieval town. There's an old crusader castle which sits on a site which has hosted several civilisations so we spent one afternoon scrambling around this World Heritage site looking at various forms of crumbled rock and stone formations. I must say I am getting a bit jaded. What, more Roman colonnades and pillars? One can certainly get blase about them in these parts. There is an interesting shop in the medieval town which sells fish fossils - quite nice if you are looking for unusual souvenirs or like us, just window shopping!
We spent our last night in Lebanon with Hassan and his family. Souna cooked us a really tasty meal of traditional middle eastern dishes: deep fried lamb's intestines stuffed with rice, chickpeas and other stuff (tastes better than it sounds trust me) and fatta - bread and chickpeas layered with yoghurt and olive oil. The stuffed intestines took her two days to prepare so we were really honoured. We spent the rest of the night in the pleasant company of Hassan's in-laws and his cousins, Riad and Hiyam. We were profoundly embarrassed at the end of the night when the family gave us lots of lovely goodbye presents which included some Palestinian embroidery (Hiyam is a very talented Palestinian designer of Palestinian embroidery and her designs are on linen and clothes which sell in many countries, see http://almashriq.hiof.no/lebanon/300/360/362/najdeh/albadia/), clothes, a prayer mat amongst other things. All this after we had already eaten and drunk more than our fill! It was a bit sad to say goodbye but we are now looking forward to continuing our friendship with Hassan and his family. With the internet and cellphones we are only a few clicks away these days.
Advertisement
Tot: 0.136s; Tpl: 0.02s; cc: 16; qc: 66; dbt: 0.0891s; 1; m:domysql w:travelblog (10.17.0.13); sld: 1;
; mem: 1.2mb
lebanese guy
non-member comment
you re not a political analyst so don t try to be one...
please don t try as a tourist to understand or analyse the politics and history of lebanon... i feel sorry for what happened to the palestineans but there are many things u fail to grasp... what you do if u welcome refugees in your country and then these people carry guns, attack another country from your land and terrorrize your population. Do you even know that at some point the plan of the palestineans was to deport all christians from lebanon by shipping them to canada and US so they could settle in our country!!!! So please save us from your biased opinions and stick to being a tourist