Ramzi's Blah Blah

No escape?

2006-10-21T18:52:00.000+03:00

I have managed to escape again today!
It seems that he has the weekend off for some reason or other. I overheard him making plans and it sounded like he won't be back till sunday evening. Which has given me the run of the place for a while.

I have toiled for days trying to come up with a plan for escape and it seems there is none. He is my captor and sustainer inseparably. If I were to somehow evade him, or worse kill him, then my own demise would be surely imminent. This place, wherever it is, is like an unmarked grave in a thicket of woods. I would be lost forever. To endure him until I know better where I am seems like my only choice.

But I can't help think of home. I try to remember what it was like when I was last there. The war was raging. Fear, anger and darkness. Much like what I am experiencing now. But I'm sure that the Lebanese have picked up since then. I trust that they have used the tragedy to come together and realize they have none but each other. I can just see them in my mind's eye... Hezbollah supporters acknowledging they made a bad decision and handing their arms to the army, the March 14 bunch saving the "I told you so"s and pushing forward with "freedom, soverignty, independence" and Aoun, well... who knows. I am so sure that's happening all over Lebanon right now, I can feel it.

Help!

2006-10-17T06:16:00.000+03:00

I don't know how much time I have before he returns so I must make this quick!
I have been abducted! I don't know how long it has been or what day it is today but it feels like forever. I have tried to recreate what happened in my head but my memory fails me. All I remember is going to sleep on the sofa with the TV glowing softly in the room. Then nothing. I don't think I'm in Lebanon anymore! I hear a million different languages here and the sounds and smells are alien to me. I am in some apartment somewhere, no windows. Every morning he leaves the house and returns late at night. He has me cuffed to a rail which he used to check religously every hour. But he's getting sloppy. I managed to loosen the cuffs on my wrists a few days ago and I put them back on before he comes back. He left the computer on today and left in a hurry. I can't escape the room though, that door is always locked. If someone is reading this then pl

shit he's back!

Screw. You.

2006-08-16T19:04:00.000+03:00

You worthless talking pile of human excrement.

The only reason Israel hasn't toppled your palace over your head is because they know you are too spineless to ask for anything but to be left at the helm of a rotting regime of fear and death.

I will watch your own countrymen drag you into the street and stomp your cowardly corpse into a pulp.

That day of reckoning is near.

Until then you can carry on being this guy...

Thank You

2006-08-15T19:06:00.000+03:00

For everyone who kept reading this (or other Lebanese) blogs during this war, thank you.
For every kind comment or email, for every hateful one, thank you.
For every warm wish or sentiment, thank you.

Cease Fire, Blow Smoke

2006-08-15T19:02:00.000+03:00

Well the boys playing war over the carcass of this battered nation have decided that the fighting was getting pretty tedious and agreed to cool it off.

And why not? March a mile in their boots and you would probably feel the same way. I fire rockets, you flatten a village, I destroy a tank, you pulverize a bridge. I call you murderer, you call me terrorist. Do that for a month and you'll find the novelty fades away quickly.

Besides, a ceasefire brings with it that exquisite pleasure of claiming victory.

So who won?

Well both. And they've both lost too.

Hezbollah won: Israel's declared objectives of destroying Hezbollah and decapitating its leadership have both failed to materialize. Rockets kept being fired till the final hour. Praise allah, we are victorious.

Israel won: The IDF knew it could never achieve either of those goals. What it really set out to do was destroy what it could get away with (i.e. mostly infrastructure and Hezbollah sympathizers) in order to get a UN resolution that would be more hostile to Hezbollah than 1559. It did.

Hezbollah lost: Yes the leadership is still alive and the rockets kept raining on Haifa, but what Israel brutally destroyed is very dear, and the loss is incalculable. And no, it's not all "fida sirmeyt el-sayyed" (translation: for the sake of Nasrallah's slipper) as some say. You'll miss that roof over your head. And that son or daughter too by the way.

Israel lost: Yes it huffed and puffed and blew the house down, but no "self-defense" argument can justify the manic stomping of a country, innocents dying needlessly on both sides. The whole world sympathized with the cause of rescuing 2 kidnapped soldiers (even some Arab ones), and Israel managed to turn all that sympathetic capital into indignant rage in just 30 days. Why punish all the Lebanese for not disarming Hezbollah when your own 'legendary' IDF was unable to do so, and then only make them look like heroes in the end. Disarming Hezbollah is going to be much harder now. And you have sowed seeds of hate that will blossom well into the future.

So who won? Both did. Who lost? Both did.

But who lost everything and gained nothing? Lebanon. And the moderate, peace-seeking Lebanese.

And that is why our Prime Minister wept.
And I wept with him.

Could it be over?

2006-08-15T19:00:00.000+03:00

Is this it?

No more rushing to the TV live feed to see the smoke plumes?
Or seeing the reporter try to figure out if it was a fighter or warship that fired?
No more breaking-news ribbons on the bottom of the screen?
Or that cute Saliba reporter on LBCI?

I've come to expect the casuality report every morning.
I get anxious when the power cuts out, as if the massacres can't happen if I'm watching the news.
And I've come to recognize the Haifa skyline like I've actually been there.

I never expected this war and it took me by surprise.
I got angry, I cried out for peace, I had countless debates and arguments.
And now it's over just as abruptly as it started.

How can I ever trust in peace again?

It just got (more) personal

2006-08-07T00:18:00.000+03:00

My second cousin is in the army. Or was.
He was stationed in Tyre, to man a prehistoric anti-aircraft gun that could only intimidate migrating birds.
He heard Israeli choppers flying in to drop commandos in a civilian area.

We don't know if he actually managed to get a round fired off or not.
Moments later he became a charred body in a destroyed vehicle.

In my heart, I know his death served no purpose.
He is fodder to the raging inferno of death and hate sweeping Lebanon, leaving ash and dust in its wake.

But when his toddler kids grow up, and ask me what happened in 2006, I will say he died a hero.

Would they understand the truth? Would they forgive us if they did?

شرف تضحية وفاء

BBC Interview

2006-08-07T00:08:00.000+03:00

I was interviewed on BBC Five Live's pods and blogs show.

Have a listen.

(RealPlayer required)

Bi Beyrut

2006-08-06T23:54:00.000+03:00

A very touching post written by fellow blogger Eve, read out by fellow blogger Jooj.

Have a fellow listen.

powered by ODEO

NB. It's in arabic. And I hate pink.

This is Lebanon - part 2

2006-08-03T01:13:00.000+03:00

The famous Beirut theater, Masrah Al Madina, is producing a show called "Laughter under fire" (my translation) that is a comedy based on improvisation and audience participation.

It will be held on Thursday and Friday 6th and 7th of this month. 7.30 pm. Free Entrance.

Seems I'm not the only one trying to smile through this.

Candles in Lebanon

2006-08-03T00:35:00.000+03:00

Candles are being lit all over Lebanon these evenings.
Not to complement romantic dinners, or fill rooms with heady scents.

To stave off the dark,

to garner hope,

and mourn the dead.

Everything is different in war, even candles.

To Speak Faerlie

2006-08-02T23:10:00.000+03:00

In a post a few days ago, I suggested that you read an excellent article written by an American living in Lebanon that refused to evacuate despite the violence.

Now meet the author, Faerlie Wilson.

Sitting in Starbucks waiting for her to show up (she loves to walk everywhere, admittedly not Beiruti-like), I expected to have a cup of coffee with a wide-eyed tree-hugging bundle of excitement that in some misguided effort to express her love for the Beirut she barely knew had bitten off more than she could chew. Sure her words were really touching, but would she still feel the same way when the war caught up with her? When the reality of what she signed on for made her doubt the wisdom of an impulsive decision?

I was very mistaken.

She is certainly a stubbornly optimistic person, but not naive in the least. She definitely decided to stay because she felt compelled to, but it was a decision she made with reason and forethought, not on impulse. Listening to her speak of Lebanon, the conflict, her concerns and her anguish at what was happening, you would never for a moment think she were anything but Lebanese, born and raised. When she says "we", she means us Lebanese. She didn't end up here by chance. Everything about her stay here is deliberate and intentional. Once you realize that, it makes perfect sense that she would stay.

At several points in the conversation, I would feel as if I were the foreign inquisitor feeling for the pulse of a local Lebanese. It is then that I would suspect she may even love this place more than I do. She asked why all the Lebanese flags paraded so proudly in the past year are conspicuously absent. I had no answer. I felt ashamed.

You just know she will be there with a flag in hand when this violence is finally over.

Smart, ambitious and passionate, Faerlie is disarmingly charming, with a genuine love for this country and its people.

She is however gravely mistaken in her article when she says: "I'm not crazy, and I harbor no death wish."
Faerlie, you're just as crazy as the rest of us.

Qana Carnage

2006-08-02T18:36:00.000+03:00

Lebanon awoke Sunday to another massacre in Qana.
56 dead, mostly women and children.
The same village had been hit in 1996, killing 100 civilians sheltering in a UN base.

The grizzly scenes of bodies being pulled out of the rubble was played again and again on almost every news channel worldwide.
The world was outraged.
Calls for an immediate ceasefire echoed around the globe.

Yes, now we deserve a ceasefire, don't we?
You see, the 650 civilians killed since July 12th were killed over the span of 3 weeks, in different attacks. That's not an outrage.

But 56 killed all at once?!
That is terrible.
Here you go Lebanon, you've 'earned' your calls for a ceasefire now.

What's that? Israel needs another 2 weeks to wrap it up?
Ah well, ermmm, okay. But just 2 weeks.

And for the love of God don't kill them all at once this time.
It looks bad.

Update: I didn't get to post this yesterday due to Internet access. In this time, the Israeli media has made several claims to justify this massacre from claiming this was a building where rockets were being fired into Israel to the suggestion that Hezbollah may have staged the whole thing.

I strongly dismiss both of these 'justifications'. There was no photographic evidence presented by the IDF showing rockets being fired from this building. And the town was being continuously shelled 80 times that night by Israeli artillery fire making it impossible for anyone to stage anything.

Did the Israeli gunner know that there were 56 civilians in that building and aimed for it intentionally? Doubtful.
Does the IDF find it much easier to practice a 'scorched earth' policy than to avoid hitting civilians? There are 650 souls that would testify that this is very often the case.

"Death solves all problems - no man, no problem." - Joseph Stalin

Godot

2006-07-29T02:06:00.000+03:00

It's been a while since I'd enjoyed a Black Label, long glass, full ice over a crowded bar top while unfamiliar jazzy music accompanied the hubbub of beautiful people.

17 days of bombing and death.

I hate counting the days.
Partly because it somehow brings acceptance, as if I expect more days to come.
And secondly because the counter on the right has been running for 530 days and we still didn't put the murderers in jail.

I'd passed through the once bustling street of Gemmayzeh a few days ago and found that most of the pubs were still open. So I found myself tonight at Godot, a cozy pub with a name supposed to invoke the famous tale of waiting. Yes, the irony.

The bartenders were decorated with "No War" stickers and handed them out to the patrons. A group of foreign expats walked in halfway through the evening. This would have been normal 2 weeks ago, but now everyone turned around and stared. TV crew? Relief workers? 10 minutes later they were already in conversation with a group of Lebanese singles, and you hardly noticed they were there anymore.

My friend and I debated love, destiny and astrology signs. Anything would do other than what was currently happening. I was tired of saying the same things over and over again, and she didn't really care for politics anyway.

How long did that bubble last? Not long.
On the street, an army checkpoint. Good job boys, this is where the action is.

I got home, the power was out and the street was dark. Ah yes, the war.
Half an hour later the power came back and the candles were extinguished.

Turned on the TV. Every single news channel was covering Lebanon. How flattering.

Jordanian and Dubai TV had telethons to raise money to aid the Lebanese civilians. One man was reading out a poem about Lebanon by Nizar Kabbani that my father would always recite to me.

I'm not sure if it was that poem, everything I mentioned above, or the 17 days of violence that finally made my tears run.

I cried. But then quickly checked myself. I still had a home, loved ones and a future. Many Lebanese sleep tonight without any of these.

"The tears of the world are a constant quantity. For each one who begins to weep somewhere else another stops. The same is true of the laugh. Let us not then speak ill of our generation, it is not any unhappier than its predecessors. Let us not speak well of it either. Let us not speak of it at all." - Waiting for Godot, Samuel Beckett

Cartoon Collection

2006-07-29T02:00:00.000+03:00

Here are a few cartoons I've clipped from the media over the past few days...

Swearing to Success

2006-07-29T01:03:00.000+03:00

Below is a link to a Flash animation done by a master many many times my superior.
It is not only hillarious, it is very true.

Enjoy!

Swearing to Success by MarkFiore.com

How disgusting!

2006-07-27T00:17:00.000+03:00

I just watched a Lebanese TV show that hosted around 16 youths from different parts of the Lebanese spectrum, and I am disgusted by most of the defiant, accusatory hogwash that was spewing from the pro-Hezbollah/ pro-Syria/pro-Iran camp. They are not in the slightest sense apologetic or willing to understand my views or the views whom I consider were representing me on the panel.

Screw you! I seriously cannot care less now what your fate will be so far as it doesn't affect me. And seeing as how that is impossible I am truly sick to my stomach right now.

I don't want anyone telling me what Israel/Hezbollah/Lebanon/Arabs should do anymore.
Stuff your political analyses, screw your agendas and damn your experts.

I'm gonna hunker down, try to keep alive, and see where this time warp ends.

Amnesty Petition

2006-07-26T22:19:00.000+03:00

All Israeli (and non-Israeli) readers.

Some of you have read my blog and vented your hate for my country, my people and mocked the dead. I have let you speak because I was raised to believe in freedom of speech, not because I agree with you or because I am unable to delete what you've said.

As for the majority of the readers, you have expressed great solidarity with my country and its innocent victims. I now ask you to sign this electronic petition set up by Amnesty International addressed to Ehud Olmert, the Israeli Prime Minister. This is how you can make a difference.

Excerpt:

"I urge you to take urgent steps to put an immediate end to deliberate attacks by Israeli forces against civilian and civilian property and infrastructure in Lebanon. These attacks constitute collective punishment. I call on you to end the use of excessive and disproportionate force, and to ensure that Israeli forces respect the principle of proportionality when targeting any military objective or civilian objective that may be used for military purposes."

I heart Beirut

2006-07-26T21:56:00.000+03:00

Peace protest in Prague

This is Lebanon

2006-07-26T02:16:00.000+03:00

(click to enlarge)
This is a billboard being seen all over Beirut these past few days. How they managed to get it printed and posted in all of this fighting I have no idea.

It's an ad for a local bank, and it says: "No matter how cloudy the sky gets, Lebanon's sun shall return".

This is our defiant spirit. This is our will to overcome.

This is what makes us Lebanese. This is Lebanon.

Cycle of Violence

2006-07-26T02:00:00.000+03:00

To the Israeli warmongers:

Kid fleeing the South with family.
Kid and family car hit by a rocket.
Kid barely survives.
Kid's brother gives him a toy gun.
Kid promises to avenge his attackers.
This kid will fight your kids.

STOP VIOLENCE NOW!

2 excellent articles

2006-07-26T01:37:00.000+03:00

1) And Then They Paid Dearly. By Tom McCarthy

"Did the Shaito family have reason, when those leaflets came fluttering onto their rooftop and into their hands, to expect better treatment out on the naked roads from the Israeli helicopters than had been shown the 15 children and 7 adults who were killed in the so-called “Marwahine massacre” of July 15, when the victims’ open truck was attacked just after having been turned away from a South Lebanon UN encampment?"

2) Why I'm not evacuating Beirut. By Faerlie Wilson

"So although I'm not Lebanese by blood, I have become Beiruti. There are plenty of us who fit that description, foreigners who fell in love with the place and its people. One friend, an American college student interning for the summer with a member of the Lebanese parliament, called in tears en route to the northern border to tell me her parents had forced her to leave."

Call for Hezbollah

2006-07-26T01:17:00.000+03:00

I call hezbollah to end the rocket launching into Israel as of this minute.

If these rockets were targeted at the Israeli army, very well. That would be a legitimate defence right now.

But what use is it to launch these rockets haphazardly at the civilian populations of Northern Israel? Is it to scare them into stopping the war? Do you know that Haifa is one of the most pro-peace cities in Israel? These rockets land blindly. Those that don't kill innocent civilians land in empty fields or kill a cow.

Can't you see that this only makes the IDF's argument stronger?
How can we cheer for innocent Israeli deaths and then ask the world to mourn ours?

I'm not saying we should be passive. Fight the IDF to the death.
But don't do what you know is wrong just because it is being done to you.

Israeli peace protestors today in Haifa

Germaphobe Street Sweeper

2006-07-26T00:40:00.000+03:00

On a lighter note, a personal story that you may find amusing.

A friend of mine, bless her, is obsessed with hygiene. The disinfectant bottle by the bedside, the disinfectant gel in her purse, etc. I would always give her a hard time over this, trying to see how far the rabbit hole goes. I would come up with freakishly unlikely situations involving muck, dirt and bugs and gauge her reaction (and blood pressure). I believe the last one I conjured up was: "What if you were caught in a war and there was no soap or running water?" to which she cringed then falsely pretended it would be tolerable.

Well well, guess what. War.

There is still running water (at the time I write this) in Beirut. But with the exodus of all laborers due to the violence, the private company contracted to sweep the streets and dispose of Beirut's trash has understandably not been doing a great job of keeping the place clean. So, in order to mantain the company reputation and as a positive publicity stunt, the CEO donned the green overalls, grabbed a broom, and hit the streets to sweep the trash. With him, a group of the company's employees stuck in offices with no work to do.

Guess who joined in? She claims she did it willingly, but knowing her visceral loathing to anything dirty, I think she was 'persuaded'.

Ain't life grand?

Note: Dear Lebanese, if each one of us would sweep his doorstep then my friend wouldn't need to do this. If not for your country, do it for the phobicaly-challenged.

The Italian Job

2006-07-23T19:54:00.000+03:00

Italy, the largest trade partner for Lebanon and a country with historical ties to Lebanon that span back to the Roman Empire, is making great gestures of support in this conflict.

Rome will be the venue for an international conference to discuss aid to Lebanon.
Italian ships full of humanitarian supplies are also on the way.
The Italian foreign minister is pressuring Syria to get a dialogue going.
Italians marched in peace demonstrations in Rome
Pope Benedict led a international day of prayer on Sunday for peace in 'destroyed' Lebanon (hey, I'm agnostic but it's the thought that counts).

And yet, a friend of mine alerted me the other day to an alarming finding that can be described at best as an eerie coincidence and at worst an outright conspiracy.

Israel has invaded Lebanon twice, once in the summer of 1982 and now in 2006.

Guess who won the World Cup both times?

Quad Erat Demonstrandum.

How many times must the cannonballs fly?

2006-07-23T19:35:00.000+03:00

This was the July 21st front page of The Independent.

(Hat tip: Kottke)

Notable posts

2006-07-23T19:23:00.000+03:00

To get an answer to every cliche being thrown around, read Maya's excellent post.

To get another perspective from a Lebanese abroad, read overandout's heart-felt post.

Internet access

2006-07-22T18:45:00.000+03:00

I'm sorry for being late in posting, but the Internet connection isn't what it used to be. Thanks for my fellow blogger Jamal for helping me stay in touch!

Below are all the posts I meant to publish these few days...

Faces of Lebanon

2006-07-22T18:16:00.000+03:00

I appreciate all the kind comments and emails of support I'm receiving from the readers of this blog, expressing their solidarity and sympathy with the plight of the Lebanese people.

For those of you who have never been to Lebanon before, and only know the stories and images of death and destruction, I have created this little presentation.

Lebanon and the Lebanese seek peace and celebrate life. But Lebanon is also a country that has withstood and defied degrees of violence and turmoil that would have unravelled a lesser nation.

There are 2 faces to my country, and I am proud of both. But I insist that it never looks more beautiful as when it is lit by the radiant light of peace.

Let us end this violence, NOW.

Explain THAT! - part 2

2006-07-22T18:10:00.000+03:00

Today Israeli jets destroyed TV relay stations and cellphone communication towers on several Lebanese mountain tops.

One civilian who was working in those stations has so far been killed. Again, these attacks came without warning.

This is of course to weaken Hezbollah. Not that Hezbollah has it's own communication system set up, probably with $20 radio handsets. Not that Lebanese civilians use the TV stations to keep informed on what is happening or cellphones to keep in touch with fragmented family members.

An IDF spokesperson was asked on the BBC today why these stations were targeted.

His answer? And I quote: "The Hezbollah uses the TV to broadcast propaganda against Israel and the cellphones to send messages against Israel. Besides, today is the sabbath! We got hit with 50 rockets!"

How can one argue with that logic...

But I haven't seen the cedars yet

2006-07-22T18:07:00.000+03:00

Below is an email conversation I have had with a Lebanese reader of my blog who left Lebanon 30 years ago.

Having lived away from Lebanon myself for the early part of my life, I totally relate to the feelings she expresses.

I think her words can be an inspiration to us all. I post our conversation here:

hi ramzi:

I have been in the united states for 30 years. every year i think about going to visit Lebanon. but always something happens. this year my 18 year old daughter who was born in the USA graduated from high school and I had promised her 3 years ago that I will take her to Lebanon for a visit. but circumstances were that she had to go with my 20 year old son alone.

and now she cries that she does not want to leave even though she is scheduled to evacuate tomorrow on 7-20-2006. she keeps telling me but mom I did not see the cedars yet! and that tears my heart up.

sincerely,

(the reader)

Hey (the reader),

That story made me hang my head in sadness. But also in shame. In shame because we the Lebanese have failed Lebanon and failed your daughter. I too was like your daughter, at love with a country I have seen very little of. And when I returned after the war, I was on a constant quest to see, hear, smell Lebanon. To make up for years I could never have had anyway because of the war but still felt I owed.

And now, I have lived here enough to see what I observed rebuilt slowly and day by day destroyed in a single blow. I remember every construction site, every road diversion, every ditch. I remember taking a ride on every one of those bridges when they were fist built. And the innocent children killed were not even born when I first came here.

So, what can I say to you? nothing other than to let Lebanon always be in her heart and in her imagination. Let her fall in love with a Lebanon that neither exists nor could ever exist because it is too perfect for this world. And then let her return here when things are calmer, and let her search for that Lebanon in this Lebanon. She will not find it, but she will fall in love with the next best thing.

Ramzi

P.S. Do you mind if I post this email to my blog? I'd keep out your name and address.

hi ramzi

No i don't mind if you post it and i don't mind putting my name. one recent update: Anthony and Angela stood today in line ( sort of a line if you know what I mean) at the evacuation site for 9 and half hours. after being screened they were given a paper and told to come back tomorrow. so at this moment they are on their way back to my cousin's house in achrafiye.

sincerely
(the reader)

hi again ramzi

I love the way you talk about Lebanon, ("it is too perfect for this world"). you know it reminded me of something i told my brother yesterday on the phone, I said to him: "I think Lebanon is the fountain of love for the world and where you feel Love, you feel closer to God. That is why the devil is set to destroy it at all cost. when i was still there in 1976-77 I remember feeling that way, even among the bombs and destruction." at this point my brother was silent and then he said you know that makes sense now. the lebanese people feel that Love and they are so determined never to lose hope and I never will either. Once we lose hope and faith then Lebanon will surely perish.

sincerely

(the reader)

PS: By the way my daughter felt that Love, and I am so thankful.

Excuuuuse me?!

2006-07-22T18:00:00.000+03:00

"I think it would be a mistake to ascribe moral equivalence to civilians who die as the direct result of malicious terrorist acts," he added, while defending as "self-defense" Israel's military action, which has had "the tragic and unfortunate consequence of civilian deaths". - John Bolton, USA ambassador to the UN.

Excuse me?! That was a direct quote in an AFP news story carried by Yahoo.

So why don't you elaborate then, Mr.Bolton, on that equivalence? How many innocent Lebanese are equal to one Israeli civilian? 2? 4? more? Even if the scale were a 50:1 the Lebanese have suffered more death and destruction.

Don't you realize Mr.Bolton that if you hold this view you are no better than the terrorists who justify civilian deaths as being morally acceptable collateral losses in the struggle for the greater cause? Soldiers and enemy combatants (including Hezbollah militiamen) have voluntarily forgone their personal safety to serve a higher political purpose. Civilians by definition have not. All civilians. This is the same 'rationale' by which the carpet bombings of London in World War II were justified.

Silly me, I was under the impression that it was a self-evident truth that all men are created equal.

It seems that innocent don't die equally.

Explain THAT!

2006-07-19T01:59:00.000+03:00

The government of the UAE, having seen the images of Lebanese ambulances being targeted and destroyed, thought a gift of 12 new ones was a good idea.

So off they shipped them in a cargo plane all the way to Damascus - the mighty bastion of Arab resistance allegedly.

And from there across the border to the Bekaa valley - home to some of the best wine you'd ever enjoy.

And up the mountain side on the last patent artery into the stricken capital, a gorgeous view of the cultivated valley by the way.

And then... KABOOM. Air strike hit the convoy.

You see, ambulances are dangerous things.
They get in the way of murder.

Web efforts flourish

2006-07-18T00:55:00.000+03:00

In the 1990's, Israeli aggression against Lebanon would go unnoticed on the global scene.
Sure, the news networks would run the story the first few days and then it would quickly give way to figure skating.

But with the Web what it is today, the war is getting personal. Blogs, interviews, video diaries, and sites such as SaveLeb.Org, to channel aid and support.

Personal tragedy of today:

A doctor I know stayed behind in Beirut while the rest of her family fled to the safety of their village in the South because she refused to neglect her duties at the hospital where she works. Last night, a rocket attack on a civilian building killed her father, mother, brother and sister. She has lost her entire family in one 'oops' of collateral damage. Or worse.

The Lebanese people are suffering the brunt of a war they neither initiated nor wish to sustain. We need all the help we can get.

Spin the war II

2006-07-16T18:08:00.000+03:00

So to follow on from the brainstorming of yesterday, here's 2 more ideas for the marketing campaign.

Idea #2:

Brand = Johnnie Walker Whiskey
Slogan = Keep Walking
Concept = The theme of all these advertisements is to show people coping with and overcoming challenges and obstacles. We certainly have plenty of examples of that.
Cost = Nada (if you don't count the bridge itself of course).

Idea #3:

Brand = MasterCard
Slogan = Some things money can't buy, for everything else there's MasterCard.
Concept = We have lost so much in the past few days that the mind boggles. Some of these are material and can be restored, but the most dear could never be.
Cost = Way way too much.

NB: If I jest or seem to take things lightly don't think I am distancing myself from the great tragedy and the innocent blood spilt. It's just the way I cope, so let me be.

Spin the war

2006-07-15T18:00:00.000+03:00

Reconstruction is gonna cost a lot of money.
Being under house arrest has given me a lot of time to come up with financing strategies for when this is all over.

And I think our best bet lies in milking the publicity we are getting for all it's worth by spinning it into brand marketing/advertising. I'll throw these ideas at you, readers, and you let me know which you think works best.

Idea #1:

Brand = Nike
Slogan = Just Do It
Concept = Hezbolla embodies that impulsive drive to just do something without the bothersome restrictions of foresight or consensus.
Cost = Hezbollah must make a slight modification to the flag.

Beirut marches on its stomach

2006-07-15T00:24:00.000+03:00

Beirut. 10 pm.

The Security Council has just shrugged it's shoulders.
Israeli dude gave us a Jerry Maguire "help me help you" speech.
Nasrallah has just declared 'open war' (as opposed to the closed one we've been thoroughly enjoying?)
Hezbollah has just struck an Israeli warship off the coast.
The night sky will surely be lit soon.
Tracer rounds and plumes of fire.

And the Lebanese?

They are eating.

I'm not sure if this is ridiculous or admirable.
I know however that it is most definitely and uniquely, Lebanese.
You only get this cool about war when your capital was once used as a synonym for total chaos.
And that image is rapidly returning.

I hate war.
I hate it more when it's avoidable.
I hate it even more when it's not my nation's doing.

Tomorrow innocent people will die. Again.
Tomorrow more of Lebanon will go up in flames.
But tonight?

Tonight, we eat.

"An army marches on its stomach" - Napoleon Bonaparte

Are you happy now?

2006-07-13T20:29:00.000+03:00

You care not for this country nor it's citizens.
You are blind to the borders and the fate of this nation.
And you thrust me into the unknown and ask me to follow you?!

Wake up and smell the burning runways...

There was light and atomic fission
Swelling wind
Rising ash
Tide of Black
Rain
Cement seared shadow traces
Reminiscent of their last commands
Instantly one thousand flames arising
Ill scent the burning hides surrounding
A settlement debased entirely
Enola Gay had made a casual delivery
Please build a future, darling
With our bomb
Cherish and love it
For the sake of
Earth bound kingdom come - Grey Victory by 10,000 Maniacs

Horny Grail

2006-07-10T15:11:00.000+03:00

Having not blogged for weeks, I thought that the visitors to this blog must have dwindled to a trickle for sure. Why would anyone visit a blog that is in coma?

So I checked my stat service and lo and behold, the visitors held constant at around 30 or 40 hits a day. A little digging and I found out that almost 90% of the visits were directed to my blog by search engines to one post in particular.

And what was the search term in almost every case?

"sex in lebanon"
"beirut prostitutes"
"lebanon brothels sex"

you get the idea...

What does this all mean?

Sex sells of course. And to all those on a quest to locate the Lebanese sex trade, my post is the horny grail.

Purged

2006-07-05T18:31:00.000+03:00

Phew... I needed that!

Almost a month has gone by since my last post and it felt great!

Not that this blog had been getting me down, but the disconnect of the past 4 weeks was just what the doctor ordered. This doctor.

I am still in Lebanon, waiting for my Visa papers to come through. I have cancelled/rebooked my flight several times already. And in the meantime, I've gotten to:

1) Say goodbye to the same people over and over again.
2) Enjoy an empty beach at 9am.
3) See Germany accomplish what I never thought it could in the WC.
4) Flirt like crazy.
5) Polish up on my billiards skills and learn 3 new dart games.
6) Been taught how to perform a wicked self-levitation magic trick.
7) Finish a book I've been intending to read for 3 years.
8) And this is the sweetest, see fans of Brazil hang their head low in shame.

And now the purge is over.
I am ready.
Set.

GO!

Done!

2006-06-09T17:23:00.000+03:00

Written.
Presented.
Defended.
Done!

3 down, 2 more and i'll call it quits.

Gone Fishing

2006-06-01T14:38:00.000+03:00

Won't be posting till I'm done with my thesis, hopefully in the few coming days.

Hope I catch a big one...

Drop and roll

2006-05-30T03:23:00.000+03:00

"Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned
Nor hell a fury like a woman scorned"

Amen.

Be afraid

2006-05-26T18:02:00.000+03:00

You Are 38% Evil

A bit of evil lurks in your heart, but you hide it well.
In some ways, you are the most dangerous kind of evil.

How Evil Are You?

... and I'm happy with this!
That ought to be worth a few more percentage points at least.

Prophetic Pic?

2006-05-25T19:37:00.000+03:00

Our dear beloved Prez took a tour yesterday of the Khiam detention camp in South Lebanon.
During the occupation, this prison witnessed horrific scenes of torture of Lebanese resistance fighters and citizens alike, men and women.

The poignant anniversary of liberation aside, this was a opportune photo-op for the ugly duckling nobody loves. Is it just me or do the images of him in a jail cell look prophetic?

Speaker Fidelity

2006-05-23T13:46:00.000+03:00

Fidelity is a term often used in describing audio systems, and it refers to how accurately and faithfully the sound set recreates the original recording.

When the speaker in question happens to be of a parliamentary variety, I think the term can also apply with respect to how faithfully the person in office carries forward the 'voices' within the house he represents.

The recent hilarity of the Syrian decision to involve the Interpol in Jumblat's arrest necessitated a forceful rebuke from the parliament in defense of one of it's members. And today's parliamentary session started out to be just that, with most members of the March 14th block condemning the move and suggesting robust practical steps to be taken. MP George Adwan was distinctly well-spoken.

So what did our speaker do?

Well first, he objected to the discussion, stating that this was not the scheduled issue for the session. After astutely sensing that the majority was not going to let the issue simply slide, he begrudgingly let the discussion continue. Well, excuse me Istez Nabih, but if the US administration had issued an arrest warrant for say a Hizbullah MP for a terrorism-related allegation, I doubt that the session would have been spared the indignant cries of "western interference, national sovereignty, and praise for the resistance".

Obviously uncomfortable with the whole atmosphere, he jumped at the first hint of questioning from MP Bahij Tabbara about the results of his visit to ~~Bozo the Clown~~ Bashar Al Assad and in a tantrum more befitting a 4-yr old, stomped out of the session quickly followed in file by the Hizbullah MP's.

I've never heard a speaker sound this bad...

note: Aoun's parliamentary block had the mute button firmly pressed.

In my dictionary... II

2006-05-22T18:48:00.000+03:00

Main Entry: thesis
Function: noun
Definition: elaborate mechanism to expand a sentence into 50 pages

In my dictionary... part I

2006-05-15T16:04:00.000+03:00

I hope to eventually publish my own definition for every term in the Webster.

Starting with...

Main Entry: poetic justice
Function: noun
Definition: summer-loving early-rising morning-people herded into a spacecraft and parked next to a solar flare.

Keeping busy

2006-05-12T00:06:00.000+03:00

I find it helps when trying to come to terms with loss to distract myself as much as possible.

Fortunately, I have many interests to pursue.
Sadly, I find very little to distract myself with.

For example...

Politics: Parties who adore protests declare protesting is futile when trying to rid the country of a joke president, but totally justified for toppling an 8-month old government over something that doesn't exist.

Theatre: Avoiding politics leads me nowhere. I didn't even get the chance to find out if Meryl Streep "stafalit" or not.

Concerts: Ricky Martin is for adolescent girls. 50 Cent is for, well... not me anyway.

Nature: Apparently the early roasters are hitting the sands already, but I'm in no rush for summer.

So that leaves with... Sports.

The world cup is just around the corner. And as a loyal fan of Germany I'm finding it hard to sleep soundly. Even the team captain is saying they may be bumped off early.

What am I to do?! Somebody distract me quick.

Pantomime

2006-05-08T20:21:00.000+03:00

My dad never saw any of the animations I created on this blog.

Maybe because I thought that the whole concept of what a blog is would be too strange to explain, or maybe because I wanted something to keep for myself.

But I know that with his sarcastic sense of humor, he would have loved to see some of them.

That can't be helped any longer.

Here is an animation I was working on up till the very day he passed away.
I couldn't even make myself look at it let alone complete it before.

But I'm looking for closure in everything, and here, in this trivial little animation, I'm getting some.

It is a little larger than all the previous ones (2.3 MB) so, you've been forewarned.

I never thought the "National Dialogue" would get to any constructive result. Often, there are issues that you can come to a compromise over. What they are 'discussing' on that table is not one of them. You cannot be a little pregnant.

We miss you

2006-05-05T14:52:00.000+03:00

Dad,

It's been a week since you've left.
I had to count the days and was surprised to find they were seven.
"Yesterday" is what I keep answering when I am asked.

These hours and days without your presence are a strange place.
I have not come to accept that you are gone. Only that you are not here.
It's a fine line, I know, but it makes a world of difference to me.

I always knew you were loved and would be missed.
But I never imagined you had touched so many people's lives.
So many Dad!

You always had little tolerance for crowds, so perhaps it is best that you were not there.
You wouldn't have liked them sitting on your favorite recliner by the window.
And you would have shrugged off the fact that they broke the gramophone's brass horn but I know you would have been upset.
You loved that thing! I'll fix it.

I want to ask a few things of you.
First, I want you to rest assured that Mom and I will be fine. There is more love and support around us than I honestly think we deserve.
Second, know that that 'thing' you did on the first night didn't scare me or Mom at all. I knew it was you and I loved it.
Third, you deserve to be free of the pain you have endured for so long. Enjoy the peace, there is nothing you should regret or feel sorry for.

I'll be leaving in a few weeks. And I'll have much more news to tell you then.

We miss you,
Ramzi.

P.S. Your robe still hangs by the door. Your pill box still has the medicines in it. We're holding on to those. We won't change a thing.

Thank you

2006-05-03T22:29:00.000+03:00

I hate to sound corny or cliche but I was profoundly touched by all your warm sentiments and condolences.

May all your loved ones remain beside you, in happiness and good health.

My Father

2006-04-28T15:24:00.000+03:00

Last night at 9:35pm, my father finally succumbed to his illness and passed away.

Those of you who knew him well will appreciate the great loss we are enduring.

Those of you who didn't get a chance to know him, allow me to describe him a little for you:
Everyone who met my father fell in love with him in 2 minutes.
His smile was always present and beaming, his eyes warm and disarming.
He had charisma and charm, without knowing it.
There was no place in his heart for hate or malice.
He would always call you by your nickname.
His message to me was always "Think Positive".

My father worked all his life to provide for me and my mother. He always delayed his own pleasures and ignored his own wishes to serve ours. And when the time came for him to pursue his own happiness, he was taken away by a slow, painful illness. I guess what I'm trying to tell all of you is that life is not to be taken for granted. Don't assume just because you have plans to be happy "later on" that you will have it. Of course work for the future. But don't let the precious moments of life pass you by because you were too busy or had other plans. If you find there is something you want, something you need, something you feel in your heart is right, go for it. Take it. Before you and all your life is taken.

May all your loved ones remain safe and by your side...

My Father, 1945-2006

Dark, Tunnel, Light

2006-04-25T23:13:00.000+03:00

The past week has been a tempest of emotion.

I came within a hair's breadth of losing my father.

I had three years to come to terms with this eventual fate, and every clinical sign suggested that the time had come.

Such instances are difficult times for an agnostic. I had no divine faith to leash my anger, and no discernible object to turn it upon.

Yet, he made it. With determination, care and love, he saw himself through it.

But I am left exhausted, rage has left me weary.

My only solace is that I will yet again have a chance to hold his hand, tell him I'm proud of him, and see him smile back at me and say:" That was nothing".

Missing the point

2006-04-18T14:18:00.000+03:00

Overheard at my local gym:

Woman: I'm trying to lift the weight on this machine but it's too difficult.
Trainer: Well, try a lighter weight then.
Woman: Ok, but what can I do to get better at it?
Trainer: What do you mean?
Woman: How do I train this muscle so that I can lift this weight?
Trainer: ...

I wonder what she thought the point of these machines was in the first place.

Square one

2006-04-18T14:15:00.000+03:00

So I applied a three-column layout to this blog thinking it would make it look neater.

It only looked proper with screens set to 1024x768 resolutions and I suppose some people are still surfing with 800x600 which makes the blog page look jumbled.

So back to square one...

Hand me that wrench!

2006-04-09T14:37:00.000+03:00

I have always found the job description of a physician and an auto-mechanic strikingly similar. And a pediatrician even more so. I'm not implying that human life and a vehicle are equally valuable, just that the work environment of a mechanic is surprisingly familiar to mine.

How?

Well, to name a few things:

Your 'patient' often arrives in a big vehicle with flashing lights
You need a detailed history of the symptoms and past troubles
You have a 'patient' that can't speak or describe anything
Your 'patient' is likely to leak smelly filthy substances which you diligently collect and analyze
Overheating is always a bad sign
Yearly check-ups are crucial to avoid problems
In the waiting room sit the anxious worrying 'parents' with many questions
Insurance companies dictate what you can and cannot do
The bill is usually much more than they expect, but they pay anyway

Still, when I saw this in another visit to a Beirut car repair shop, I couldn't help but feel this parallel is getting a little scary:

Crash: the Beirut version

2006-04-05T15:23:00.000+03:00

There probably are more infuriating things than waking up to find some dunce has made a large ding in your parked car because she never learnt what those mirrors were for, but I can't think of any at the moment.

In about 15 minutes you go through the classic phases: denial, bargaining, anger, sadness, acceptance. Arriving at that, you try and find where in the maze of Beirut's inner side-streets is the bodyshop where the dunce's insurance company agreed to repair the damages.

That happened to me last week, and I eventually managed to find the place, hand them the car keys and take a cab back home in rush hour traffic. It was ready the next day (surprisingly) and patiently waiting for me in it's freshly-painted glory to come pick it up. Not wishing to go through the stop-go-stop-stop-go ordeal of Beirut taxis, I traced the route out in my head and decided to walk to the shop. It wasn't really walking-distance in any sense of the word, but the weather was great and I needed the exercise.

This is the route I took:

Having lived in this city for the past 10 years, I've been witness to most if not all of it's transformations. But still, there are a lot of things you miss if you just drive the streets. Handy cellphone camera in hand, I snapped some:

Never saw the poster before, seems innocuous on paper though

To commemorate Beirut's resistance to Israeli Occupation, yet almost invisible
The sidewalk gets you this far, then you're on your own

The building is gone, but the stairway remains

I love this place...

Moon shadow

2006-03-31T15:23:00.000+03:00

An improvised pinhole camera made of post-it notes cast this shadow on the screen.

And as I marvelled at my contraption, nature mocked me with a million crescents dancing on the ground, showing between the leaves of trees.

"Did it take long to find me?
I asked the faithful light.
Did it take long to find me
and are you gonna stay the night?

I'm bein' followed by a moon shadow
moon shadow
moon shadow"

- Cat Stevens, Moonshadow

None but love

2006-03-23T02:24:00.000+02:00

Life!!!

Yes you!

I have learnt long ago not to trust you, bitch!

But to hold the one I love and lose her on the same night is beyond cruel.
It's evil. Very evil.

There will always be a place for you in my heart. If the sea should prove to be stormy in my soul you will find safe harbor. I have none for you but love.

Do you remember?

2006-03-22T14:57:00.000+02:00

In a flash of nostalgia, I went through my memory trying to recall how these everyday things used to be:

Tubes of toothpaste had none of this plastic/foil/depleted-uranium amalgam. The tube was purely metallic, with sharp corners that can take your eye out. You roll that tube off the end, and it stays rolled-up.

Kit-kat chocolate used to come wrapped in foil, then wrapped again in white translucent paper, on top of which came another red wrapper going around the bar but not covering it's full length. A little of the white-wrapped bar would stick out of either end. There was a process to getting to the chocolate, and you were rewarded for your determination with the sweet stuff. Much like lobster.

Today's chewing gum is sugar-free, protects your teeth, and makes your breath smell like a hospital ward. Gone are the old sugar-highs of childhood. Ahh... Wrigley's.

Another survey

2006-03-22T14:30:00.000+02:00

This is a well made survey about current Lebanese attitudes concerning politics, elections and the future of the confessional system. Give it a whirl...

Some Spin

2006-03-21T21:23:00.000+02:00

"Don't call her today, that's too soon. Keep it till tomorrow..."

I agreed.
But why? What is tomorrow anyway? It's the passage of light then day. A revolution of the planet upon its axis. And somehow, when one such revolution has taken place, many things that would have seem rushed are now justified. And yet others become too distant.

A year. The planet has taken a meander around the sun and is once again in the same position it was before. Bloody brilliant. Suddenly there are birthdays, anniversaries, and festivals relived. How dare you let the Earth return to the same position it was on the day I was born and not wish me a happy new revolution?! And a revolution since the revolution? Grab a flag and take to the streets...

Matchmaker!

2006-03-13T19:51:00.000+02:00

Google for Mars

2006-03-13T13:18:00.000+02:00

If you've always wanted to see for yourself where on Mars the Coprates Chasma dune was - and who among us hasn't - you can now do so with Google.

Just browse over to this link and you can use the same interface of Google Maps, only for Mars.

You can see where all the spacecraft landed, check out the craters and find how long it takes you to get from the Tholus Summit to Arcuate Fractures in rush-hour traffic.

Now, if we can only get Google to map Chebaa farms....

Speak in code

2006-03-11T20:07:00.000+02:00

Read the DaVinci Code by Dan Brown?

You'll love this then...

A website has been put up by the "Catholic Communication Campaign, an activity of the United States Conference of Catholic Bishops" to not only refute the ideas behind the book but to arm believers with arguments and counterpoints should they ever find themselves debating the issue.

The site is well-made and flashy, so serves its propaganda role well. Whether or not you care about this issue at all, a visit is still interesting. Like this gem for example:

"We need to challenge the evidence used in The Da Vinci Code and not let up. These works aren't serious history."

Exactly! It's just a story goddamn it! (oops, name in vain again)

Still, this is intelligent resistance to dangerous ideas as compared to our local church's ban on the book.

Repent heathens! Bolts of lightening! Cursed be thine blasphemy!

Sunday Morning

2006-03-11T19:37:00.000+02:00

Been a week since my last post.
Can't believe these last few days flew by so quickly!

The week started off with news that the medication my father needs for his treatments is unavailable in Lebanon. Cue in harried phone calls to the hospital, pharmacies, the drug's local agent, the insurance company and the Ministry of Health and... turns out the best solution is the old and tried method of "would you carry some of this with you in your suitcase for a friend?"

That bit off a big chunk of the week.

Ahhh.. looking forward for tomorrow's lazy morning in bed.

Speaking of which...

Powered by Castpost

Why it doesn't work out?

2006-03-05T19:52:00.000+02:00

I think about this question after every relationship that goes down the drain.
And for each experience the answer would be different and ambiguous, so much so that I was resolute for a while that no 2 relationships are the same and thus nothing can be learned. I can avoid the previous mistakes but will most likely fall into new ones later. So all I could do was unwrap each candy bar I came across until Charlie finds the "golden ticket" or get exhausted and settle down with whatever I had.

But I realize now that I've been looking in all the wrong places. Finding what makes relationships fall apart is difficult, but finding what it takes to keep it alive is more straightforward!

I think I can narrow it down to 3 things, in no particular order:

1) Love. You have to love the person you are with. No, not duh. Love is a very grey term. Hate is a very clear and simple emotion. If I tell you I hate something, whether it's Indian food, humid weather or human vanity, you instantly understand how I feel. I don't like it. Simple. But love? We use that term so loosely these days it has no value anymore. Love can span a spectrum from casual preference to obsession. It can mask affection, admiration, longing, lust. You can love a friend, a brother, a car, a song, a pet, a partner, a country - each in a different way and with a different intensity. Hate is what you find objectionable. Love is so much more. So it's not enough to simply have love. It has to be the kind of selfless, "you-complete-me" kind of love.

2) Compatibility. Love does not cover this. You can be in love with someone you have very little in common with. You don't have to be identical but you must share something fundamental on the important levels. Namely morals, life pleasures and future outlook.

3) Circumstance. Which includes everything from your first introduction to where you're situated in your respective lives. Long-distance relationships fall under poor circumstance.

If you have these 3 things going for you, great. Your relationship will most likely survive most hiccups and you'll live happily ever after till death do you part yada yada yada.

But what if you don't? Well it depends on the couple of course but I think that if you're only missing one of these 3 elements then the relationship can probably be salvaged given your commitment to make it work. Circumstance is usually the easiest to adjust. Example: You love her and you get along great but she's a world away, you can try and move closer. But if you've only got one of these things going for you... you are fighting an uphill battle that will sap your will and give you nil. Part ways amicably and move on. Drop that life raft and abandon ship. You never know who you may meet on a life raft and life-or-death situations create instant bonding. But that's another discussion.

Phew. Take that Dr. Phill.

My DNA

2006-02-28T16:28:00.000+02:00

Reading Ramz's Personal DNA results, I was tempted to try it out.
Turns out I'm an attentive analyst, which can be a good match for my career I guess. But then I always felt I made the wrong career choice to start with...

The results:

personalDNA

Attentive Analyst

My Personal Dna Report

Confidence	LowHigh	88
Openness	LowHigh	74
Extroversion	LowHigh	60
Empathy	LowHigh	76
Trust in others	LowHigh	4
Agency	LowHigh	88
Masculinity	LowHigh	86
Femininity	LowHigh	74
Spontaneity	LowHigh	56
Attention to style	LowHigh	36
Authoritarianism	LowHigh	86
Earthy/Imaginative	ImaginativeEarthy	74
Aesthetic/Functional	FunctionalAesthetic	6

Pin the tail

2006-02-24T20:42:00.000+02:00

It's your patriotic duty to pin that tail...

Website Precedent

2006-02-21T17:36:00.000+02:00

In an original move, one of the current presidential candidates Chibli Mallat has put up a rich website for the Lebanese to browse through.

This is a fresh move for a Lebanese presidential nominee (actually having a clear message and getting it out to the people) which I suppose is necessary giving that he is a minor player on the political scene and resides in London.

Be sure to check out his program, Operation Rescue Lebanese Democracy and the mechanism he suggests for impeaching our beloved Lahoud.

هيك بتعمل هيك؟

2006-02-20T14:31:00.000+02:00

My latest animation...

All politicians are conducive to satire.
None is immune.

And when we do parody them in satire, the intention is not to mock them personally but rather to subtly critique their actions in a comical portrayal.

All true democracies foster this flavor of free speech and, thankfully, Lebanon has always teemed with such satire even in the darkest days of conflict.

It is a sign of true freedom to be able to accept criticism and shake it off, or better yet laugh at oneself.

But sadly, this is not always the case.
So here is my cautionary note:

I am not part of any political party.
I do not pander to any propaganda or stereotypes.

I am a Lebanese citizen & witness to current events.
I am also cynical, frustrated and yearning for freedom.

I was there in March 14th, I cherish that spirit.
I do not necessarily endorse or defend the politicians associated with that event.

I claim my right to unapologetically hold whichever view seems reasonable to me and to express it in whichever way I choose as a free citizen.

This post is not an invitation for endless political debates. All such comments will be deleted. If you are really that offended, make an animation of your own.

Just LEGO already...

2006-02-12T15:59:00.000+02:00

Throughout the Muslim world, calls have gone out to boycott Danish products, including the company that brings hours of joy to children everywhere, LEGO.

With a few puckered plastic pieces and pictorial instructions, a child indirectly learns to interpret graphical models in 3D, appreciate the principles of structural stability, and can let his creativity spark in him/her a passion for architecture and engineering.

That at least was my experience.
And so, apparently, it was for a man by the name of Andrew Carol, who used the simple LEGO bricks to create a Babbage Difference Engine. In brief, this is a mechanical machine designed in 1822 by a Charles Babbage made to compute values of polynomial functions.

Sadly, the difference between our attitude and Andrew's is all too clear.

String Theory

2006-02-11T17:56:00.000+02:00

I noticed a thread sticking out the side of my jacket this morning.

I pulled at it, wound it round my finger, and snapped it.
It only got longer.

I did that again and again.
Finally the whole string was out, unravelled into a sizeable ball in my palm.

My jacket didn't disintegrate into threads, nor did my sleeves suddenly slough off.

Conclusion: That string was totally pointless. I was carrying it around for months now for no reason.

360

2006-02-09T00:35:00.000+02:00

I had to get to downtown.
The Lebanese LBCI TV had just finished airing the first part of it's "2005 in review" program.
The credits were just rolling and I was still clutching the TV remote in one hand and searching for my car keys with the other.

I had to get to downtown.
I can't believe I had forgotten what it felt like in the days leading up to Feb 14th. I remembered what it was like after that day. We Lebanese have talked/analyzed/marched everything to death since then and the disconnect was hitting me hard. But the days before? The frustration with the Syrian insolence, the disgust with the Lebanese cronies and the puppet government, the anticipation of the upcoming elections... I relived it all tonight. Part one ends with the Hariri assassination. For the past year it has always seemed like the beginning. The way some politicians speak today I am shocked to remember it was only 360 days ago. Have we really no respect left for that man and his gruesome death other than the occasional token nod and "rest in peace" murmur before we assault everything he stood for as corrupt, disingenuous and the root of all evil?

I had to get to downtown.
I wanted to walk up to the grave and have a look. Pay my respects. Remember how it was that he went from the promise of the opposition to 6 feet underground. Needless to say, on a stormy night like tonight I had no company. The hail had fallen so thick it bordered on actual snow. The only people around at 11pm were the revelers standing in line to get to "Buddha Bar" and some Arab tourists caught off guard by all the rain. I strolled past them, turned the corner into martyr's square and walked up to the grave. Nobody there but sparse security. It hadn't changed month since I was last there 5 months ago. A few minutes later I was out and walking back to the parking lot. The attendant gave me a quizzical look. "Night over so soon?" he said.
I nodded.

"360 nights over so soon", I thought to myself.

Screwballs! - UPDATE

2006-02-06T10:11:00.000+02:00

Updates on last night's mess:

DANISH EMBASSY UNTOUCHED! Yes, it seems incredible but in fact the building was inspected this morning and the embassy has sustained no damage. Only Lebanese public and private property was burnt to the ground.
The majority of the protestors soon after the violence erupted and by all accounts those that remained did not number more than a 100 - 150. Well they were arrested and here is the tally: 75 SYRIANS, 35 PALESTINIANS, 25 LEBANESE.

What conclusion can we draw from this ladies and gentlemen?
Yet another lame attempt to destabilize this country by our neighbours, this time via the Danish-Cartoon issue.

And Danes think they've got problems....

Boycott Ignorance!

2006-02-05T18:33:00.000+02:00

I'm still fuming over the violent vandalism of this morning.
Politicians of every flavor have condemned this thing to death already, but it all feels so impotent now.
Sure, there are political motivations/implications for all of this and in analysis I could probably see how alterior motives may have exploited the situation. Yet it remains our fault for letting that exploit take place.

We need strong measures.
We need legal action.
And above all, we need education to counter the ignorance that feeds this fire.

I created this graphic for the blog sidebar, feel free to copy it if you wish.

Screwballs!

2006-02-05T13:08:00.000+02:00

For the first time, I am shamed to call myself Lebanese.

Screwballs burnt the Danish embassy yesterday in Damascus, and it therefore became mandatory that the same happen in Beirut! They went beyond that even with wanton destruction of private property and a church's windows. What better way to coutner that silly caricature of a terrorist prophet Mohammed than to destroy, burn and vandalize. Good job muslim-world. It's like fucking for virginity. Agnostics have no place in this part of the world.

To any Danes reading this, I apologize.
Denmark, I love you.
I will bathe in Lurpak tonight.

Blame is squarely on the shoulders of our own security forces. If I were in the army, there would be a 9mm shell lodged in the head of the torch-throwing protestor before he got anywhere near the building.

You there with the phone, your momma!

Memories LOST?!

2006-02-03T22:19:00.000+02:00

The blunder of my lifetime!

Well maybe not that extreme but I'm still feeling emotional about it.

Two nights ago, in an attempt to weed out files that have been lying around on my laptop for months, I accindentally included the "My Pictures" folder and hit the "Del" key!

No, not just the "Del" key but also the shift key, for I am a computer genius who deletes files permanently and doesn't just trash them like the illiterate masses. I only realized what was happening a few seconds later when all the file names where whirring by out of the silly yellow folder icon and into oblivion.

In disbelief I quickly opened a few windows to assess the damage. All the countless pictures I took during my trip over the past 2 months in 6 different cities??? GONE! Yes, even the ones of the silly warning signs. I must have evoked a curse of some kind.

Fear not, I thought. These files are retrievable. All I need is a quick download of some recovery software and I'll be in business. After all, they do this in the movies all the time. Right. Six different software attempts later and I had retrieved almost all EXCEPT those most precious to me, those of my trip.

My only recourse now is to pray that a friend of mine had actually asked for a copy on CD before I left (I can't remember for sure).

Please, please please please let that be the case.

Hmm: Respect or Fear?

2006-01-26T22:31:00.000+02:00

Sociology is one of the subjects I regret not reading in college. I did have the chance to take an elective in basic sociology, which I passed on in favor of psychology and philosophy. Notwithstanding, I think I can take the liberty of making a few observations from my trip to the USA without having to document my arguments. I'll title these remarks with a "Hmm:" for that was the sound I made at the time. Probably.

Lebanon can be described as lawless by visitors and residents alike. We have laws on the books, practical laws for the most part too. But as a people, we are reluctant to give them any recognition unless we feel they are in our favor OR we are forced to by moral/social pressure. Even the sight of the police does little to discourage a law breaker and signs are mostly vacant placeholders for the latest political poster or graffiti.

So you can imagine my surprise when I saw these:

This was affixed over the toilet bowl inside the lavatory (why are they only called lavatories in planes?!). I was pondering several things at once. First off, they don't mind flushing toilet paper on this airplane, and in fact all public bathrooms in the US don't provide trash bins by the toilets. But I'll leave the toilet practices for another post. What I'm talking about here is the second notice added underneath the first. External leaks and safety hazards? Really? Is such explanation of the mechanics of airplane flush systems necessary? (Nothing keeps a junkie from flushing needles more than external leaks).

Still in the lavatory, the giant smoke alarm fitted overhead had this warning sticker. This is commonly found on most airlines I've flown with and even at some hotels. But only in the US do they seem to quote "Federal Law"! And a specific fine of "$2,200"! (So basically, if I have $2,200 spare change and I'm need of a nicotine fix I can go ahead and light up! All credit cards accepted).

This was hanging inside a subway train car. Again with the monetary fine quote! (Repeated in Spanish of course).

Now this was special! We're talking prison time and it's under the law no less. The apparent message is if that old woman knitting in the corner is getting on your nerves or the train driver gives you a rough ride, subduing your violent instincts to hurt and maim would save you ten years in jail. So, for your own interests don't go hit them now. (Wait till you're off the train then do it).

Basically, the point I'm trying to get to with this post is "Compliance". What makes an average citizen abide by the law? You would hope that basic good civility encourages us to respect laws put in place for our own benefit. And if that fails, there are several punitive measures to keep us in check. You should respect the law of your own accord, and if that is a tough sell, then fear it.

The conclusion that I am left to draw by seeing all these signs (and other experiences during my visit) is this: The law is enforced in the US more by fear and intimidation than anything else.

I even felt this firsthand. The police stationed by the door inside a popular club, the patrol car parked in the dark along a road with a low speed limit, the security cameras in every drugstore. Candid reminders of the trouble you can get into.

I'm not passing judgment nor pointing at any fault in particular. In fact, I think the Lebanese have such callous disregard for the law, instilling some fear can actually be healthy. We can even keep the signs in dollars.

I suggest this one first:

Rear view mirror

2006-01-26T16:54:00.000+02:00

Apparently, it is not only 'home' that becomes romanticised with distance, but also personal relationships. Damn that rear view mirror.

I have come to forget how much certain habits of those close to me drive me insane. What makes things worse is that I seem to have lost the adaptive numbness I developed over the years. I am overreacting, like a man sitting in a dark room does when the light is suddenly switched on and he is clamoring to turn it back off, half-blind and cursing.

Bright side? I'm unarmed.

Promise & Purpose

2006-01-23T19:39:00.000+02:00

Thanks for the warm welcome, I was surprised anybody noticed my return given the fact that I have neglected this blog for so long.

But that's all about to change.

The song "Home" that I included in my animation was a song I first heard in a friend's car during a night-time drive down the snowy streets of Cleveland. The moment it was over it was obvious that a solemn mood of nostalgia and longing had set over our little group of old friends reunited away from home. The flock, as I once described them. I was the one with the most recent memories of home and the one soonest to return. Whether that fact made me feel it more acutely or less in comparison to them I'm not sure. All I know is that song was loaded on my music player that night and became the soundtrack to my entire trip. It was only natural that it be the soundtrack to my animation as well...

To those in the flock who are reading this, to all those who are away from home and longing to return, I hope you get your deliverance soon. It is an exquisite pleasure to lay your head on that one special pillow. Until then, stay true to your purpose and keep that promise of pleasure close to your heart.

Hooooome

2006-01-19T19:57:00.000+02:00

Almost there...

2006-01-06T12:16:00.000+02:00

I'm sitting at gate B11 in Richmond International Airport, waiting for my flight back to Cleveland.

I haven't posted anything in a little over 2 weeks. And I wish I can say I was just lazy, uninspired or even too happy/busy to post. For a while now I have felt that whatever I have to say will pale in comparison to everything happening back home. Politics, yes, and personal. I only write what I feel and what I have felt since my last post has been... well, unpostable.

So why back now? Time. It puts things in perspective, dulls out the sharp edges and lulls me back into the blissful routine of just 'being'. Or is it acceptance? I'm not sure which and I'm not sure if it matters.

What have I been up to? Welllll... let's see:

- X-mas spent with friends in Cleveland. Highpoint: Buying decorations, shopping for gifts, seeing old friends.
- New Year's Eve in Chicago. Highpoint: Watching the fireworks off Navy Pier with the city in the background. Actually, EVERY SINGLE THING!
- Richmond, Virginia for an interview. Highpoint: Charming place, beautiful people, great hospital.

So, I've wrapped up my interview visits and can look forward to a few days of kicking-back in Cleveland (last chance for shopping requests guys) and heading back home next week.

It feels good posting again.
I almost remember why I started to in the first place.
I guess I'm just homesick.

Why they are called Buffalo wings

2005-12-19T09:04:00.000+02:00

I am back in Cleveland now after a quick 5-day hop north to New York State.
Yup, the State.
No, I didn't get to see the city.

Why?

Well I was there to sit for 'interviews'.
I don't know why we call these visits to different hospitals and residency programs 'interviews'.
First of all, I don't know of any interview that starts at 8 am and continues for 7 hours, includes a lunch break and a one-hour tour, and when you finally do get to the Q&A part it sometimes includes discussions of which jet fighter in the U.S. air force is the 'coolest'. Honest.

So what have I accomplished in the past week? Well...

I got to experience the Greyhound Bus mode of transportation for a buttocks-numbing 12 hours in total (more on that in the next post). That only leaves ferry rides and ballooning not yet explored.
I got to stay at 2 hotels, one which had the word "inn" in its title and the other had the word "grande". Surprisingly, there was more grand in the inn than the grande (try to say that 10x quickly).
I became a master bag-packer-unpacker, suit and all.
I got to see Buffalo and Syracuse (and Buffalo was unexpectedly charming and surprisingly devoid of any big furry ruminating mammals. Well... some at the pub, but none in the wild)
I got to meet an old friend who has sadly not changed at all.
Learnt that white-out conditions literally mean that everything out is white, including the air 2 feet from your face.
Got to see my aunt and cousin from Toronto (they drove to Buffalo in 2 hours) the day before my aunt became a grandma and my cousin an aunt.
Made a new friend: an arm-amputee cab driver named "Jim".
Had chicken wings at the Anchor Bar, the original birthplace of the "Buffalo wings" (now I get it).
The interviews themselves of course.

The events back home were always on my mind.
Nothing I enjoy here is free from a sense of guilt, and a longing desire to be back home.

I will post more about all these experiences in the coming days...

Thanks Eve...

2005-12-15T23:20:00.000+02:00

Feeling my pain, Eve has posted some of the pictures she took while she walked in the funeral procession.

Thank you, Eve. It's still not the same, but I feel better.

One Man Demonstration?

2005-12-13T23:04:00.000+02:00

Although my trip has been an excellent experience so far, yesterday's assassination has me wishing I were back home right now.

I've been a part of Lebanon's tragedy and triumph since Feb 14, and despite the sad events I was partially glad that I had been there to witness it. When they speak of "the Lebanese youth who took to the street" I feel included, when I look at the pictures of March 14th I know that somewhere in that sea of red & white is a speck that is me.

All those I speak to in Lebanon now say "you're lucky you're away, stay longer if you get the chance. Things are chaotic all over again." But what they don't understand is that the anger, worry and anguish I feel towards what is happening doesn't get diluted by distance. At least back home I would have the chance to grab a flag, stand in the crowd and give voice to my anger. What can I do to vent my anger and sadness here in Buffalo? Nothing. I can't talk to anyone about this, nobody knows what I am on about. I want to join a crowd, but the queue at Starbuck's doesn't feel the same.

I'm not trying to stir anyone's sympathy, but I just want my body to be where my soul is...

On my shelf in Beirut tonight hangs a lonely flag and a red & white scarf, probably wondering why they aren't in martyr's square.

! اقسم

2005-12-12T22:58:00.000+02:00

نقسم بالله العظيم

مسلمين ومسيحيين

أن نبقى موحدين

إلى أبد الآبدين

دفاعاً عن لبناننا العظيم"

جبران تويني
14 آذار 2005
ساحة الشهداء

For Truth, Justice & Liberty
May you rest in peace...

Tell me where it hurts

2005-12-08T23:38:00.000+02:00

Just came back from my Step 2 CS exam.

For those who have no idea what that is, it's a simulated clinical exam where you have to see 12 trained actors pretending to be patients and work them up.

I must say it was tough at first adapting to the 'make-believe' aspect of it all, and all my professional skills went down the drain with my first patient. But as the day wore on, the actor in me came center forward and I started getting better at it! Just tell me where you're pretending to hurt and I'll pretend to examine you and pretend to really care...

I think I'll get a little sleep now, then go frolic in Downtown Atlanta.
Frolic... makes it sound like I'm skipping around with flowers in my hair, doesn't it?

Make that roam.

Note: If you've googled for Step 2 CS advice, you can't do any better than head here.

Moron!

2005-12-07T08:49:00.000+02:00

I received this picture as an attachment to the email address I list on my blog.

It's a picture of some woman plus text underneath which you can obviously read for yourself.
I blurred the face and blacked-out the name and telephone number. The text claims that the woman in the picutre is some X Y, and the email address is XY@yahoo.com

I think you probably recognize by now what sort of childish and truly immoral ploy is being played out here. This immature individual is trying to humiliate this woman (for reasons unknown) by having complete strangers call her and ask for her 'services'. And to make sure she knows who's behind all this, he asks us to mention his name when we call.

I've postponed posting this for a few days, pondering whether or not it's the right thing to do. But in the end I went with it and the reason is two-fold:

If you happened to get this email or this picture forwarded to you, I ask you not to call the number and play into this sick little 'game'.
The person who sent me this obviously got my email off the blog and might be reading this. To you I say you have no shame or measure of decency. Nothing can justify this behaviour, moron. I kept your name in the text, we know who you are.

Travelog V - Chicago

2005-12-04T22:04:00.000+02:00

Sat 5 Dec, Chicago

Imagine that a large group of people got together and had the following conversation:

"Let's build a city here by this lake"
"It's gotta be big, but warm like a neighborhood"
"Yes, and Modern, but cultured"
"stylish, but welcoming"
"Yes... and multi-ethnic but with a spirit of its own"
"What should call it?"
"Andrew"
"No, that's stupid"
"Ok, Chicago?"
"Yeah"

My friend (and fellow blogger) Fouad had spoken of Chicago before, calling it "the city I love more than a woman."

I knew I would like it, but I didn't expect that I too would fall in love with this city as quickly as I did.

To point at any one thing in particular would make it sound petty and invite comparisons that are neither here nor there.

There is a synergy of facets and forces that flows under its streets, furls up its graceful pillars and flirts with your senses, rousing you to life.

For that, Chicago, I thank you.

Spring Fever

2005-12-01T21:30:00.000+02:00

We're interrupting our regular programming (Travelog) to bring you this vent of frustration at what's going on back home.

Now, back to the show.

Stork-ception

2005-11-30T22:29:00.000+02:00

On a day like today, I came to be.

I don't think the stork story makes much sense though... who knows.

Travelog IV - Windy City

2005-11-29T08:12:00.000+02:00

I have much to say about my first experiences in Cleveland.

Jet-lagged & exhausted, I nevertheless found the energy to initiate a profound discussion with my resident friends about life, relationships and the dichotomy between bachelor life in Lebanon and the US. What was I thinking?! I should've laid down my luggage and lunged toward the bed like a nursing puppy to the teat. I'm blaming it on the thin air and airline food.

In the days following, I had ample time to let my new surrounding sink in and adjust, adapt and explore. But I'm going to break the chronological order of this travelog for now and fast-forward a few days.

Saturday Morning, 2 am.

I'm standing on a train platform in downtown Cleveland. It's been snowing for the past 3 days. It's very odd how scientific the metreological reports are in the US. It's not just snowing, it's lake-effect snow I've been told. Riiiiight. Now I know why my jacket is peppered with the white stuff. Much better.

My friend has just dropped me off and I have collected my train ticket from the window. The train will be a half hour late, the announcer said. Back inside the station, most of the passengers are Amish folk, my previous knowledge of which did little to attenuate the feeling of "What the...?!" when I actually laid eyes on them. They seemed unreal, almost like animated portraits from the turn of the century. One of them was actually called Jebediah, which instantly brought to mind Weird Al Yankovic's spin on "Gangsta's Paradise", "Amish Paradise". I'm really not bigoted, but I was completely caught off guard. Of course, what were the Amish doing riding a modern technological marvel like a 'train' I couldn't understand.

But maybe they weren't really off the mark by much. After 9 hours on the Amtrak railway I started to get the impression modern technology was nowhere in sight. The train endlessly stopped for no reason and sometimes moved for hours at a snail's pace.

Never mind.
As dawn broke on Saturday I was 500 Km away from Cleveland, and looking at this awesome sight from my window.

A few minutes later, I would walk out of Union Station onto the streets of Chicago.

To be continued...

Travelog III - Touchdown

2005-11-29T08:03:00.000+02:00

"Welcome to New York, folks!"

Sweet words to hear at any time, but more so after that hellish flight from Paris.
The security checks were a breeze, or perhaps only seemed so because the stories I had heard made me expect a polygraph test and rabid pitbulls at my heels.

The only question they kept asking was what kind of doctor I am, which seemed completely irrelevant and somewhat disarming. "Wanna be a pediatrician" cleared me through customs without a single suitcase ransacked, so you may wanna try that if you're ever at JFK.

People I had last seen in Paris where nowhere to be found as most book on Air France, not American Airlines (smart move). I was told to move on to the next terminal for my connecting flight, but at the time I felt like a cigarette. I walked over to a newsstand and bought a pack. I asked for a lighter. It went something like this:

Me: "I'd like a lighter too please..."
Man: "Sorry sir, we don't sell lighters. They're banned on planes now."
Me: "So... how do I smoke this?"
Man: "We sell matchsticks."
Me (failing to see the friggin difference): "Ok, so I'll buy a box of those please?"
Man: "Sorry sir, we're sold out."
Me: (staring) "OKaaaaaay...."

I walk out the door and I notice a congregation of horn-blaring cabs and fare-hustling cab drivers. Avoiding eye contact I make my way to the side of the curb and proceed to search for any smoker in sight. They must have found a solution to this. I find a man dressed in denim pants and jacket blissfully puffing away and holding a garment bag over his shoulder. Not my first choice but I was desperate.

Me: "Can I get a light?"
Denim Man: "Sure" (holds out the lighter flaming)
Me: (looking away) "Thanks..."
Denim Man: "Inta Libneneh?" (Translation: Are you Lebanese?)
Me: "......." (speechless)

I had just traveled 9,000 KM. I had just endured shoe-less body searches, drunk rappers, and security checks. I had just come out to vent some god-knows-what with a cigarette puff on the curb of JFK. And the first New Yorker I talk to? Lebanese!

Turns out Denim Man was Lebanese and had lived in NY for the past 15 years and was at the airport to pick up his brother who had just returned from a trip to Beirut. The jacket in the garment bag was a gift. Lebanese are very talkative when they meet in situations like this. After all the customary well-wishing and hand-shaking, I made my way back to the terminal.

Many boring hours would pass before I finally arrive in Cleveland.

To be continued...

Travelog II - Turbulence

2005-11-25T03:45:00.000+02:00

My flight got off on time at 2 am.

I usually never miss the chance to see Beirut in all it's city-light glory as the plane flies just off the coast, but the turbulence and low clouds had me staring forward this time.

Leveling off, I unbuckled my belt and looked around the cabin. And sure enough they were there.

Who am I talking about? You see, any flight leaving Lebanon is guaranteed to have at least one of the following on board:

1) A disenchanted Lebanese immigrant returning from what he/she thought was a trip of a lifetime to an idyllic country that exists only in imagination and disappointed that it turned out to be a real place with real problems

2) A man who spares no opportunity to tell anyone who is willing to listen about the great job they are traveling for, describing it as something much more prestigious and exciting than it truly is

3) Someone who thinks that their previous few experiences on a plane qualifies them to critique the pilot's flight skills like an FAA supervisor

4) A woman who despite the gruelling experience of long flights and cramped conditions still finds it necessary to apply full make-up and wear high-heeled shoes

The list is long...

Charles Ta Gueule

At any rate, I finally landed in Paris at 6 AM.

Drowsy and waiting for my security clearance, I had a chance to capture dawn break.

Charles De Gualle Airport in my opinion can best be described as the burrows of an ant colony on acid. It is everything a modern airport should not be. And what got to me the most was not the heavy-handed screening the USA enforces on it's inbound flights as much as the fact that the French officers seem to enjoy it. You should have seen the look on the face of the guy swabbing my carry-on with the chemical detection gauze, he was like a kid in a toy store on Christmas. "Damn it, this guy is clean" I got almost hear him think. He should've hung around though, because another officer found it fitting that I disembowel that same carry-on over a table a few meters from the plane door, standing shoeless in a chilling tunnel and in plain view of everyone boarding the plane.

I don't think that the rappers noticed. Didn't I mention those? While waiting at the gate I noticed a horde of rap artists straight out of an MTV Snoop video waiting in line. It was hard not to notice as they were loud in speech and clothing. One had a jeweled hood ornament as big as my palm piercing his ear. Very "bling bling". I rolled my eyes and pitied the hapless soul stuck next to them on a transatlantic flight. That turned out to be yours truly. If I had a guardian angel that day she must have had PMS. The next 8 hours or so were a blur of "Under the Tuscan sun" and mini-naps, punctuated by "Yo I ain't seen your s---, so shut the f--- up, b----!"

To be continued...

The Travelog - Take Off

2005-11-23T20:27:00.000+02:00

The migrating bird has landed.
The note I added to my previous post still stands. This isn't my final departure from my grove, but a profound thrust in that direction.

Traveling alone over great distances and long hours gives your brain a big shove towards psychosis. Not only are you uncomfortable, tired, sleepy and in a sterile environment, you are also coming across more people than you would in a month of everyday living. Add to that the fact that you have nobody to speak and interact with, and you have all the catalysts for wild mental activity that takes your imagination and twists it into sometimes valuable but mostly surreal insight.

Of course, the only difference on this trip is that this time I have a blog to vent out all of those ideas and lighten the pressure in my exhausted cranium. So this is the first post in a series I'll call "Travelog".

Leaving Beirut

All trips from Beirut start at the airport, as we have no true civilian seaport to speak of and the land crossings only get you to places you don't really care to go to. So the Lebanese have always had a strong connection to that airport south of Beirut, the one they now call Rafik Hariri International airport officially, but to us it's just "the airport". I remember Beirut airport in it's war time state. The dark sandstone halls with high-ceilings, the chaotic buzzing activity (mostly pushing, shoving and stamping) and the second floor viewing platform that used to let you peer out onto the apron and runways and up along the hills to the south. There was always something heart-warming about seeing those old 707 jets with the big red tailfin and the sharply angular cedar. Something unmistakably "Lebanese". Of course there was something unmistakably Syrian as well, the non-uniformed 'security' Syrian staff who would take pleasure in humiliating us on arrival and departure, tossing our passports to us across the room like they were useless scraps. Maybe to them, that was what they were.

In comparison, today's airport is modern, clean and better designed. I remember when the new airport first opened, it was being completed in stages. It wasn't very efficient and not all details had been covered, but for the most part it certainly looked like it had the makings of something truly first class. Now, I haven't been out of the country for the past 3 years, so I don't know when exactly that process got derailed, but something sad has happened.
While waiting at the check-in counter the power went out. Twice. Amid the beeping of the computer terminals and the resetting of the weighing belts, I tried my best to get the image of a darkened control tower warm in the glow of candlelight out of my head. And other little annoyances which I will not get into now because a) they'll make me seem picky and b) little did I know that by the end of the trip, I would be wishing every place were Beirut.

To be continued...

Worst Analogies

2005-11-16T20:17:00.000+02:00

I happened upon a list of some of the worst analogies ever created.

Here are my favorites:

Her date was pleasant enough, but she knew that if her life were like a movie this guy would be buried in the credits as something like, "Second Tall Man."

He spoke with the wisdom than can only come from experience, like a guy who went blind because he looked at a solar eclipse without one of those boxes with a pinhole in it and goes around the country speaking at high schools about the dangers of looking at a solar eclipse without one of those little boxes with a pinhole in it.

The little boat gently drifted across the pond exactly the way a bowling ball wouldn't.

From the attic came an unearthly howl. The whole scene has an eerie, surreal quality, like when you're on vacation in another city and "Jeopardy" comes on at 7p.m. instead of 7:30.

Her vocabulary was as bad as, like, whatever.

He was as tall as a six-foot-three-inch tree.

Long separated by cruel fate, the star-crossed lovers raced across the grassy field toward each other like two freight trains, one having left Cleveland at 6:36 p.m. traveling at 55 mph, the other from Topeka at 4:19 p.m. at a speed of 35 mph.

The red brick wall was the color of a brick-red Crayola crayon.

... and my absolute favourite:

John and Mary never met. They were like two hummingbirds that had also never met.

Return of the Season

2005-11-16T19:15:00.000+02:00

The flock has dwindled.
The grove that cradled our songs and laughter is now vacant and bare.
The few of us who have remained have seen you run and fly away while we stayed behind.
When I look around all I see is our memories, shared triumphs and failures.

The winter is rolling in now, and the season of migration to the West (sorry Tayeb Saleh) is upon us once again.
This time I too shall leave.
Carried forward by the wind of change but with a heavy heart.

What will become of the grove and my perch?
Would it still be there when I return?
Would it remember me?

Today I got my Visa.
Tomorrow I spread my wings.
In a few days I take flight...

Update: I might have given the impression that this trip is the final one, it isn't. That will come in a few months time. Still, the first step begins tonight, a one month roundtrip that sets the whole migration in motion.

Give me a sec

2005-11-13T20:40:00.001+02:00

We've all heard of leap years.
But have you heard of a leap second?

It turns out that every few years or so, time needs to be adjusted by adding one second to our clocks, either in summer or at the start of the New Year.

These leap seconds are added to adjust for Earth's spin slowing down because of the tides, the moon, the mantle is sloshing about (who knew it was so sloshy?) and Lahoud is still president (not thoroughly substantiated... yet).

This month's issue of Scientific American reports on the ongoing debate over leap seconds, with some views arguing that we shouldn't think of time in terms of light & day on Earth anymore (in case we offend some alien race).

Reason why this is even interesting to me?
The debate has been going on for 5 years!