Hello everyone -
Since I last wrote, we've been enjoying the Beirut nightlife and generally not doing a whole lot in terms of sightseeing. BUT...eventually the 15-day visa ran out and it was time to go back to Syria. So, we spent three days in Aleppo wandering the medieval souqs. Deanna decided to head back to Beirut to meet up with friends, so I was now ready to put my extremely poor sense of direction and generally inadequate language skills to the test.
The highlight of Aleppo was definitely a visit to nearby Qa'laat Samaan or San Simeon. Although the name is familiar from Hearst Castle, this San Simeon (which may or may not be the same) has a very, very interesting past. It turns out that in the early days of Christianity,there were a lot of ascetics and desert wanderers who thought they could get closer to God by living in the worst conditions (better discomfort now than hell later) they could think of. Some would live in a cave, others in a cage suspended by a tree. One actually stood for "the rest of his life" wearing thick coverings to increase his suffering. St. Simeon was a stylite...who achieved his connection to God via sitting on a pillar. Apparently he started 3 meters above the ground, but as his disenchantment with other humans grew, he ended up10 meters high. Other stylites followed his example and according to a book I'm reading, it seems that all the hills in the area were covered with imitators. Very bizarre, but these early Christian visionaries were supposedly the celebrities of the Byzantine Era. Anyway, after Simeon's death, they built an amazing church around the pillar and you can still see most of the walls of the four Basilicas and the octagonal chamber surrounding the pillar. Very cool. Not so cool were fierce negotiations with the small-town drivers that ended with both parties feeling ripped off.
After the least efficient border crossing to date (waiting for an hour for a sheet of paper that allows me to buy a visa on the other side of the compound before returing to the original window to get stamped)...I arrived in Antakya, Turkey (ancient Antioch). Having a guidebook with no map of the city, I wandered for quite some time practicing my Turkish pronunciation asking random passers-by trying to find a specific hotel...only to find out that it had been sold, renovated, and was now three times the price it used to be. By this time, I had walked about a mile with my backpack so I caved in and stayed. I am hoping that I am not broke (or addicted to the luxury of AC) when I meet back up with Deanna.
From Antakya, I took a very long bus ride to Sanilurfa (Urfa or Edessain past times). Urfa is famous for being on the front of the Persian (Muslim) and Byzantine (Christian) empires and also for reputedly being the first city to convert to Christianity outside of Palestine. There's a fish pond here (beneath a citadel and next to a mosque) where they have considered the fish holy for over 2000 years...starting witha Syrian pagan cult of fertility (worshipping water and life), being translated into a Christian origin (Nimrod the Hunter tried to kill Abraham's son by slingshotting the baby into a fire only to have the fire transform into a pond and the fish served as a cradle), and finally being respected by Muslims as well. It's very interesting to see this tradition transcend specific religion.
At the park, I met a policeman, Sezai, who has been independently studying English for about 10 years. I had dinner at his house where we talked about all sorts of topics such as: the teachings of Mohammed, why English is a difficult language, how all the Turkish people love each other (notwithstanding the Armenian genocide and mass suppression of the Kurds - as a policeman, he really didn't want to discuss any "dissidents"), and finally...how if the man is "stronger" than the women, there is no reason that he shouldn't take another lover to spare his wife from the strain. As we were discussing this matter,he actually called his "girlfriend" and I got to have a conversation with Sezai translating. What exactly does one say in this situation? "Hi...have you met the kids?"
From Urfa, I paid a visit to Mt. Nemrut...a fantastic sight where an ancient king built his memorial as a massive set of statues of all the gods sitting next to one another (and surprise, surprise - the king himself is included as a god with Zeus and Hercules!). It's a wonderful sight at sunset but the highlight for me was riding in a van with four Kurdish and two Taiwanese (real ones) tourists. The busdriver encouraged the Taiwanese to sing (which they did), and then the Kurds thought a cultural display would be nice and they sang folksongs (beautifully...I think we had picked up a choirgroup) for the next hour and we had a discussion about how they wanted an autonomous state so the Turkish would stop suppressing their culture. About ten years ago, all Kurdish language, music, and television was banned in Turkey as the government is deathly afraid of separating the country. It turns out that the Kurds are the largest ethnic population in the world (25million) that do not have their own country. However, the Kurds I met do not want full independance as they don't trust the Iraqi Kurds one bit...I guess the lesson is there will be divisions in any group...human nature?
From Mt. Nemrut, I made my way to famous and fabulous Cappadocia. Everywhere in this area are "fairy chimneys" or huge rock formations rising 100 to 200 feet...and are soft enough that houses, hotels, and churches have been carved into the interiors. You look out over the horizon and there hundreds of these stuctures in any direction - it's an amazing effect. I walked around the "open air museum" in Goreme today which is a group of 10 or so churches carved into stone with amazing frescos painted within in the Byzantine style.
The downside of Cappadocia however is that it's tourist central...I think I've lost my ability to deal with them in any large number. This being August, I think there are more Italians in Turkey than in Italy right now. Everywhere I go, it seems that there are at least five large tour buses right along with me. It's maddening and I find myself thinking what would happen if I took a large rock and killed a tourguide...tempting. I think it's time to come home soon.
I hope everyone is well and not too hot. It got to 50 Celsius in Urfa while I was there! (120 degrees for my Farenheit friends). And of course everyone I met tells me..."you know this is the hottest place in Turkey?"...great.
Wednesday, August 10, 2005
Friday, July 29, 2005
07/29/2005: Dodging bombs and love at first sight in Lebanon
Hello everyone!
It's been a very eventful time since we've arrived in Lebanon with a few strange, wonderful, and scary experiences.
After arriving here in Lebanon, we spent three fairly ordinary days in Tripoli exploring northern Lebanon. There's a great souk (market) there where we saw how soap has been made for hundreds of years and they gave us free samples: "just try the jasmine! you'll love it...better than Body Shop"...which the soap might be if it didn't make me itch for two days afterwards. We also made a day-trip to the famed Cedars of Lebanon which were very nice and in an extremely scenic location but I'm not sure if I would want to relive the climbing 4km in flip-flops again.
The real excitement of Lebanon happens in Beirut of course. It's such a metropolitan, fun city where you can walk down the most modern street with glass and polished steel cafes and shops, turn a corner and see a building completely gutted with bullet holes and mortar attacks from the country's fifteen year civil war and problems with Israel. There's an uneasy peace here between the Christians and Muslims after having just forced out the Syrian army (that was "protecting Lebanon" a few months ago.
Our first morning in Beirut, we had planned to take a day-trip to Baalbek and then come back, get changed, and head out to experience Beirut's famed nightlife - centered around Rue Monot - an area with tons of bars, nightclubs, and restaurants. Baalbek is about two hours outside of Beirut and definitely one of the finest Roman ruins...a temple that's absolutely giant - definitely awe-inspiring and well worth the visit. While wandering the ruins, we also heard quite a bit of celebratory fireworks and what sounded to us like automatic gunfire in the distance. Baalbek is ALSO famous because it's the stronghold of the Hezbollah - a militant group dedicated to defending the country from Israel and other zionist supporting countries (like the US) - and classified by our government as a terrorist organization. Locally, it's a political organization that has a lot of support in the area...as we saw in the Hezbollah Museum in Baalbek - displaying their mission as well as the belongings, badges, and guns of about twenty of their "martyrs" that died for the cause. For me it was a little scary and Deanna and I decided to be Canadian again for the time being.
As we waited for the bus back, we met a Muslim family that split time between a village near Baalbek and Beirut. Our main translator was a very smart girl of 17 named Taagreed. They were SO nice to us and asked if we'd like to come to a party that evening in Beirut. Thinking that it would be a great way to experience something new, we readily agreed. It turns out that the party was the pre-event for a wedding the next day and was for women only. So instead of the party, I stayed with the uncle and brother-in-law...neither of whom spoke any English...and sat smoking the water-pipe with the neighbors...who also did not speak English. It was a long night, but the family was friendly and I took my part as the favorite visiting deaf-mute. What I did manage to figure out was that it was a very Hezbollah friendly part of Beirut and the Hezbollah does not encourage grown men wearing shorts...which of course I was wearing.
After the party (read Deanna's VERY interesting account of everything at www.offandaway.blogspot.com), we found out that Rue Monot (where we were supposed to have gone out that night) had suffered a car bomb explosion - theoretically timed to the day Condoleeza Rice was visiting Beirut. No one was killed, but when we went the next day we saw that all of the buildings on one intersection had been damaged with virtually every pane of glass on one-side of the street destroyed, I realized how lucky we were to not have been in the area. It's a bit ironic that while I was worried about hanging out in a Hezbollah friendly area of the city, that's what ultimately kept us safe.
SO...we went back the following night (because they liked us and also wanted to have an outing where we all (re: me) could participate). We rounded up the family and headed out to Fantasy World themepark...basically where all the traveling carnival equipment that's deemed unsafe goes to die. The family is SO hospitable that we just didn't want to disappoint them in any way...and therefore I found myself riding the tilt-o-whirl, swinging in a pirate ship, crashing bumper cars with a head-scarved 16-year old passenger, getting on and falling off the mechanical bull in quick succession, buying a balloon from an Arabic tele-tubbie for a tempermental but very cute three year old, and generally having a much better time than I'm willing to admit.
And...because the Lebanese are such incredible hosts (and very, very insistent), we found ourselves invited to spend a few nights at their family home in Nahle...near Baalbek where we had met Taagreed originally. Coming from a small family spread out over two countries, it was quite a different experience for me...I think we met no less than 50 people over the course of two days. We were paraded around the town, shown off to family members and strangers alike, fed 8 times aday, and taken to every local sight one might imagine. They were just so insistently nice that at times it got to be too much and I wanted to kill myself. I did rediscover the art of pretending to eat and then finding potted plants or windows to dispose of certain yogurt based foods I just could NOT stomach. I also had to put aside my cultural upbringing and learn to kiss men on the cheek multiple times in succession...and not to touch the women at all...not even shaking hands.
It was fascinating to get into the world of a small-town Muslim family...to see how important family is in all aspects of life, to see that each individual (or family) really decides his or herself upon how "religious" they will be - whether or not they prey, whether the girls cover their hair or not, whether to go to the mosque, etc... The other area where Deanna and I both got a little bit of insight was how the separation of marriageable boys and girls can lead to some rash decision-making.
One of the girls we spent a lot of time with was a 16-year old named Mouna. She didn't speak English very well, so I had fairly limited conversation with her but had spent a fair bit of time in her presence with Taagreed and Deanna. The day before we were leaving, I got a lot of questions from other women in the family whether I had a girlfriend, whether I had thought about staying in Lebanon, etc... That night Mouna gave me a flower, her picture, and a note written inside a Valentine's card. Basically she said many nice things and that she had a "big love" for me, that she had known as soon as we met, and not to ever forget her because she would never forget me. Honestly, I didn't know how to react. The things running through my head were:
1. She's 16.
2. I've never seen her without a headscarf.
3. She doesn't speak English. I don't speak Arabic.
4. She thinks I'm Canadien.
5. She's a devout Muslim. I don't believe in God.
6. She's 16.
Mouna is certainly a great girl (and I think "girl" is the right term here) and I do not wish to demean her with this account of events, but it was just so surreal. I think there's a real tendency to "jump" into things here because the sexes don't get to interact that much, rarely get to choose a partner...or get a very limited pool of candidates. From a family perspective, it may also have a little bit to do with getting a Greencard - we had some discussions earlier in the visit about what it takes to get visas to Canada (like I know?) starting with "say for example you married Mouna or Taagreed...".
I took Mouna aside later and explained to her while I was very flattered, there were just too many differences and issues, but any guy would be lucky to marry her. The next morning, I had to say all the same things to her sister since Mouna had understood perhaps 15% of what I said. Needless to say, I was pretty relieved when we got on the bus to Beirut. NOTE: Deanna has a great story that makes this one look completely trivial...read her blog...seriously.
So...back in Beirut and enjoying the nightlife that's a lot like LA in spots. We met a great bartender/future bar owner/potential partner who's showed us around the scene. I'm thinking about investing in a bar here...seems like a lot of potential for a place that's awakening from 30 years of civil war and Syria 'occupation'.
Hope everyone is well!
It's been a very eventful time since we've arrived in Lebanon with a few strange, wonderful, and scary experiences.
After arriving here in Lebanon, we spent three fairly ordinary days in Tripoli exploring northern Lebanon. There's a great souk (market) there where we saw how soap has been made for hundreds of years and they gave us free samples: "just try the jasmine! you'll love it...better than Body Shop"...which the soap might be if it didn't make me itch for two days afterwards. We also made a day-trip to the famed Cedars of Lebanon which were very nice and in an extremely scenic location but I'm not sure if I would want to relive the climbing 4km in flip-flops again.
The real excitement of Lebanon happens in Beirut of course. It's such a metropolitan, fun city where you can walk down the most modern street with glass and polished steel cafes and shops, turn a corner and see a building completely gutted with bullet holes and mortar attacks from the country's fifteen year civil war and problems with Israel. There's an uneasy peace here between the Christians and Muslims after having just forced out the Syrian army (that was "protecting Lebanon" a few months ago.
Our first morning in Beirut, we had planned to take a day-trip to Baalbek and then come back, get changed, and head out to experience Beirut's famed nightlife - centered around Rue Monot - an area with tons of bars, nightclubs, and restaurants. Baalbek is about two hours outside of Beirut and definitely one of the finest Roman ruins...a temple that's absolutely giant - definitely awe-inspiring and well worth the visit. While wandering the ruins, we also heard quite a bit of celebratory fireworks and what sounded to us like automatic gunfire in the distance. Baalbek is ALSO famous because it's the stronghold of the Hezbollah - a militant group dedicated to defending the country from Israel and other zionist supporting countries (like the US) - and classified by our government as a terrorist organization. Locally, it's a political organization that has a lot of support in the area...as we saw in the Hezbollah Museum in Baalbek - displaying their mission as well as the belongings, badges, and guns of about twenty of their "martyrs" that died for the cause. For me it was a little scary and Deanna and I decided to be Canadian again for the time being.
As we waited for the bus back, we met a Muslim family that split time between a village near Baalbek and Beirut. Our main translator was a very smart girl of 17 named Taagreed. They were SO nice to us and asked if we'd like to come to a party that evening in Beirut. Thinking that it would be a great way to experience something new, we readily agreed. It turns out that the party was the pre-event for a wedding the next day and was for women only. So instead of the party, I stayed with the uncle and brother-in-law...neither of whom spoke any English...and sat smoking the water-pipe with the neighbors...who also did not speak English. It was a long night, but the family was friendly and I took my part as the favorite visiting deaf-mute. What I did manage to figure out was that it was a very Hezbollah friendly part of Beirut and the Hezbollah does not encourage grown men wearing shorts...which of course I was wearing.
After the party (read Deanna's VERY interesting account of everything at www.offandaway.blogspot.com), we found out that Rue Monot (where we were supposed to have gone out that night) had suffered a car bomb explosion - theoretically timed to the day Condoleeza Rice was visiting Beirut. No one was killed, but when we went the next day we saw that all of the buildings on one intersection had been damaged with virtually every pane of glass on one-side of the street destroyed, I realized how lucky we were to not have been in the area. It's a bit ironic that while I was worried about hanging out in a Hezbollah friendly area of the city, that's what ultimately kept us safe.
SO...we went back the following night (because they liked us and also wanted to have an outing where we all (re: me) could participate). We rounded up the family and headed out to Fantasy World themepark...basically where all the traveling carnival equipment that's deemed unsafe goes to die. The family is SO hospitable that we just didn't want to disappoint them in any way...and therefore I found myself riding the tilt-o-whirl, swinging in a pirate ship, crashing bumper cars with a head-scarved 16-year old passenger, getting on and falling off the mechanical bull in quick succession, buying a balloon from an Arabic tele-tubbie for a tempermental but very cute three year old, and generally having a much better time than I'm willing to admit.
And...because the Lebanese are such incredible hosts (and very, very insistent), we found ourselves invited to spend a few nights at their family home in Nahle...near Baalbek where we had met Taagreed originally. Coming from a small family spread out over two countries, it was quite a different experience for me...I think we met no less than 50 people over the course of two days. We were paraded around the town, shown off to family members and strangers alike, fed 8 times aday, and taken to every local sight one might imagine. They were just so insistently nice that at times it got to be too much and I wanted to kill myself. I did rediscover the art of pretending to eat and then finding potted plants or windows to dispose of certain yogurt based foods I just could NOT stomach. I also had to put aside my cultural upbringing and learn to kiss men on the cheek multiple times in succession...and not to touch the women at all...not even shaking hands.
It was fascinating to get into the world of a small-town Muslim family...to see how important family is in all aspects of life, to see that each individual (or family) really decides his or herself upon how "religious" they will be - whether or not they prey, whether the girls cover their hair or not, whether to go to the mosque, etc... The other area where Deanna and I both got a little bit of insight was how the separation of marriageable boys and girls can lead to some rash decision-making.
One of the girls we spent a lot of time with was a 16-year old named Mouna. She didn't speak English very well, so I had fairly limited conversation with her but had spent a fair bit of time in her presence with Taagreed and Deanna. The day before we were leaving, I got a lot of questions from other women in the family whether I had a girlfriend, whether I had thought about staying in Lebanon, etc... That night Mouna gave me a flower, her picture, and a note written inside a Valentine's card. Basically she said many nice things and that she had a "big love" for me, that she had known as soon as we met, and not to ever forget her because she would never forget me. Honestly, I didn't know how to react. The things running through my head were:
1. She's 16.
2. I've never seen her without a headscarf.
3. She doesn't speak English. I don't speak Arabic.
4. She thinks I'm Canadien.
5. She's a devout Muslim. I don't believe in God.
6. She's 16.
Mouna is certainly a great girl (and I think "girl" is the right term here) and I do not wish to demean her with this account of events, but it was just so surreal. I think there's a real tendency to "jump" into things here because the sexes don't get to interact that much, rarely get to choose a partner...or get a very limited pool of candidates. From a family perspective, it may also have a little bit to do with getting a Greencard - we had some discussions earlier in the visit about what it takes to get visas to Canada (like I know?) starting with "say for example you married Mouna or Taagreed...".
I took Mouna aside later and explained to her while I was very flattered, there were just too many differences and issues, but any guy would be lucky to marry her. The next morning, I had to say all the same things to her sister since Mouna had understood perhaps 15% of what I said. Needless to say, I was pretty relieved when we got on the bus to Beirut. NOTE: Deanna has a great story that makes this one look completely trivial...read her blog...seriously.
So...back in Beirut and enjoying the nightlife that's a lot like LA in spots. We met a great bartender/future bar owner/potential partner who's showed us around the scene. I'm thinking about investing in a bar here...seems like a lot of potential for a place that's awakening from 30 years of civil war and Syria 'occupation'.
Hope everyone is well!
Monday, July 18, 2005
07/18/2005: Inside the axis of evil
Hello everyone -
Crossing the border from Jordan to Syria was a bit of a worry. In addition to the fact that it was SYRIA, we had also heard some stories about how having any evidence of an Israeli visit would earn you an immediate rejection at the border. So...the night before we had to throw away all our entrance tickets, newspapers, make sure to change all our Israeli money and also refrain from bookmarking or writing comments in the Israel section of our guidebooks - apparently they've checked in the past. Since I've collected money from each country we've visited, I hid a sheckel deep inside my bag and also took the slip of paper they stamped at the border (in lieu of stamping our passports) and hid it inside my shoe. I felt completely ridiculous, but better safe then sorry. I shouldn't have worried. Little did I realize that as we rode over the border (in a taxi with two local gentlemen who knew how things worked and happened to buy FAR more duty-free than they were allowed to take over the border) that instead of dealing with all the hassles of customs and waiting in a line, why not instead just drive to the front, slip the guard some extra cash and breeze on through? The extent of our "check" was the guard opening the trunk, grunting, and waving us through. Gotta love it.
Damascus is a wonderful city. Aside from the propaganda in the newspaper (headlines to the effect of: "US sponsors terror groups in Israel"), people have generally been friendly and we have not been hiding the fact that we're American. We did have a negative experience at the visa office "yes...I know a re-entry visa is expensive, but it's also very expensive and difficult for us to visit America"...case closed.
We paid a visit to an Ummayad Mosque which is the most beautiful mosque I've visited so far. The detail on the walls was absolutely gorgeous and there is a very real sense of serenity within the courtyard - but the real treat was that if you weren't dressed "appropriately" for the mosque (including head covering for women) they gave you a robe to wear over your clothes. I swear the brown robes with hoods looked exactly like Jedi robes so I had the weird feeling of being in a holy place with a bunch of Jedi walking around. And yes...I am taking my medication.
From Damascus, we went to the ancient Roman city of Palmyra and to be honest, it paled in comparison to Jerash in Jordan (mainly because it hadn't been restored). There's nothing like that empty feeling of "that's it?" after traveling for 5 hours on the hottest bus through the desert in 107 degree heat. We left the next morning and took a beeline to the Mediterranean Coast at Tartus.
In Tartus, we happened to sit at a restaurant whose owner heard we were from California and then called his friend - a Lebanese man who had lived in LA years before - to meet us and chat. Sam was an extremely friendly guy who spoke Arabic and English. The restaurant owner(Ghazi) spoke only Arabic and French. Deanna speaks English and French. I, shamefully, only speak English. It was an interesting "conversation" to say the least. But it did showcase for me the famed Middle Eastern hospitality. From our chance meeting and exchanging a few hours conversation, we ended up with:
a. arrangements (transport) to visit a famous Crusader castle where Ghazi would call the driver every two hours to make sure we were okay, and insist that we stop by for a lemonade when we return.
b. dinner at Sam's house (a very imposing modern castle with terraced garden and view over the valley)
c. an invitation to stay at Sam's house rather than book a hotel
d. an invitation to travel to Damascus and stay in Ghazi's villa for a few days
e. a ride across the border into Lebanon - in a nice Mercedes rather than our normal transport of buses manufactured before 1970
Just amazingly nice people...we actually did take a ride to Lebanon with Sam and his brother, and it's COMPLETELY different to cross the border with people that are important and friends with all the borderfolks. First of all, customs checks were pretty much non-existent. Secondly, instead of waiting in any line (not for important people apparently) we walked into the border patrol chief's office and were served coffee while Sam chatted with the gentlemen. In the meantime, someone came and collected our passports and took them for processing. And when we were getting dropped off at our hotel in Tripoli, Sam and his brother took us to a great breakfast and then apologized that they couldn't introduce us to a friend that could show us about Tripoli. Just great folks...but it was also a bit of a relief to be back on our own.
Okay...sorry for ramblings and I hope everyone is doing well. More on Lebanon after I experience the place a bit!
Crossing the border from Jordan to Syria was a bit of a worry. In addition to the fact that it was SYRIA, we had also heard some stories about how having any evidence of an Israeli visit would earn you an immediate rejection at the border. So...the night before we had to throw away all our entrance tickets, newspapers, make sure to change all our Israeli money and also refrain from bookmarking or writing comments in the Israel section of our guidebooks - apparently they've checked in the past. Since I've collected money from each country we've visited, I hid a sheckel deep inside my bag and also took the slip of paper they stamped at the border (in lieu of stamping our passports) and hid it inside my shoe. I felt completely ridiculous, but better safe then sorry. I shouldn't have worried. Little did I realize that as we rode over the border (in a taxi with two local gentlemen who knew how things worked and happened to buy FAR more duty-free than they were allowed to take over the border) that instead of dealing with all the hassles of customs and waiting in a line, why not instead just drive to the front, slip the guard some extra cash and breeze on through? The extent of our "check" was the guard opening the trunk, grunting, and waving us through. Gotta love it.
Damascus is a wonderful city. Aside from the propaganda in the newspaper (headlines to the effect of: "US sponsors terror groups in Israel"), people have generally been friendly and we have not been hiding the fact that we're American. We did have a negative experience at the visa office "yes...I know a re-entry visa is expensive, but it's also very expensive and difficult for us to visit America"...case closed.
We paid a visit to an Ummayad Mosque which is the most beautiful mosque I've visited so far. The detail on the walls was absolutely gorgeous and there is a very real sense of serenity within the courtyard - but the real treat was that if you weren't dressed "appropriately" for the mosque (including head covering for women) they gave you a robe to wear over your clothes. I swear the brown robes with hoods looked exactly like Jedi robes so I had the weird feeling of being in a holy place with a bunch of Jedi walking around. And yes...I am taking my medication.
From Damascus, we went to the ancient Roman city of Palmyra and to be honest, it paled in comparison to Jerash in Jordan (mainly because it hadn't been restored). There's nothing like that empty feeling of "that's it?" after traveling for 5 hours on the hottest bus through the desert in 107 degree heat. We left the next morning and took a beeline to the Mediterranean Coast at Tartus.
In Tartus, we happened to sit at a restaurant whose owner heard we were from California and then called his friend - a Lebanese man who had lived in LA years before - to meet us and chat. Sam was an extremely friendly guy who spoke Arabic and English. The restaurant owner(Ghazi) spoke only Arabic and French. Deanna speaks English and French. I, shamefully, only speak English. It was an interesting "conversation" to say the least. But it did showcase for me the famed Middle Eastern hospitality. From our chance meeting and exchanging a few hours conversation, we ended up with:
a. arrangements (transport) to visit a famous Crusader castle where Ghazi would call the driver every two hours to make sure we were okay, and insist that we stop by for a lemonade when we return.
b. dinner at Sam's house (a very imposing modern castle with terraced garden and view over the valley)
c. an invitation to stay at Sam's house rather than book a hotel
d. an invitation to travel to Damascus and stay in Ghazi's villa for a few days
e. a ride across the border into Lebanon - in a nice Mercedes rather than our normal transport of buses manufactured before 1970
Just amazingly nice people...we actually did take a ride to Lebanon with Sam and his brother, and it's COMPLETELY different to cross the border with people that are important and friends with all the borderfolks. First of all, customs checks were pretty much non-existent. Secondly, instead of waiting in any line (not for important people apparently) we walked into the border patrol chief's office and were served coffee while Sam chatted with the gentlemen. In the meantime, someone came and collected our passports and took them for processing. And when we were getting dropped off at our hotel in Tripoli, Sam and his brother took us to a great breakfast and then apologized that they couldn't introduce us to a friend that could show us about Tripoli. Just great folks...but it was also a bit of a relief to be back on our own.
Okay...sorry for ramblings and I hope everyone is doing well. More on Lebanon after I experience the place a bit!
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