On White Snow and a Purple Foot

Feraya, seen from downtown Beirut

So it snowed and it snowed and it snowed some more. Today, sunny skies, and the snow lies as low as Broumana. That’s pretty low for Lebanon. Ski slopes opened today, I heard, but alas, all I could do was look at it from afar. The picture taken at in the snow itself (below, at night) was actually taken by someone else (http://www.savelebanon.org/serendipity/) who often posts great shots of Lebanon.

Anyway, the reason why I haven’t been skiing yet is because on Christmas Day, I stepped in a hole while unloading the one million presents from my car to the house of my sister-in law, where the unwrapping was taking place. The ankle was so thick I couldn’t even wear my shoe that day. Now we are three days later, and this is what it looks like now. With a little luck I should be on the slopes in a week from now. Let’s hope we’ll have snow by then.

In the meantime I am playing around with my new laptop. You get the laptop as a present, but then you need to buy a new mouse, a new keyboard (I like big bulky keyboards, not the puny laptop ones), an external harddrive, a new printer, as my old printer does not have a USB cable, a new scanner (same issue) and on and on we go. At least I was finally able to connect to the internet again, after three days of inactiv

Merry Christmas

Winter has come

Winter seems to have started, at last. Rain rain and rain, some hail, much thunder, and some more rain today. Up in the mountain it is snowing I've been told. Maybe I get to ski before the New Year, that would be a first.

Doors

Holidays at last! Still have to do my Christmas shopping, which is rather complicated as I am bankrupt and my pay check won't arrive until the 28th. Guess what you guys get for Christmas....
Nothing much happening at the moment (Last time I wrote that they blew up Tueni). If something major does happen tomorrow, I think I'll move - like Michel Hayek - into the business of fortune telling. If not, I am going to do my Christmas shopping and make some more pictures of doors. These doors can almost all be found in the Gemyze area. My buddy in crime - Seoul sister - is probably laying on a beach in Goa, India, by now, so not much help there; I'll go out and have to do it on my own.

The Hair Cut

On a totally different note; this hair of Hana really had to go. It’s been there since birth. Some of it curls, some of it doesn’t. It’s got about 17 different lengths, 21 if you count after the time she got her hands on the scissors and did some creative hair dressing herself. So I’ve been discussing cutting her hair for some time. Her dad does not agree, but he’s got little say in the matter. The one that did object – and she did it very sly – was Marissa, the housekeeper. She could not object outright, as she is only a working member of the household. So she somehow got it into Hana’s head that cutting hair was very, very, very ‘dangerous’. Whenevr I brought up the subject, I would hear, “No no no, is very dangerous” from Hana.
We went this weekend anyway. I tried the local hair dresser. He had to let us go; If the shop windows were made of crystal, she’d have shattered them with her shrill piercing cry. I did finally get the barber to give it a try. Tears all over the place, but her hair did get organized somehow. I kept the curls.

Before the hair cut

At the barber

Could have been worse . . .

Radicalization of the Blogs

As tension over the coninuous killing of anti-Syrian politicians and journalists in the country heightens, so does fear. And with fear comes radicalization. It’s is rather interesting reading the Lebanese blogs these past few days. Blogs that previously were relatively neutral, (at least to me) or semi-balanced, now show their true colors. I read blogs whose authors I couldn’t really place as far as religious sects goes. Now suddenly the picture becomes clear. It is funny how radicalization in Lebanon does not go along lines of left and right, but rather Christian en Muslim. It doesn’t bother me, anyone’s true color is interesting, but it does show how ‘skin deep’ this unity is.
And so more radical stuff pops up. Here’s an interesting link I got from one of them. A German movie director managed to get six men to talk who participated in the Sabra & Chatila massacre in 1982, when close to a 1,000, although some say even more, Palestinian women, children and old men (the entire ‘productive’ male contingent had been shipped out of the camp to Tunisia just a few days earlier) got massacred in a three day killing-spree. For those not quite familiar with this; Christian militia men entered the camps and slaughtered quite a few Palestininans. So far, no one had ever been arrested for these crimes, I even believe it falls under the National Amnesty Law here in Lebanon. The Israelis, according to these guys, had an active hand in it. The documentary is called ‘Massaker’ (Massacre in German). Not a very nice story for the Christians.
To keep things balanced then, here is a story from Michael Totten giving Hezbollah a hard time after he got invited by them to an Iftar. It’s pretty accurate though, I’ve been through the same stuff with these guys. They can be very friendly, and incredible rude one minute later. No more Mister Nice Guy. My most favorite account of dealing with Hezbollah, and this was way back in the early ‘90’s, was that they ‘invited’ me to go with their guys into the field. So I could see how they worked, thought and lived, and see that these were guys just like everyone else. When we got to the part where they said “and you can swim together” I thought I didn’t quite get it. Why would I want to swim with those guys? I must have misunderstood them, but I didn’t.
Once, during the Grapes of Wrath, the Israeli incursion into Lebanon in 1996, I drove into Sidon during an Israeli shelling from the sea. So the Lebanese police was sitting in their shelter, and were nowhere to be seen. What was to be seen was bearded men on the road, stopping my car, and ordering me to put my feet down. I had been running around all day, was hot and sweaty, and had taken my shoes off, and had placed my feet on the dashboard. “Feet down”, Mr. Beard snarled at me. I thought it was a joke. I laughed at him. “What? Is this some kind of joke?” “FEET DOWN! NOW!” The driver tried politely to interfere, and asked him on what authority he was stopping us to order me, in my own car, to put my feet down. So Mr. Beard got his gun out. He didn’t point it at us, he just got it out of his belt. “FEET DOWN!” I got the message. That’s the kind of people you are going to deal with if any of the more radical parties get to power. They may seem quite nice and friendly upfront, but they really are not very nice.
Another nasty little one is a film about the existence of Israel. This does not give a very favorable view of the Muslims either, but with the camp stuff in mind, we’ve got balance again.

Funeral of Gebran Tueni

I went downtown today to bury Gebran Tueni. I had another five million other things to do, but the way it looks now is that the Syrians will eliminate just about anyone who speaks up against the Syrian regime and its interference in Lebanon, and in the end no one will be left to speak out or fight the Syrians. So I had my priorities; I chose the funeral. Lebanese tend to be a little passive about active involvement in politics. I am no different, I should add, and attend only the major demonstrations. The so-called ‘Cedar’ revolution - at its height during the ‘one million march’ on March 14 - ended for me the moment I saw party flags appearing on Martyr’s square again. It started with the Lebanese Forces, and their Nazi-like arm salute. Well, that fits them pretty good, this salute. Then came the Druze and the orange of Aoun. Hezbollah and Amal – very intelligently – stayed away; they probably would have gotten lynched of they’d shown up, after the extremely pro-Syrian staunch they’ve taking up, and are still taking up.

It was not a very moving event; too massive probably, besides, I didn’t really know the guy other than that he was vehemently anti-Syrian. But I guess the power is in the numbers. We walked from the church, in downtown Beirut, and almost wall to wall to the mosque that Hariri had built, and where he is buried, to the graveyard in Ashrafiye, which is the Christian part of town. Anyone who will tell you that there no longer is an East and West Beirut is dead-wrong. Physically there may not be any signs, but psychologically there is an East and a West. It doesn’t bother me much, I like both sides; each one has a different charm. It does, however, not help the unity of the country very much. Right now it’s the Christians and the Sunni Muslims against the Shia Muslims. Actually, it does not really have much to do with religion, but rather who they support. The first group is against the Syrians, the latter for. They are financially dependent on the outside (Syria, and to a greater extend, Iran), and it's the paymaster that dictates, after all.

My sister in-law and I are great believers in the fact that out there should be people like us; for whom religion is such a non-entity that it is almost a joke. We think someone should start a United Lebanese Party; non religious and with an actual political agenda, an not some organ that is set up to gather goodies for their confederates.

We hope that the next demonstration will be in the direction of Baabda; the Presidential Palace, in order to evict the current president of Lebanon. Talk on the town is that this might happen on Christmas Eve. Could they not have picked another day? Why Christmas Eve? If you want a low-turn out, do it on Christmas Eve. Why not this Friday night? Or Saturday night; most people don’t work on Sunday so it’s okay to stay out late. Anyone with me on this?

6:25 A.M.

So here I am, 6:25 in the morning, showered, all dressed up, and nowhere to go. It seems that, because of the mourning for Gebran Tueni, schools will be closed today. Did anyone inform me? No. So I got out of bed as usual, got ready, and just as I was ready to pack my things for work, I figured I might as well check the early morning mail. Yep; no work today.
Well, maybe I can get the 5 million things done that are still stacked up behind me.

What's Left of the Car

What's left of the car (upside down)

Gebran Tunei gets killed

Another car bomb, another journalist. Word is out that Gebran Tueni, journalist and head of the An-Nahar newspaper got killed in an explosion.

This information appeared on the web not that long ago:

Gebran Tueni Reveals He Tops an Assassination List in Lebanon

Monday, August 29, 2005
Beirut lawmaker Gebran Tueni said from Paris Monday that his name was listed among Lebanese politicians and journalists marked for assassination. Tueni made the revelation in a live telephone interview with LBCI, as well as Al-Hurra satellite and the Paris-based Al-Sharq radio saying the death list containing his name was passed to him by the U.N. commission investigating ex-Premier Hariri's assassination through Lebanese authorities.

And this is what happened today.

Beirut blast kills anti-Syria MP

Monday, December 12, 2005
BEIRUT, Lebanon (CNN) -- A journalist and anti-Syrian member of Lebanon's parliament was killed Monday morning when a massive car bomb exploded in an eastern Beirut suburb, opposition officials told CNN.
A Red Cross worker at the scene said four people died in the blast. Gebran Tueni, the head of An-Nahar newspaper, died in the explosion, which destroyed more than half a dozen vehicles and shattered windows in buildings for hundreds of meters. A high-ranking Lebanese security source said Tueni's cell phone and laptop computer were found at the site of the bombing.
Journalist Anthony Mills called it "a scene of destruction," saying windows were broken in buildings for hundreds of meters.

Well, so much for that. It seems that the Syrians are not quite 'out' yet.

Cat in the Window

Nothing to report today.Am counting down to the holiday. In dire need of rest and relaxation.

A Christmas Tree in Beirut

The annual event of the ‘Buying of the Christmas Tree’ arrived. So we went out and bought a Christmas tree. It’s about 2 meters high, and green. Very nice. I like having a tree in the house’ great smell. For hubbie however, December is a stressful time, as he is allergic to, yes you’ve guessed it; evergreen trees (‘dennegroen’ in Dutch). Now where would you pick up a peculiar allergy like that? I believe however that this is an acceptable price to pay for living with a Dutch, so the tree stays.

We used to buy a living one back home, and when I lived in Canada, we’d go out into a tree farm, and you could cut your own. When I first got to Lebanon, they didn’t even sell real Christmas trees, and I had to do with a plastic one. Lebanon, with a cedar tree as its national symbol and on the flag, does not have much evergreen, and Christmas trees have to be imported. This is the 11th year we have a ‘real’ one.

The past years we used to buy spruce (Norway spruce) for the simple reason that this was the only type for sale in Beirut, but these things were probably cut down already somewhere in October, and by the time they went on display in December, they were as dry as could be, so by December 20th all you’d have was this wooden skeleton with some balls on it. Now they sell a type of firs (Fraser fir), whose needles stick better, and halfway January you still have a green tree. Drawback is that the firs start at $67 for a tree. All this must be vastly interesting for you.

Anyway, we bought the tree at Exotica (strange name for a flower store. Wait till you hear the name of a local nut store; Enotica. Reminds me of the name of a whore house), transported it to the house, and decorated it in no less than an hour. And here’s the result.

Hard Rock Cafe

Liesbeth and Anne at the Hard Rock Cafe in Beirut. It was a non-official meeting of the CIM (Club of Irresponsible Mothers.) Our kids (6 in all) must have wrecked the place. They were glad when we finally left.
Anne and Wajih at the Hard Rock Cafe in Beirut. I am determined not to drink anymore until the end of December.

Sinterklaas in Beirut

Sinterklaas made a stop-over in Beirut before he is due to arrive in Holland on December 5th. Hana was not particularly amused by ‘the Sint’ although she did figure out pretty quickly that he had a huge bag with presents that he was handing out, so she was willing to be her apprehension aside and walk up to him to get that present.
Eddie, who had told me that he didn’t believe in Santa Claus anymore, surprised me by saying that the Sint had given him a present from Virgin in Spain. When I told him that I though he didn’t believe in Santa Claus, he replied “No, I don’t believe in the American one, that’s just a guy dressing up in a suit. But the Dutch one is real.” So much for being almost 12. He did notice that the Sint was rather young this year. And the Sint WAS rather young this year, couldn’t have been more that 30, and was obviously new at the job. And one of the black Pieten is in Adrian’s school, one grade above him! He didn’t notice. So much for the power of believing. If anyone wants to read more on this peculiar Dutch phenomenon; Check out the rest

Sinterklaas explained
In the fourth century St. Nicholas (in dutch called "Sinterklaas") was the bishop of Myra, Turkey. According to the legend, he saved his town from starvation. He is also said to have revived three dead children, and to have offered gifts of dowries to poor girls. Some sources say that he died on the sixth of December in 343. In 1087 his relics were taken to Bari in Italy. It is unclear why, according to the Dutch tradition, he comes from Spain. Possibly it has something to do with the fact that St. Nicholas was the patron of sailors. In the 17th century Holland was famous for its navigation. Maybe by contact with Spanish sailors this myth began. It could also explain why St. Nicholas has "zwarte (black) pieten" to help him because the Moors dominated Spain for several hundreds of years.
His legendary gifts of dowries to poor girls led to the custom of giving gifts to children on the eve of his feast day, 6 December. Together with his "pieten" he visits children to punish the evil ones and to reward the good ones. The worst punishment is to be taken to Spain in "zwarte piet's" bag out of which the good children get the sweets (called "pepernoten", "taai-taai", or "schuimpjes") and presents. A less radical punishment is to get the "roede" (rod) instead of presents. Nowadays there are not much evil children any more...
On the eve of his feast day St. Nicholas visits all children. After knocking on the door he gives them a bag full of presents (if they were good children). Early in the morning of 6 December, when he has visited everyone, he leaves and goes back silently to Spain, to come back next year
http://www-astro.physics.ox.ac.uk/~erik/sint/sint.html