These conversations never cease to amuse/intrigue me. Tonight, over dinner, we are discussing our weekend plans.
It’s a long weekend, since Sunday are the parliamentary elections, and we here in Lebanon always need an extra day to pour oil on troubled waters, so Monday’s off as well. Some schools were off today too. The times are uncertain, as this is an important election. Are we to follows the Saudis & the Americans, or will we go local and run after Syria and Iran?Yet Another Sunset (at 5:49 P.M. indeed)
Saturday is deemed ‘safe’, and so we plan to do something outside the house. Sunday is doubtful. Shall we go on a road trip, or should we stay around the house, just in case? We suspect Sunday will be quiet; if things are going to stir up, it is likely going to be on Monday. The tension has been screwed to the sticking point, and is likely going to be released once – on Monday night – the results are out. Each member of the family argues his or her case, and we talk as if we have insider’s knowledge of the intricate emotions that motivate a person to go onto the street and shoot other people.
“Well”, argues hubbie, “if they are going to fight like last May, we’re going to the mountain house.”
The other family members are not enthusiastic about that idea. Nothing ever happens in the mountains; we want to be around where the action is. It was after all, explains my son, a great experience, the street fighting of last May.
I cannot argue with that. Needless to say we did not live through 15 years of civil war, and were lying at some beach in France during the 2006 summer war.
But we will not move around the house anymore like before, I announce. After I discovered all those bullet holes in the façade of my apartment, it is clear that my downstairs neighbors – who I disdainfully described as lemmings barricading themselves in the hallway - did have a point.
“Fine”, says hubbie, “if you want to spend your time hauled up like rats in a windowless hallway, instead of sitting in the sun on your terrace in the mountains, be my guest.”
I mention that we have Wi-Fi, and so we can take our laptops to the hallways.
“Cool,” says my son, “then I can Facebook and MSN all day.”
And I wonder, while overlooking the Mediterranean sunset, if people in other countries have weird conversations like this? Where will you spend your election weekend?