No roads lead to Janne

When I got a GPS from hubbie, the idea was that the thing would show me the way around Lebanon. It appears that it is going to be the other way around.

Maria on a rock (near Laasa)

Today I wanted to go to Janne (34° 04’51.43”N & 35° 49’47.62”E), a pretty much deserted hamlet on the valley floor of the Ibrahim River, surrounded by high mountains. There are three houses, some dogs, a few goats, and a little mosque. These days it has Hezbollah flags on the electricity poles. Last time I was there they were Amal flags. On the other bank of the river spot there is a little church with a bell; everyone has staked its claim.

The road to Janne (from Balhoss)

Main road in Janne

'Downtown' Janne

Crossing the Ibrahim River in Janne

There are no shops, no traffic, no people, and the only sound is the running of the Ibrahim river. The weather has been unusual mild; spring weather almost, and the snow has pretty much melted in the mountains. This usually doesn’t happen until end of March.

The Ibrahim River (Nahr Ibrahim) running through Janne

I wanted to go to Janne to see how the flood waters would be.

Nahr Ibrahim

Well, it is good that I still remember how I last got there, because my GPS was oblivious of its existence. Actually, it knew the village was there, but not how to get there. According to the machine there were no roads leading there. It kept sending me in all kinds of directions, all dead ends, but no road to Janne.

You are nowhere

I was constantly in the green; in the middle of nowhere, no roads, no villages, nothing. But I know you can get to Janne by car, because I’ve been there by car.

The 'new' road, leading from Janne to Laasa

There is a road coming from Balhoss, and a relatively new one coming in from Laasa, although that is not really a road, but more of a path. Wouldn’t advise it if you have a regular car. The AAA isn’t going to be able to help you there in case you break down; the mobile phone network doesn’t reach there.

Stratigraphy (In my next life I am going to be a geologist)

And so I had to teach my GPS how to get there. “I’ll figure it out on the map when I get home,” I though, but maps don’t help either. Apparently the roads to Janne, although definitely older than 5 years, are not mapped. Google Earth clearly shows them, especially the one from Lassa to Janne.

But the maps and GPS in Lebanon don’t think there is a road to Janne.

Obama

Not much happening here. Not much to say, just playing around. You can Obaminize yourself here. This guy has become a cult idol without doing much so far. I hope he can live up to it. He says he can.
Will it be any better for us out here in the Middle East? Let's keep our fingers crossed. it couldn't get any worse anyway, could it?

If (part 2)

Received by mail today:

No, Jesus would be Lebanese because

a) he thinks his mom is a virgin

b) his mom thinks he's god.

And I think I will leave the discussion at that.

If . . .

Heard at work today:

"If Jesus had a passport,

he'd be Palestinian."

Culture Jolt

I never experienced culture shock during my almost two decades in Lebanon. But every now and then you hear or see things that sort of jolt you, take you by surprise, and remind you of the difference in culture between Lebanon and Holland.

So I’m standing at the fabric store, trying to choose fabric for my daughter’s room. I ask the salesman for ‘happy’ designs.
But the man is showing me one middle aged designs after another. Dark and gloomy.

“No, no,” I say, “it has to be happy, you know. Bright and fresh.”
“It’s January, Madam, everyone is depressed,” he replies, “but I’ll try.”
And he continues showing me fabrics that would not look out of place in an old people’s home.
“No, it has to be cheerful! Happy, you know?”
“What is it for?”
“I am redoing my daughter’s room at home.”
“Well, how about she comes over and chooses for herself?” he sighs.
“She can’t. She’s a bit small.”

“Oh,” he says, “I thought she was 22 or so.”

And that’s where the jolt came. There would be definitely something wrong with that sentence in Holland.

Why on earth would a 22 year old woman still live at home with her parents? The only reason would be that there would be either a physical or a mental handicap that disables her to live on her own. Otherwise, no sane woman at the ripe age of 22 would still live with her parents.

Definitely not if she has a mom who is redesigning her room FOR her.

Peaceful

It seems as if winter has come and gone again, I thought this afternoon as I walked home from work over the Corniche. It is ‘zonder jassen weer’ which translates (from Dutch) into weather so mild you don’t need to wear a coat. I am waiting for another storm, because this isn’t good for skiing. While walking, I passed by these fishermen playing cards by the seaside

“Can I make a picture,” I asked?
“Only if you join us.”

“Not today” I replied, although it was very tempting. I still have a dog to walk, grocery shopping to do, kids to feed, work to prepare, a letter to mail, a phone to fix and a husband to remind of our anniversary. Busy day.

But look how absolutely relaxed they are, sitting by the seaside, playing cards. If that is not peaceful, I don’t know what is. And H? Thank you for lending me your camera, because I didn’t have one on me today. But can you please not always put your camera on the lowest resolution? Look at what a crummy result that produces.

A Well Kept Secret

In our search for appropriate rollerblade practice areas in Beirut, a rather child-unfriendly city, H. and I came upon this very well-kept-secret place, right in the heart of Beirut. It is so secret, I bet most Beirutis don’t even know of it. That is because it is not public. It is closed to the public, we were the ONLY people there! I kid you not. It is absolute prime stuff for any roller-blader; it is along the sea in downtown, and has smooth concrete. Not a soul in sight. Absolutely deserted, and totally smooth, which is rollerblader heaven. What am I talking about? The marine works of the Beirut Waterfront District. This two-level 1.3 kilometer promenade is absolutely stunning. It may have helped that we had the place to ourselves, sort of like a private promenade. It is on the other side of the former garbage dump, Normandy, which has become a landfill. Eventually it will be opened to the public, but the project is not finished yet.

According to the web site it is a 'defense structure'
Submerged reef as first defense line extending 100 m seawards along the full extent of the Corniche-80 reinforced concrete caissons, each 17.5 m wide, 27.75 m long and 10.5 m high, as second defense line. The superstructure provides two-level promenades over 1.3 km. Backfilling behind them provides a stabilizing bond and a third promenade, 5.5 m above sea level. Design features: seafront construction below 5.5 m allows sea views from the city center; public access right down to the beach; three-level promenade over the caissons.

You may wonder how I stumbled upon that prime promenade. ‘Wasta’, of course. I am not telling you how, because I kind of like it that I have this 1.3 kilometer long seaside promenade to myself. The project is not due until 2024. I reckon that by that time – with this fantastic practicing space - H. should be an Olympic rollerblader. She's got the pose already. When going home, I wanted to take this picture of a plane coming in over Beirut. When I downloaded it, I saw it also has a plane going out. Wow! Am I good or what!

Talking about ‘wasta’; look what I found on the topic.

‘In the opinion poll on wasta conducted by the Arab Archives Institute back in May 2000 to acknowledge the fundamental problems related to Wasta and the society’s views about it, around 87 per cent of respondents stressed the need to eradicate Wasta because it was one form of corruption, but simultaneously more than 90 per cent believed they would be using it.’ (Source).

You bet ya I am using it. Pier and all.

You Must Not Marry a Muslim

One moment you complain that nothing is happening these days, next thing you know, we (well, not me, but someone in Lebanon), fires rockets into Israel. How’s that for a diversion?

But out of fear that I might forget (onset of age and all that), or that the times may be too turbulent to talk about trivial stuff like this, I’d like to share a conversation I had yesterday.

Three Dutch women on the slopes of Feraya (unveiled, I might add)

“I have always told my daughters; You must not marry a muslim,” a friendly lady told me in the ski lift in the mountains above Beirut.

You hear some interesting snippets about this society in a ski lift. You get into a chair lift with a total stranger, and for a good 9 minutes, before you reach the mountain top, you exchange information. You learn lots of stuff about life in this place; it is a bit like the cab driver that journalists often use in order to get an idea of what plays in society.

A 'maglouta' (mix), as they call it in Lebanon.

This picture contains one sunni - greek orthodox kid, a sunni - roman catholic and a shia-protestant product).

As a foreigner, I somehow do not seem to pose a threat to people, and they gladly share their strongest misconceptions of this society, admitting that – although they are very much aware of the fact that these are misconceptions – they will hold on to these misconceptions for the moment, until times will change. Whenever that may be.

And therefore, yesterday, between a conversation about life in Dubai for a Lebanese (small businesses are doing fine, it’s the big multi-nationals that suffer) and banking in Beirut (Audi and Mawaret will cash your dollar checks for free, all other banks charge you), I had a remarkable conversation with a christian woman about raising girls.

Two 'mixed' kids getting off the ski-lift; The snow was crispy and the slopes were empty; it doesn't get any better than that

In Holland, the term ‘christian lady’ would refer to a woman that is strongly religious, and someone who will find a link to the bible in just about any sentence she utters. Something like a Jehova Witness or a born-again christian. In Lebanon, it just means someone who is born as a christian.

No lines for the ski lift! You know how much a lift ticket costs in Lebanon? 26,000 LBP ($17.32 or 12.62 euros) for 4 hours of skiing!. Yes, eat your heart out.

Anyway, the lady was an avid skier and a grandmother at the same time, by no means a simple feat. She had traveled extensively, spoke perfectly French and English, and was obviously well educated.

It started off with the usual questions: Did I like it in Lebanon? Was I working at the embassy? Did I live here? Did I have children? Was I married to a Lebanese? And where was he from? What was his family name? And that’s when we got going.

“But how come you do not wear a veil?” she asked surprised.

The Dutch community in Lebanon, some 75 women in all, is married into all the religious sects, but none (that I know of) wear a veil. I must say, in my part of town, the veil is not that much of an issue. Most of the people I know are in mixed marriages, and those muslims that have a partner of the same religion, never really discuss religion. They’ll fast at Ramadan, avoid pork if possible, but that is about it. And those with veil are the same. It’s a non-issue really. Most muslims in my neighborhood even put up a Christmas tree.

A Dutchie in action

Of course, you have the non-hand shakers, but the way they go about it is often charming and sometimes apologetic, but never provocative. I heard on an American TV show the other day that a supermarket chain in Tennessee was engaged in a labor dispute with their muslim check-out girls because they refused to touch pork products and alcohol that came over the counter. That of course made it a bit awkward to the customer, and impossible to work for the supermarket.Can you imagine anything like this every happening in Beirut? No way.

Feraya-Mzaar, 55 km from Beirut

“But he does not want you to wear a veil?” she said.

Even those Dutch married into the religions that we these days associate with chadors, burkas and the like, will laugh at the suggestion. The last time I heard of someone forced to wear a veil was a lady married to a Saudi man. The fact I led a pretty identical lifer to hers, and that I seemed to be a relatively modern/emancipated woman, free to do what I liked, and where I went, was an eye opener to her.

Moon over the mountains

“You know, we know each other, I mean, we live together, but we do not really know each other," said the lady. "Muslims are different than us. When my daughters went to university, they came home and they would tell me ‘but mom, the muslims are exactly like us!’ But I have always told my daughters; You must not marry a muslim. I could never accept that. “

And what if he were like my husband? I asked her.

“Yes, but we do not meet these muslims,” she replied.

She agreed that it was almost too silly for words, and that her ideas on ‘the other religion’ were all based on misconceptions. We laughed a great deal about it. But at the end of the ski lift, when we went our own ways and wished each other a good day, she added; “I know it is all true, but why bother? We are happy where we are. I am sure they are too. It’s easier to stay with your own kind.”

There is no moral to this story. I am not making a judgment. Just a conversation I wanted to share with you. I know they have them on the ‘other side’ as well.

The Corniche

Not much happening these days here. The eyes of the world are on our southern neighbors and the people of Gaza. So some very local, and trivial, news.

H. got herself a pair of rollerblades from cousin O. and so now we must rollerblade. Beirut is a pretty big city, with very little space for kids. But the Corniche in West Beirut is the one place where you can rollerblade your heart out.

The word corniche comes from the French route à corniche or road on a ledge. The word corniche typically refers to a road on the side of a cliff or mountain, with the ground rising on one side of the road and falling away on the other.The word also, in the Arabic language, refers, in general, to a headland formed at land's end, which describes a most remote geographical border of a mainland by a water line, with a natural corner, usually, or a cliff. In Lebanon and Egypt, the word typically describes a waterfront promenade usually paralleled by a main road, such as the renowned, Corniche Beirut. (source)

And so she rolled,

and rolled,

and rolled some more.

When night had fallen, she finally decided it had been enough. Time to go home.

Some Things Never Change

Holland, 16th century
Ice Landscape

painting by Hendrick Avercamp (1585 -1634)

(source)

Holland, 19th century
A Winter Landscape With Figures On A Frozen Waterway

painting by Jan Jacob Coenraad Spohler (1837-1923) (source.)

Holland, 21st century
A Frozen River Landscape

picture by AP photographer (04-04-09)

(source)

There aren't many things I miss about Holland. The drop maybe, but I have a reasonably steady supply line set up. But this (see up) may be the other thing.

More Snow

Qanaat Bakish

I haven’t worked for almost two weeks now.

It’s not because of me, but due to the numerous religions we have in this place. We just had the regular Christmas holiday, and now the Armenian, or orthodox, Christmas is coming up. Then we had the islamic New Year, the secular New Year, and now we’ve got the shia Ashoura coming up. We're celebrating around the clock. Pity we don’t have that many jews left here, otherwise we could throw in Hannuka as well. And in between, we do some work.

Compare that to the public holidays in Holland.

And so we hang out in the snow. The ski slopes were fantastic yesterday; crispy and empty. Ski slopes of Feraya.
What can I say; it’s the misery of having an older brother. The pleasure of pushing your younger sister face-down in the snow is one that is just too good to pass up on. Can you see him laughing in the back?