Sunday

The predication was rain, and so ‘tout Beyrouth’ stayed down in the city, leaving us with beautifully sunny and empty slopes. Why does anyone listen to the weather report?

 There’s not much going in this household these days; pretty much a reflection of the rest of the country. When you watch TV and you see all these full-scale revolutions going on in other parts of the Arab world, there’s this faint pang of jealousy; how come they get to be the first item on CNN? That’s our domain!

We met some cross-country skiers on the mountain top; while we slide down, they struggle their way up.

After a few decades (okay, only 2) in Beirut, you become a bit of an adrenaline junkie. Long periods of stability are often associated (at least by me) with boredom. My colleagues display an equal increase of anxiety over extended calmness in the country, but for a different reason; they associate it with an increased possibility of an ‘event’, the Lebanese euphemism for trouble. After all, after sunshine comes rain. 

 Ski buddies

But I dare say if we manage to get through a cabinet crisis with just a few tires burning, we are maybe getting used to dealing with our problems in slightly more ‘civilized’ ways. Which is a pity, because I thrive on chaos. I should go out into the county more, discover things, hang out in places, but work prohibits me on one hand, and the snow limits me on the other hand. There’s only one more month in the season; it would be a waste to let that just pass by. But I do miss exploring. Maybe in March again.

Lebanese/Dutch Ski Patrol.My daughter is an avid fan of the snow. Not. Can you guess which one she is? One of my friends equated the look on my daughter’s face it with her face when she had to go to church every Sunday when she was young. Yep, I remember that look too!