Feral House

 

If ever I win the lottery, I am going to buy myself a house. This feral house, (see picture above) to be specific. It takes up about half a city block in Beirut, and is abandoned, neglected and overgrown. Beirut (and Lebanon) has loads of feral houses, but it is a universal phenomenon. I had to photograph it in bits and pieces, and then Photoshop made this out of it, which I thought was quite appropriate.

 

It’s the former house of Takkidine el-Solh, a onetime prime minister, who, like so many, eventually settled abroad and died there. I assume it belongs to the el Solh family, as the last inhabitant was Takkidine el-Solh.

 I would first clean up the garden, trim the trees, and fix the wall from the inside. The outside wall I would keep as is, you couldn’t find a more fitting one. I would subdivide it in small studios, and give a studio to each one of my friends. Downstairs, we’d have a huge communal kitchen, with slouchy couches, a fire place, bookcases against the wall and one long and narrow wooden dining table with chairs that do not fit together, and no TV.

 

Unfortunately, it is not for sale; people like that do not need the money.  Besides, I would first need to win the lottery. And in order to do that, I will have to actually play in the lottery. My friends will have to wait.

On Past Civilizations and Marathons

Aregu warming up in front of the temple of Bachus, with the walls of the Great Court on the right.

 

Now that I highlighted a cultural difference, how about pointing out something on civilizations?
Last Sunday I drove to Baalbeck at 4:30 in the morning (best time of the day to drive a car in Lebanon; not a soul on the road) because the housekeeper, Aregu Sisay, was running in the First Half Marathon of Baalbeck that morning.  She had already gone up the day before and I was supposed to join her, but I got stuck on this boat, you see, so I had to drive up there early Sunday morning.
 

And off they went, 7 AM on a Sunday morning in Baalbeck

 

 I got there just in time to see the athletes warming up amidst an absolutely mind-boggling scene; 3,000 year old Roman ruins. Some 3,000 years ago, this town was a bustling hub in a network of trading routes. It must have been big and rich, how otherwise can you engage in a building project of this magnitude? The amount of workers, or slaves, involved in this must have been huge, and they all needed to be housed and fed. Farmers from all around must have been bringing in goods to feed the population of priests and worshipers. The stones and pillars they worked with are absolutely massive. Moving things of this weight without the use of machines is incredible. These people were able to coordinate and finance a project of these incredible dimensions.

 

It was a mixed event; men, women and handicapped all raced at the same time.

  

The Fun Runners also left at the same time. This made for a slightly chaotic start. It reminded me of running with the bulls in Pamplona.

 

And look what’s left? What a contrast between that civilization and our current one. Some 1700 years ago,  the Byzantine emperor Constantine closed the temple officially because his empire had changed religion. And from a region that was economically coherent and intellectually dynamic, we end up with a provincial little town, in the middle of pretty much nowhere, where the local police chief has a big belly, and we built ramshackle houses that won’t make it past the year 2050. From a once majestic metropolis to now; that’s a pretty big change.

 

The northern wall of the Great Court

When you look at the stone walls of the temples, our current civilization is no match for the previous ones. You could argue that we live in a civilization that has bypassed Baalbeck, and that the current one is much more advanced. Yet the town and region are as poor as the dirt they wallow in. Poverty is for me a sign of the demise of a civilization, and when you see the sharp contrast between what people were once capable of, and what they do now, then Baalback drew the short the stick.

 

Temple of Venus, in the middle of town



There were many speeches spoken after the marathon; everybody loves to give a speech in this place, in poetic classical Arabic, no matter that no one was listening, and the athletes waiting for the prize ceremony would rather have gone home and rest.

 

Had I been speaker, I would have  pointed out the interesting fact (I thought) that this marathon was taking place in a town that was once inspired by the very people that invented the marathon.

 

And the winner for the ladies is coming in

Unfortunately, every speaker reiterated ever more convulsively than the previous one on  how very much united we were as a people. The fact that you need to point that out so frequently however, is an indication of how very much we need unity, and how little there is at the moment.
 

 

Don't you love the look on that Chief of Police on the left?

A
nd so it was a sobering thought, to see these two civilizations side by side; one superior to the other. The old and quiet one in stone, the new one in concrete and empty words. And the housekeeper? Well, she won of course!

 

This picture reminded me of the Adventures of Tin Tin; "Aregu Sisay in Baalbeck"

She is getting a little anxious on how she is going to get all her victory cups back to Ethiopia; they take up a suitcase all by themselves. And the weight!! We hope someone at Ethiopian Airlines is going to be comprehensive.
 

More on Baalbeck here.

On Cultural Differences

A sail boat on the Mediterranean Sea

An interesting anthropological experiment took place this Saturday. It took place on a sail boat. 

Owning a boat in Lebanon is an expensive business. And the price of the boat is not the most expensive part of it. Due to a sharp imbalance between the number of mooring spaces and boats, the price to moor your boat is ridiculously high. All marinas on the coast around Beirut are full, and have waiting lists. As such, mooring fees are sky-high. Getting a place can cost you as much as the price of a small apartment, and then you still have your yearly rental fees, which can go as high as $2,000 per meter per year  in the more posh marinas. Therefore, many boat owners rent out their yachts in order to help out in the costs.

"Uh, where can I sit?"

So last Saturday, the owner of a sailing yacht gracefully rented his vessel to a few of my Dutch friends and their (mainly) Lebanese spouses.

 
But the boat was a lot (stress on ‘a lot’) smaller than we had anticipated, and so we were packed rather tightly. There was also no wind, and the engine stalled frequently.

 

"Where's the wind?"

Actually, we looked more like a bunch of north African refugees on a floating expedition in front of the coast of Italy, rather than the glamorous jet setters we had envisioned we’d look like.

But all this didn’t really matter, because we were among friends, the sun was shining (something you will always be thankful for when you’re a Dutch), the vessels didn’t sink and we had fun.

But the experience highlighted an interesting cultural difference between Dutch and Lebanese.  

Rather cramped

 You see, the Dutch are in general raised in rather modest financial conditions. Although the European countries have the reputation among the Lebanese as being ‘rich’ countries, this being ‘rich’ should not be translated as ‘living a luxurious life’. We tend to be frugal people who do not spend money frivolously on pleasures that are not tangible. Part of our Calvinistic heritage, I assume.

As such, being stuck for an entire day on a cramped sailboat that throttles along the coast at a snail pace, with no real comfortable place to sit down or lie, is no problem for a Dutch. Heck, we enjoy it.

Lebanon is a country that is infinitely poorer than Holland. Lebanon’s GNP in 2012 was 9,140$ versus $45,960  for Holland (source), and if you look at the Social Progress Index , we do even better. Holland features on the 4^th place, whereas Lebanon is somewhere down at the bottom; 83^rd (out of a total 126 countries ).

But for some reason, the Lebanese know how to live well. Spending over $150 on a day on the beach or a dinner on a weekday is more of a norm than an exception. You may argue that I am generalizing, but I have seen people who make half of what I make, spent $275 for a pair of summer sandals! I

 have never in my entire life spent $275 on a pair of shoes, let alone flimsy summer sandals.

Almost falling overboard

Give a Dutch the option of a speed boat ride on a Riva for $500 or a Seadoo Sportster for $100, and they will inevitable go for the Sportster. The Lebanese will take the Riva.

 

As such, the Lebanese contingency was not amused by our cramped quarters, the lack of soft and fluffy pillows, the uncomfortable seating arrangements, the excruciatingly slow cruising speed and the fact that our drinks had to be fished out of the cooler.

The coast line

The moment they could get ashore, they arranged for a cab ride back to Beirut, and left us, the hardy Dutch, on our mere wooden refugee boat, on the shores of Jbeil. “I like my comfort,” the Lebanese said, “Just because you paid for it, you are going to suffer all the way back to Beirut, 3 hours long?” And off they were.

And so we had this discussion: Would Dutch men do the same?  Apparently not, because the Dutch men stayed on board. And so did the Lebanese men who had lived in Holland.  What about your husband, I was asked?  Would he have abandoned ship? Well, my hubbie had already decided in advance - when he heard the number of participants and the length of the ship - not to join. You see, he is Lebanese, and he likes his comfort.

And it as getting colder . . .

The difference in culture was clear. We (the Dutch) had paid for our boat, and we were going to stay on our boat! Till the bitter end.  ‘Till the bitter end’ turned out to be pretty accurate. At 9:35 PM, in the dark and in the cold, we were still throttling along the Lebanese coats in search for our port. One of us had invited people for dinner at 9. A bit of a dilemma, as you can imagine.

. . .  and darker (still on that boat)

But I tell you: I’d do it again. 

Small World

The beaches south of Beirut (Jiyeh)

 

I’m in an upbeat mood. What did I notice today that I liked so much ? (still in the 100 days of happiness mode).

The fact that everyone knows everybody else. Not necessarily the whole town, but in general, Lebanese tend to grow up with their family and friends around them. From a very young age, cousins see each other on a much more frequent basis than let’s say in Holland. And the kids they grew up with at school and the neighborhood are still the same people they hang out with when they’re adults. I cannot count the times when I meet one of my husband’s friends, and it turns out they’ve known each other since they were like 12.

 

Like these guys. They look like really old friends

They sat in the surf, smoking cigars

Somehow there’s less mobility. When people move, they move to other countries, but otherwise, they kind of stay in the same neighborhoods. This may have to do with religious zoning (whether you like it or not, many neighborhoods are singe religions only), or with the fact that the war made moving around difficult, but there it is. Very often, when my son is hanging out with new friends, it turns out their father or mother knows his father from way back when, from school, from university, or from the beach.

These guys looked like family. They also sat in the surf, all 6 of them. Two of the ladies had their hair dyed the exact same pink

 



 

 

 

And I like that. It creates, as far as I am concerned, a sense of familiarity.  Other people may find it constraining, this small world feeling. Me? It makes me happy. I like small world.

The link to today? When you see Lebanese go to the beach, they do not go in small groups. No, they move in groups of at least 8, 9 10 people; all somehow connected to each other through family ties of friendships. There’s no such thing as a nuclear family here in the European sense; cousins and twice removed cousins and mothers of sisters in-law who are married to your brother in-law, and friends that hang around the house often; it’s all family here.

My nuclear family

 

Take it to the Roof Tops

 

I could continue on this happiness theme a little longer. #things that make me happy in Lebanon. As you will have noticed, I haven’t quite figured out the function of hashtags, and refuse to do so as well. What made me happy today is seeing my neighbors making use of their rooftop.

Beirut, as any big city, has no green spaces. People have no gardens either, because everyone lives in apartments.  In the old days (i.e. pre civil war), the rooftop of a building was usually built slightly different that the floors below it, making it a little paradise with ample space for greenery, but modern construction has annihilated that idea.

The rooftops these days are reserved for water tanks and satellite dishes, unfortunately. My neighborhood, with plenty of pre-civil war buildings, still holds on to the old rooftop idea.

 

 

 

And this evening I saw that my neighbors have made proper use of it. Instead of sitting on your own, indoors, in your apartment, watching Barcelona vs Atletico Madrid on a small TV screen, why not watch it outdoors, with your friends, on a big screen?

Now that’s the spirit. Games are supposed to be watched with friends, not on your own. And that made me happy. Even though I couldn’t see the score. I could hear it though.

 

 

May 24 we have a Champions League play off (I am told, my knowledge of soccer equals my knowledge of hashtags): Real Madrid versus Atletico Madrid.  And then the FIFA cups starts. I think.

All of Beirut should be using its rooftops. So take it to the roof tops, people!

#100 Days of Happiness



Happiness: the pool to yourself

 

 

A friend is working on a 100 days of happiness project.  For 100 days in a row, you have to take a picture of what makes you happy each day. According to the project:

 

"We live in times when super-busy schedules have become something to boast about. While the speed of life increases, there is less and less time to enjoy the moment that you are in. The ability to appreciate the moment, the environment and yourself in it, is the base for the bridge towards long term happiness of any human being.

71% of people tried to complete this challenge, but failed quoting lack of time as the main reason. these people simply did not have time to be happy. Do you?”

 

More happiness: the beach to yourself

 

 

I was thinking of taking up the challenge, but decided against it. Not because I do not have time, but I do not have internet access for the 100 consecutive days coming up. May and June are fine, but come July and August, and I’ll be trampling around Europe, and are off the grid from time to time. As such, I might start the project  in September.

 

And even more happiness: All the chairs to yourself

 

The thought behind it is quite simple. If you can think of one think that does make you happy, you will be a happier person. It’s all about positive energy.

Actually, there’s a whole school of thought that suggest that giving creates happiness, not just at the receiving end, but also to the person that gives. There’s an awesome Thai video about that circulating around the web.

 

Happiness: Sharing it with your friends

 

But there are so many simple things that make me happy, and it is rarely related to money. Last Sunday, I went to the beach, and it was empty. EMPTY! Totally empty.  Have you ever gotten to a beach resort like the ones you see in glossy magazines, and you have the place to yourself? The surface of the pool was like a mirror because no one was swimming in it. None of the chairs were occupied. No umbrellas were set up yet. It was absolutely lovely. And I was thinking, “Today, happiness is an empty beach”.

 

The happiest thing of all? The entire day it stayed pretty much empty too!

 

So here’s a warm-up for my 100 days of happiness project.

Beirut By Car

Two weeks ago, I had two accidents in two days. The first one wasn’t my fault; I got cut off by a nasty little old witch who – upon cutting me so horrendously that she hit my car with her left side – came storming out of her vehicle while screaming whether I knew how to drive, nasty body language and all. In Holland we’d say “a fishmonger’s wife”.

The second accident was my fault. I was looking at some flowers while the lady in front of me stopped for a speed bump. She had a Volvo and I’ve got a plastified American.

She had a little dent. I had to be towed down to Beirut.

 

 

 

 

And I had visions of those Russian Disaster Videos on Youtube, that show compilation after compilation of horrific crashes, ridiculous accident and bizarre driving behavior. Had I had it on tape, I would have so put this lady who cut me off on Youtube and publically vilified her. I mean, you cut me off; it happens. You hit my car; it happens. But you come out of the car and aggress and accuse me? I don’t think so.

So when I was in Holland, I saw in a drugstore a mini dashboard camera for a ridiculously cheap price. I didn’t think it was really going to work, but it was worth the try. And does it work? It works!!! And it is fun. Saturday I had my first test run (see down) and here’s the result. I put it on 8x speed, because I don’t think you can bear watching me drive through Beirut for 30 minutes, but I am telling you, there’s more to come!! And I am not the only one, there’s lots of people doing it.

Innocence

 A bride paraded around in a suburb of Beirut

I have never really seen this in Holland; the parading around of a bride. It is quite common here in Lebanon. If I were an anthropologist, I could probably attach some ancient custom to it. Maybe the tradition can be traced back to ancient times, when obtaining a bride was not that easy. Prospective wives had to be ‘stolen’ from the opposite camp, and thus – when you finally got one -  were to be paraded around town as a proof of victory? I am not sure. Maybe I am looking at it too negatively from the man’s point of view. It could be that it is related to the fact that women in this region are not really (in general) considered full members of society until they are mothers? So maybe this is her first step towards that goal, and she is showing everyone that she is on her way?  Maybe ‘full members of society’ is too harsh, but until you are married and with kids, people will always ask you “so when are you going to get married?”, and when you are married, “so when are you going to have children?” And if you get only girls, you still might get a remark or two about when you are going to get a boy. I am sure some readers will say “that’s how it used to be, it is no longer like that.” No, not in the affluent classes. That is true. But religion does not matter either among the affluent classes. But what percentage of his country is affluent? Not more than 10%, is my guess.  

 

 

How does she keep that veil on?

 Anyway, I ran into this happy bride last week. To me this picture also displays innocence. Girls in this country, and probably all over the world, still are raised in a Cinderella mode, i.e. once you have married your prince, all your troubles are over and you will live happily ever after. What a thought. It is probably one of the hardest jobs in the universe, I’d say. Getting married is easy, it is staying married that is the tough part. I am in my 21^st year of marriage, and I can say that the past 10 years have been smooth sailing. You do the math. That’s not a bad score.  And my husband is a nice guy. Most people don’t make it that far. And I have a fantastic set of in-laws!  That’s an added bonus, I hear, from those who have experienced otherwise. And so when I see a happy bride on her wedding day, with a smile that shows that all her troubles are over, it makes me think of innocence. How little does she know.  Wisdom will come with age.

 

 

Windy?

What do you mean, windy?

 Windy, you say? Beirut airport registers 25 knots, with wind gusts up to 28 knots. That’s 6 on the scale of Beaufort. Is that much? It is considered a ‘strong breeze’ according to this table.  Some coastal service will issue a ‘small craft warning’; i.e. not good to go sailing now. You don’t say; I almost blew off the Corniche. I love the wind, although back home, wind like this was a kill, especially if you had to bike against it.

 

It is odd how the weather has changed in the course of three days. Sunday was wind still and gorgeously Sunny,  Monday saw hazy and overcast skies and it was hotter than hot, and now the temperature is dropping but I’ve got to nail down my balcony furniture.
I guess the pillows on my bench and balcony chairs have already flown to Jbeil by now. As I write this, I see the white plastic chairs slide by my window. Bye bye chairs. Oh dear, I think I've got some laundry still out on the line. That probably spread all over the neighborhood.  We’re looking at rain and thunderstorms for Wednesday.  4 different days, 4 different weathers. You can’t say it is boring.

Beaufort 6

Our housekeeper is walking on clouds, now that she just heard she won the equivalent of half a year’s salary in half an hour (not exactly, it was 41:06, and there’s a lot more work involved than just that one race, but you get the magnitude of the number). My daughter is happy because she just realized she’s got only 6 more weeks of school. My son’s happy because he’s going to study abroad (wait till he figures out the budget he’s got to live on! A budget perfectly normal for any Dutch student, but probably not fitting the lifestyle he intends to continue over there. He’ll be coming home from a ‘cold country fair’, as we say in Dutch) . And I am happy because I am finally catching up with the immense pile of work I had. And that’s it for today.

Just noticed we've got bike lanes on the Corniche.  Or are those for serious runners? Motor cycles maybe? Or MP's who believe they should not have to wait in traffic like the rest of us mere mortals. (everything is possible)

Change is Possible

Aregu Sisay Abbateh ran (and won) for all the maids, the nannies and the cleaning ladies, because she can

 

It’s been a busy week, no time to write, and now that I finally sit, my bed is calling me. We’ll start with this morning. The second Women’s Race 10 K was run this morning in downtown Beirut. The race was in the spirit of ‘Run Forward’, and all about the empowerment for women.

Aregu Sisay Abbate, my housekeeper ran the 10K. And she won. Last year she was third, but her trainer has been after her, and she improved her personal time with some 6 minutes, thus making it to the finish line in 41:06.  Talking about empowerment. She ran for all the nannies, and housemaids, and cleaning ladies, showing that change is possible.  

 

Last minute race tactics discussion with the trainer

The Lebanese women are a powerful bunch in general, just look at George Clooney. It was a Lebanese woman that finally got him, after some 50 years, to abandon his bachelor status. But their situation is by no means a rosy one, and the status of migrant women in this country is even worse. You can read on a monthly basis – if not more often – of housemaids that hang themselves or jump off the balcony because their lives are no longer bearable. But slowly more and more attention is drawn to their plight, such as the Migrant Task Force, and the Stop Kafala Campaign.  The Kafala is the sponsorship system through which most migrant workers enter Lebanon. I, for instance, have a housekeeper from Ethiopia. I am her sponsor, and by law that pretty much gives me all rights over her life. And the few rights that she does have, are not really enforced at all. It is basically up to the employer to ensure whether her two year work period in Lebanon is going to be a decent one, or whether she will be treated as a slave.

 

Her (female) team mates and trainer

And so I think it is fitting that a housekeeper won the 10K Women’s Race in downtown Beirut.  Change is possible.