The Rains Have Come

Well, the rain came. On Friday at 5 PM, I could see it rolling in. Let no one complain about not enough water; what was supposed to fall the past two months fell this weekend. How about not complaining at all? If you live in a good Lebanese house, like I do, you’ve probably got water coming in from all sides. The windows, the ceilings, the balcony doors, you name it. But hey, you guys wanted water; now you’ve got water.

Rain on the road

And I was driving in it, all the way down to Naqoura. I think I may be in the market for a little amphibian vehicle.
Naqoura is a small village in the southern-most tip of Lebanon; Three kilometers more south, and I would have been in Israel. Actually, when I reached Naqoura, it was pitch dark, raining and thundering, and I couldn’t see a thing. Electricity was out, so no street lights. The place I was supposed to be was somewhere in the middle of the banana plantations. And suddenly, you drive around a bend, and there’s this entire village in front of you, completely lit. It was clearly a big town, and Naqoura is just a hole in the wall, so you know you’re looking right at an Israeli town.

I think I may be in the market for a little amphibian vehicle.

It’s bizarre how close you can get when we’re literally worlds apart. At that point you’re closer to Tel Aviv then you are to Beirut (102 kilometers), but I doubt I’ll ever be able to drive there in my life time.

Coastline in Naqoura

Naqoura is in the former security zone, and as such not accessible to non-Lebanese, accept with permission from the Lebanese army. What’s Naqoura like? I couldn’t tell. I arrived in the dark, stayed between the banana plantations, and left in the pouring rain, so I can’t help you much, but I hear it’s beautiful. A pristine coastline and no coastal development.

I went there to celebrate the birthday of one of our Dutchies; she became 11 (I think). Her mom had organized a disco-party for the entire classroom, but had failed to realize that this is – after all – the month of Ashoura. Things are done a little different in the south. And during Ashoura, one does NOT party. So only the one other christian child in the classroom showed up with his parents. But soon the adults took over the dance floor, and that was the end of the children’s birthday. Kids were delegated to a room with a TV, and disco from the 90’s came on. Oh? The 80’s, you say? Could be, I don’t pay to such trivial details.

We had wicked fun though

The hotel we stayed in hadn’t really opened yet; they’re opening in May. So the generator and the hot water weren’t connected. We found that out the next morning, as everyone was text-messaging each other. ‘Do you have hot water?’ The kids all wanted to stay. The grown-up all wanted to go home. “But what are we going to do in Beirut?” the children asked. “Taking a shower,” the parents answered in unison.  And that was the story about my weekend in Naqoura. We are planning to all come back again somewhere in May, when the weather is better.