Will Play for Tips

Hamra, Lebanon - June 2010

A pleasant sight and sound near AUH, where all we see all day are abused children begging you to give them money or buy lottery tickets. 

I have to sing for me to live

a job for me is out of reach

so come on by and hear a tune

I will sing for a bit of tips

Sidewalk in Hamra

Hamra, Lebanon - June 2010

This is a response to "Sidewalk in Achrafieh" Posted on Blog Baladi a few days a go. I said I'd have a pic of sidewalks in Hamra for comparison... well here's what I was talking about...

Try negotiating the parked vehicles and avoiding the garbage juices on this lovely piece of Hamra property... Square footage pricing? Let's not mention that...

Stay tuned for sidewalks with construction material and bulldozers... Coming soon!

Embarrassing Incident Turns Into Funny Encounter

There are few, very few, situations that are more embarrassing than having your fly break open while attempting to answer nature's multiple calls in a public restroom. Because what usually follows such accidents is you having to spend the rest of the day wondering how obvious it is, who's looking, and, if it's your first time, thinking to yourself "wow, the breeze, it's real!!" - especially if you're stranded like I was. Well that's what was going on in my mind on tuesday, anyway. At the Saab Medical Library at AUB, I was relieving myself in one of the stalls. And then it happened. It happened because I was too stubborn and somehow put too much force and - I'll spare the details, if you don't mind - I ended up hearing the sound. And then I knew... I thought "uh oh!"

More intriguing cab rides...

It's not everyday that I get to go around Beirut in a cab. In fact I've gotten so accustomed to driving my own car that all of the chaos surrounding our notorious public transport system had evaded my memory. When you have your own car, you just forget about the adventure that it is to get a cab driver to drive you from point A to point B, and all that's in between.

... Until your car stays at the dealership workshop for 4 days for repairs and maintenance (And yes I see the trend, thank you).

I got a call from the guys at the garage asking me to come and pick up my pride and joy, ready after a long absence.

The trip from AUH to the Sin el Fil workshop was uneventful. But it was the return trip that was all worth while! I picked up my car and parked it in the Galaxy mall parking lot (Coming back to Hamra or Bliss and searching for a safe parking spot is a no-no after 10:00 AM), and took a serial 2 cabs back to AUH. My car parked in a safe underground parking away from direct sunlight, I was happy, smiling, and satisfied with the workshop's job well done.

(1) - Galaxy - Tayyouneh

I hailed the first cab and in the ceremonial "la wein?" (where to?) conversation, I said "Tayyouneh". The cab driver laughed and appeared annoyed, and whined "ma ele jlede ya zalame halla2 kenet bel tayyouneh!" ("Oh come on man! I can't be bothered, I was just there for cryin out loud!") Surprised, I smiled and said "OK... it's your call, I'm not making you do it!", thinking to myself: "is this for real??". The guy finally told me he'd drive me to the end of the street for free and go home for lunch. On the way he found 2 more clients going to tayyouneh, so he looked at me and happily congratulated me saying "wejjak kheir ya habibe!" (something like good karma). I ended up reaching my waypoint and the driver ended up making an extra LBP 6,000 before lunch.

(2) - Tayyouneh - Hamra

The second cab driver was less of a pleasant ride. As I leaned toward the pasenger side window and said "Hamra", I noticed that he was staring at my lips. It turned out he was deaf, and had impaired speech, probably as a result of his deafness. I couldn't help but overhear the conversation between him and the passenger who sat in the front next to him. The story had it that he had lost his hearing in an explosion sometime during his childhood. He had burn scars on what was the better part of his body to show for it. And then, in an all-but-subtle segue, he went on to talk about how he had just lost his 20 year-old brother to a Heroin overdose. And before I could wrap my head around that, he looks at me in his rear view mirror and mumbled words I couldn't make out, but he made it clear by acting out a drug user's needle prick. The passenger then told me the whole story he had heard. The driver was trying to figure out how to get his two other brothers off the drugs before it was too late. What a shame.

After this humbling reminder of my pre- driver's license days, I got to AUH on time, with lots to think about.

Good karma? Bad karma? I couldn't tell anymore.

A Late Rite of Passage

Walking on Bliss street had never been such a complicated task, what with all the 10-year old –or less- mendicants and lottery ticket ‘agents’ or shoe cleaners. For the longest time I felt annoyance at the heavy task of brushing off these pesky and persistent solicitors that seemed to be after nothing other than your money. The annoyance not circling around the money itself, but about the ethics and principles of discouraging the presence of alms-askers and the associated child abuse and whatnot; let me not digress and wander off into these treacherous discussions for now.

So one of my tricky walks along the famous street, while I was looking for that after lunch cup of coffee, got me to Epi D’Or. -Don’t let the name “Epi D’Or” fool you. Fancy name for a place that’s affectionately and more commonly called “Abou Naji”, the little store across the street from the AUB main gate-. Waiting for my coffee, I get elbow-tugged outside by an as-yet unknown figure who turned out to be one of Bliss’ seasoned shoe cleaners

. “Here we go”, I thought to myself. But then, all thought processes angled at getting rid of that annoyance were instantly stopped by the cleaner’s marketing skills… “Eza ma 3ajabak ma tedfa3 wala lira!” Translation “If you don’t like my work don’t pay a dime!”

Said in a convincing and confident tone, these words made me think ok what the hell? My shoes were dirty, hadn’t been cleaned in a while and a good buff would do no harm! So I told the guy to do a good job and he got to work. I have not seen hands move so fast. The sound of swishing as his run down piece of tissue carved through the air and onto the now polished leather told the tale of a shoe cleaning veteran with years of training!

All done, shoes shining, and face smiling as M. took a few snapshots of the event, I was thinking about the going rate on a premium job like this! So I thought 3,000 LBP. M. frowned in disagreement and so I gave him 5,000 LBP.

In retrospect, seeing how his face lit up as he tugged on that bill and all the good wishes for prosperity and long life I got at that time, I know I overpaid! But I would do it again and pay the same price!

But hey. An honest living, a job well done, make me rethink my stance on the good shoe cleaners out there! This is one rite of shoe-cleaning passage not to be soon forgotten!

Cab Ride of the Year... In the Hamra Traffic

Over heard or made to hear...

On the way to pick up my car from the workshop where it had been for some maintenance...

Cab driver picks up phone, dials a number, and puts it to his ear. The short of a one and a half minute conversation: "Eh hayete yalla khallaset liom, jeye 3al beit la nodhar ma3 el wled" Translation "Hello honey I'm almost done for the day. I'll be home soon and we can take the kids out."

Cab driver hangs up.

*5 seconds pass*

Cab driver picks up phone, dials [what is obviously] a different number, and puts it to his ear. The short of a 3-minute conversation: "Eh hayete. Layke ma rah e2dar shoufik liom mdahhar marte w wlede. Wlek *Interrupted* Wlek shou bou rasik ma 3am tefhame ya mara?!! Ana ma3 marte ou3a tehkine ente. ANA behkike shou fhemte>!!>? Bshoufik boukra khalas boukra fhame ba2a!!"

Translation "Hello honey. Listen I can't see you today, I have to take out the wife and kids. I hav...*interrupted*... I ... What the hell is wrong with you woman?? Can't you understand?? I'm with my wife and kids tonight. Whatever you do don't call me. I will call YOU, understand!!? I'll see you tomorrow!"

Cab driver hangs up, looks at me with an arrogant smile, and says "Kif baddak tlahhi2 neswen? kif? Wehde w tnen w tlete, w ba3dein??

Translation "How can I keep up with the women? how? One, two, three women, and then what??

Help me decide whether this is funny, or outrageous, disgusting, and sleazy.

I could not believe my ears.

Yesterday, the day it all went wrong...

Have you ever felt like a stone surrounded by glass? Like you couldn't make a move without something or everything shattering and crumbling down in a deafening rumble and screaming racket? Minutes or seconds later, you look back: nothing more than a hole in the ground, where once all the great plans you had just built up seconds -or years- ago stood tall. Nothing left... Be it an hour, a day, or an entire lifetime, actions and their consequences are the same. Well at least they act the same. With a little hindsight on things that have happened in my life as far back as 15 years ago, or as recently as yesterday, I realize how strong and steady of a truth it is that when you make decisions, life starts moving so fast that it's not like you're moving through it anymore. It just starts happening to you.
It's strange to realize that this holds true at all scales... Whether it's your career choice, or that crush you decide to finaly do something about after so much hesitation. You just make the slightest move and it puts in motion some restless unstoppable mechanism, like thousands of cogwheels all spinning, each at its own speed, but all equally inexorable in their relentless thundering stride toward that common end point, like an army marching to the Valkyrie.

Here we go. I didn't know I was on one of my late night ramblings again... I didn't get the memo! I'm rambling again. It must be the melancholy found in the resignation to a few concequences of a choice made in the past, no matter how distant, with a certain goal in the future, no matter how remote.

One Gets to Thinking...

Hey it's been a while! Been a long couple of weeks in the fast lane. That's the worst when you realize that all this time was supposed to be cooling off time... Things are a bit calmer in academic life, ergo you have more time for yourself, your blog, you know, the usual free time stuff... But no, I don't know why, but things have been different lately. I don't mean to sound like a broken record, but time is just flying away, and I've been realizing that more and more acutely lately... And, apparently, it's not because of studies and workloads. I don't like this...
So I've been trying to muster some stuff to blather about on here a couple of times over the past few days... Struggled with a bad case of blogger's block I guess. That is, until I found myself alone in a borrowed apartment, and there's nothing like that to get the ideas flowing...
So it's a cool small flat in Hamra, and it belongs to a very close family friend, C., who is away on vacation. C., knowing how much I struggle with the daily commute, the daily parking hassle/expenses, kindly and generously offered to lend me her place for a few days. Much appreciated. Previously a skeptic, I now know and understand the blessing that it is to have a place close to where one works/studies. You can wake up an hour later than usual and come home an hour earlier. You can come home for lunch, for a midday shower if you feel too sticky in the summer heat, it's just amazing how different and easier everything seems to be.
The first time I walked into C.'s apartment, I loved the colors, the black leather couches, the rugs, and the mixture of European and Middle Eastern influence in the choice of furniture and wall decoration. Look at one wall, you see an artisan mirror with Arabic calligraphy. On another, a beautiful Cézanne. In the living room, beautiful copper ware on a traditional wooden table seems to match perfectly with the modern tiling.
C. is a French immigrant, working in Lebanon as a French teacher in a prominant school. Her culture and background are vividly depicted in her choice of furniture, books, and art. When I asked M., she said it was obvious that whoever lived here was a foreigner. So many Eastern articles just screams it I guess... But C. has found the perfect balance between these and leather couches, modern flooring and colorful curtains and lighting. I love this place. C., Merci Beaucoup de ta générosité :)

So here I am, wasting more of my time, typing away on a soft couch, soft rock playing in the background, as I ponder what tomorrow and the days after that hold. The studies, the family's finances, the lovelife and whatnot, one watered-down glass of whine at a time... I need to live alone again.