I finally landed in Beirut last night, after a 20+ hour journey
from SF through Paris to here. It's the longest and farthest I've ever
traveled.
M picked me up at the airport, where I breezed through customs
(no questions, even). We decided to ditch the rental car idea and take a cab
into town. (We can hire a car for day trips if needed.)
I wasn't able to
see to much of the city on the way over, as it was already twilight. But I'd
gotten an amazing view from the plane as we were landing, skimming over the
water along the coastline, the mountains in the distance. And on a more sober
note, there were also numerous abandoned/semi-destroyed buildings visible, too,
a reminder of the troubles in the not-so-distant past.
M lives in a small
apartment building in the Hamra district, which she says has been mostly rebuilt
since the war that ended in 1990. And there are tall, new buildings everywhere:
banks, shops and commercial and residential high-rises.
After dropping
off my bags at her place and resting for a bit, we go out to a local bar, du
Prague, for drinks and some food. The place is cozy, with small, low tables and
stools, art on the walls and a mix of American classic rock and Lebanese music
blasting from the stereo. But my rumpled, jet-lagged self feels like a total
schlub among these hip, pretty Beirutis. Apparently most locals like to go out
and dress up most nights each week, and the place is packed at 10:30pm on a
Tuesday.
A plate of shrimp in a sauce with tomatoes, plus fried potatoes
and a baguette, along with a carafe of wine runs us only around $15. And here,
like most places in Beirut, will gladly accept American dollars. We pay and go
back to her apt where sleep finally catches up with me -- after almost 30
straight hours of being awake!
Today I'm on my own for a bit while M is
off doing some work related to her studies. We got the most delicious
breakfast, street food: fresh, hot Lebanese bread with olive oil and spices,
rolled up with cucumber, tomatoes and pickles, all for around 30 cents each!
Then I walked around in the midday heat and sun before this Seattlite started to
melt.
I'm now in an air-conditioned cafe, drinking iced coffee and
occasionally using my weak high school French to talk to some of the people
here. (Hierarchy of languages here: Arabic, then French, then English.) Oui, il
n'y a personne avec moi -- assetez vous ici. Or yeah, you can take the seat
next to me.
Anyway, time to check out what is supposed to be the best
record store in town, La CD-Theque. Then get more sunscreen. Hopefully my phone will save this properly so it can upload later when I'm at a proper connection...
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