My Trip to Lebanon: Gunshots and Celebrations

Note: These were written during my trip to Lebanon and so are not currently occurring. I wrote them each day during my trip on my computer because my internet accessibility was greatly restricted. They are each being posted on a different day. The time and date is usually mentioned at some point in the piece and you may notice changes in word tense because I alternate between what I’m doing as I type the blogpost with events that happened throughout the day. Although I went for family, I took the opportunity to blog my experiences mostly surrounding my discoveries of political, social and religious issues in the country.

Sunrise from my window (My picture)

I went to bed shortly after 5 am Saturday morning (just a few mins after I finished my last blog post). Jetlag still controlled my sleeping habits and I stayed up as the sun rose. I’d watch my second sunrise in Lebanon until all my three sisters’ alarms rang. They had a busy day to prepare for the wedding. As they dressed and left for their Salon appointments I began to dose into sleep. Finally I would get some rest before the long day ahead of me.

                Suddenly, a loud bang rang through the neighborhood. My head jerked out of sleep and my brother and I made eye contact; he asked me “Did you hear that?” before he slowly went back to sleep. We both knew it was a gunshot (my sister later told me she heard another one several weeks ago). Instantly I remembered the story my dad told me of violence in my diverse neighborhood when sectarian tensions were running high some years ago. I couldn’t go back to sleep because my bed was directly underneath a set of mammoth windows with curtains covering.

The shot seemed so close to the building that I wanted to see what was going on (without dying of course). I sat up in my bed and slowly peaked through the large curtains, pushing them open enough to allow an eye to look through. Peering to the tops of buildings first (sniper), I found nothing. Looking down to the street below, again nothing. It was clear I had waited too long to see anyone firing, but maybe that was a good thing. I stayed awake for two hours before I was able to fall back to sleep and get some rest for the long day ahead of me.

Late in the afternoon my brother and I decided to walk around the neighborhood searching for a male barber. I was guiding him around since the previous day, my sister and I had walked all over the place while buying some delicious Lebanese ice cream. Making our way up and down the hills and buildings, we were walking back through our own memories. Every other young man had pounds of gel in his hair while the old men sat outside on plastic chairs discussing the day ahead. We recognized so much from the stores we always used to buy from to the largest waste management company in the country, Sukleen. Walking on the street with taxis from the 60s and 70s and mopeds driven by teenagers brought back many a good time.

Much had also changed, as stores we once knew were closed now and at least 7 more buildings were being built around us. Our much treasured ocean view was now blocked by a new building which rose just 6 floors (ours was on the second floor). Neighborhood friends had grown up and moved on, or became so different I couldn’t relate to them anymore.

By nighttime we were back and prepared to leave. Everyone was dressed in formal wear: men in fresh and clean suits, ladies in beautiful night gowns (in typical Lebanese extravagant style). The wedding was in old fashioned castle and everything was profligate, from the dancers to the singing to the other festivities. I’d take this time to congratulate my sister and brother-in-law on their wedding and hope they have a great honeymoon (this happened at least a week ago but only got internet when I returned to the U.S.).

We returned home at 2:00 am. There wasn’t much today in relation to politics and sectarian disputes because today was a day of celebration; a day that began with a gunshot but ends with smiles and a thousand pictures worth one million words.

Sunday 6/26/2011 4:00 pm

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My Trip to Lebanon: Clouded Sunrise

Arriving Beirut Airport. (My photo)

Note: Here is Part 1.

After arriving at the horribly up-kept, technologically deficient, and extremely small Beirut Airport, we made our way to family who greeted us with hugs and kisses. Once all luggages was packed in the car we drove down the main highway out of the airport. I greeted the country with feelings of joy to be back but caution to memories that seemed a century old since the 6 years I’ve been gone. In return, Lebanon greeted me with the horribly strong smell of goat and sheep manure that lay in the fields across the highway; my brother and I laughed as it brought back the memories of good times.

We arrived home at around 2:00 am where I greeted waiting family. Over the next day (Friday 6/24/2011) we would have plenty of visits. The jetlag kept us up till 5 am, where I watched the sunrise over the country. I was hoping for a bright beginning to my first day back in Lebanon.

My first sunrise. (My Photo)

As friends and family came to visit, the conversation at each time, reverted back to the politics of the country as well as the region; unfortunately, here, religion is deeply embedded in politics.

I learned of the chaos and divisiveness that existed throughout and after the 2006 war and later battles between factions. During the time that we left for the US, sectarian fighting had broken out specifically where my neighborhood as groups of men attacked people from a certain religious group that they disliked. It’s horrifying to think that neighbors immediately become enemies after some leaders say the wrong things.

The conversation turned to Syria as people told us of how they think things are going great in our sister nation. Others in the conversation emphasized how strong pro-Bashar demonstrations were in the capital. As we listened to how positive life in Syria was, images of dying Syrians from videos on Youtube raced through my head; despite this, I decided not to interject and call Bullshit because I wanted to be an observer of the mindset and conversations in the country, without saying anything to skew the raw emotions and loyalties. I quickly discovered that such conversation is common among those that support Syrian policy in Lebanon; they need Syria to stay strong to support their own goals (whether they are right or wrong). It only seems natural that supporters point to pro-dictator demonstrations as they did in Libya, Egypt and Yemen.

I took this picture as the nation watched his speech (My photo)

  Conversation quickly changed when we heard that an important speech was going to be broadcast on TV.

I sat in our living room as the nation watched Al Sayyed Hassan Nasrallah, leader of Hezbollah – deemed as a terrorist organization by the U.S. and Israel- address the country about several spies caught within their ranks in line with the CIA and IDF. The leader announced that all three men confessed being paid by the CIA to gather information for them. Being more skeptical, I questioned the legitimacy of the claim; I was concerned that the announcement was just an effort to refresh support to fight an eternal enemy, until I realized that they had no vested interest in randomly making such an announcement. I was also reminded of the time when a relative told me that they had gotten a call by an automated system offering them 1 million dollars to be Israeli spies. It shouldn’t be a surprise that as enemies, Hezbollah, Israel and the US would have intelligence wars working underneath the tables.

As the baby-faced militant leader speaks, it becomes directly clear how much this man is loved and admired by millions but also greatly despised by others. He tries to build much needed unity by discussing the nation’s enemy: Israel.

(Translation): “It is clear why the Israel has done this. For the past 3 years Israel has become blind and weak when it comes to their intelligence. Because of this, it went to the CIA. A global network, the CIA could be relied on, and so, they went to a big organization to use it to get information.”

Although not close to the brink of collapse as a leader, Al Sayyed is playing on the fears of the Lebanese and Arabs to reassert his strength. This was echoed in Yemen, Jordan, Syria, Egypt, Tunisia, and Libya; the difference is that here, more than anywhere else outside Palestine, it is true. It is no secret that Israel wants this old bearded man dead as well as his organization; maintaining unity and trust amongst his ranks is extremely important.

I zoned out for the rest of his speech as I remembered previous comments by the militant leader showing his support of protesters throughout the Middle East, except interestingly enough, in Syria. It seems that no one is free of hypocrisy. The United States only supports democratic reforms when they must, Iran only seems to support it because the U.S. doesn’t, and even smaller leaders pick and choose which rebellions to consider legitimate and which are lead by “spies.”

Later that night I engaged the younger generation (my own) about the politics of the region. Here I found much more skepticism toward traditional religious loyalties although I have no doubt that there are hundreds of thousands of children being taught what to think and who to support rather than how to think and how to determine who to support.

As we discussed the Syrian uprisings, feelings were mixed on the subject. A few were worried of U.S./Israeli influence and benefits from a weaker Syria. To them, I reminded them that Al-Assad has been one of the greatest guarantees of border peace for Israel in the region; Israel doesn’t want him out. As for the US, the Obama administration was hoping to put out a hand to him to get him to move away from Iran, which explains their fatally late response to the 1000+ deaths already served by the regime; with such massive protests, the US had no choice but to support change.

Others stood wholeheartedly with the Syrians and their demands for freedom. They questioned whether fear of Israeli benefits was worth the self-evident human rights that should be guaranteed to all people, Syrians included. It was a point well made, but the conversation persisted.

In such a region there is so much that goes on behind the scenes. The three spies announced today had been in captivity for 3-5 months. There is far too much hidden for such young people to develop informed opinions on all the different issues in Lebanon and the region but, thankfully, it never seems to stop them.

It is Saturday, 6/25/2011 at 4:54 am and in 6 mins I will have spent exactly 24 hours since the sun rose beyond the distant hills. My first full day back in Lebanon has been enjoyable as I met with family and friends, yet the even people in the country seem as divided as ever on support for the freedom of their own brothers and sisters just a border away despite unanimous support for protesters in nations less invested in Lebanon. With sectarian divides still fresh, my initial hope for a bright day with the sunrise seems easily dashed aside. 

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My Trip to Lebanon: Disappointing Progress in Germany

Note: These were written during my trip to Lebanon and so arent actually occurring. I wrote them each day during my trip on my computer because my internet accessibility was greatly restricted. They are each being posted on a different day. The time and date is usually mentioned at some point in the piece and you may notice changes in word tense because I alternate between what I’m doing as I type the blogpost with events that happened throughout the day. Although I went for family, I took the opportunity to blog my experiences mostly surrounding my discoveries of political, social and religious issues in the country.


As my followers already know, I don’t usually discuss my personal life too much, however, I’m making an exception. Before I began my travel, my former college roommate mistakenly asked if I was traveling to Lebanon for my blog. I corrected him by saying that I was going for family, but he made me realize the trip would be a great opportunity to try to (briefly) reconnect with the country I grew up in as well as Arabs from the region and let my readers know about it; that is the purpose of this series. Through it all, I hope to make it a pleasant read as well.

This is the view that greeted me at Frankfurt. (My photo)

As I type this paragraph I’m sitting in the main airport in Frankfurt, Germany. I’ve been stuck here after arriving from Boston, USA for seven hours with two more to go and it JUST OCCURRED TO ME that I should type out my thoughts before I lose them.

Lufthansa flags with a German man. (My photo)

I flew on Lufthansa which is a decent airline that stops through Germany. The only regret I do have about using it is landing here, Frankfurt, where I have no internet. I’m here, typing on Microsoft Word after spending hours searching for a rumored Starbucks that offers free Wifi with a purchase of a cup of coffee. After, literally, 3 hours of misdirection by every attendant in the damn airport, we arrived at the Starbucks, only to find that the rumor was just that: a rumor; the waitress laughed.

Our gate had cots! (My photo)

                Frustrated, we returned back to our gate and sat there, searching for an outlet to plug our dying laptops, only to be reminded that, in fact, our US plugs don’t work on European outlets. Some way, somehow we mustered the strength to leave (note I’m wearing Loafers with no foot support!). We left our gate seats to purchase a “converter” (not its real name) so we can use the German outlets. We were guaranteed that if we left the gate we wouldn’t have to go through customs once more; upon returning we realized we were lied to ….again. (Bastards! It’s no wonder Germans have such a bad rap!) After standing in (what seemed to be) a longer line each time, I have finally found myself here, typing away with a nicely charged laptop while gazing at these massive airplanes prepare, arrive, and leave. Two more hours, breath.

                To pass the time I’ve decided to watch a movie. I whipped out my long overdue version of Repomen and watched as my movie was constantly interrupted by people wishing to use my toughly fought over German electric outlets. Two of those interrupters weren’t so sour of men. The first man, 5’9 dark in composition but bright in personality at the age of 35, came up and asked me directly if I was Arab. Fearing he was in line with the FBI, I began yelling out about how the Jews controlled him; I also declared my dominance over everyone else. All jokes aside, in response to his question, I told him I was and, as it turned out, so was he. It was refreshing to meet him and we discussed the uprisings throughout the region. He showed the same hope that all other Arabs I know have shown, and was traveling to Bahrain to visit family who had been injured from the government’s harsh crackdown. We exchanged pleasant conversation until his daughter started beating up his son.

                I returned to watching Jude Law gut people in his movie, until I was interrupted by another man, this time, far shorter in composition but just as friendly. He asked permission to use my outlet and after checking my fully charged laptop battery, I allowed him to use it (Making the world a better place, one outlet allowance at a time!). After discussing how frustrating no free wifi was in the airport, the conversation shifted to our travel itineraries. I told him I was traveling to Lebanon, and he responded with joy as he told me he was traveling back home to Tunisia. As with the last man, the conversation turned to the uprisings where we discussed corrupt politicians, the brutality of Ghaddafi and Al-Assad, and the power and potential of the Arab youth. It, again, reaffirmed my beliefs that, as Arabs, we were moving to more progressive governments but more importantly, more progressive ideas.

A change in mentality of Arabs wasn’t the only thing reaffirmed during the conversation. It also reminded me of the sad anti-Semitism that prevails in Arab societies and train of thought. As we were discussing the horrible crimes of Al-Assad and Ghaddafi, the second man said (translated):

“These dictators aren’t just on the same level of Jews, they are worse than Jews, they are devils.”  I can’t quite get a perfect translation on the last word, but you get the point. He was very seriously implying that Jews are just one notch less evil than the devil (or evil equivalent) on the Evil Scale.

The uprisings in the region have brought great change to so many people. Even if, as I predict, the economic situations of the nations like Egypt and Tunisia don’t change immediately, they will soon have the freedom to change their leadership accordingly; that is what the Syrians, Bahrainis, Yemenis, and Libyans are fighting for. Yet here we are, progressively pushing forward as we continue to stomp on the one of the most historically hated religious groups in the world. 


We must realize that as our hearts are inspired by the Arab youth, our minds must recognize that holding such hate against a people will always hold humanity back. I’m not saying that the policies of a nation that identifies as a Jewish one armed by a Jewish army are just (I have a draft post in the works), but I am saying that pointing our finger at others seems rather childish by now; blame isn’t needed, introspection is. I’m reminded of the hatred toward Jews as I sit here in Germany watching the sun hide behind the sparse yet thick clouds; let us not allow our thoughts to go down that path once again because one time is one too many.

Thursday 6/23/11 7:55 pm Frankfurt, Germany. Soon to be on route to Beirut, Lebanon. 

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