Anyway, we barely made it to checking our luggage in and pass the customs. Jahd's aunt picked me and him up from the airport once we had landed, and we drove to his granny's house. After putting our stuff in the room, we embarked on our little Middle East tour, starting from "the clubbing capital of the Middle East" Beirut. Firstly, we went to a Syrian, low-key restaurant to have some dinner, and headed to this communist bar, where the walls and even the ceilings were covered with pictures of Ernesto Che Guevera and other prominent communist thinkers and leaders, along with some weapons--I saw three-- which all seemed like they were loaded kind of. It was really cool, especially because the people that run it were really hospitable, and warm and provided us with many different kinds of fruits and seeds etc. all on the house.
Ok, I am not going to go day by day, I will just try to talk about important things that I saw, witnessed, and experienced during the ten days I spent in Lebanon and Syria.
After walking around with Jahd for a long while, we decided that we were hungry, as we had not eaten anything practically speaking that whole day, and we decided to settle in the kebabji restaurant--the suffix "ji" is a Turkish suffix and it gives the meaning "someone who does ..." to the word that it is attached to-- right across from American University in Beirut, which is just beautiful, really, if you dont believe me here is a picture from there:
We went to see the famous cedar forest, not a forest really. I think, there might be 200 or at max 300 trees left. Because they are symbolic--remember the Lebanese flag-- we had to see them. And we had to drive through some nice valleys and a lot of scenic places. And there were a lot of jesuses and maryies in that little forest; they were in pain.
By the way I have pictures of all these places on my picasa account if you want see pictures of what I am talking about.
We went to a hamam--Turkish Bath-- in Tripoli. It was full of adventures. Some of our friends got violated while getting a massage, and some 40 year old men expressed their interest, openly and loudly, in younger guys. It was creepy, especially after I heard one specific story. Steph, do you hear me?Oh I just remembered that I was going to say this: there is a church in that little cedar forest. Well, I had to pee on its walls. God, I ask for forgiveness!
I finally decided to ask someone to take a picture of me with the rest of the gang that we were traveling with when we were watching Damascus being engulfed by the darkness slowly, from a hilltop, I think it is called Mount Om Kolthum, or something of this sort. But I felt unsatisfied, because I could not take a good picture of the darkness making love with the city. Even though I could not capture a very good picture of that vista I can easily assure you reader, that it was an aesthetic love-making.--There still are some pictures from that night in the album though--
I met a Kurd the first night, a close friend of a close friend of a close friend, seriously. He read one of his poems that he had written, the quality of it was as high as the quality of Cigerxwin's or Melaye Ceziri's poems--being disrespectful is not my intention-- And these two guys I just mentioned are like Shakespeares of the Kurdish literature. He said he has not published any of them yet, but might do something nice with them, once outside, and once he can translate them into English, Spanish, Italian, German and French all by himself. Mind you, other than German and French the guy did speak all the rest in addition to Arabic and Kurdish. I would hear some other random Kurds and Turks speak Kurdish and Turkish on the streets. It felt weird. Also there is this Persian Quarter in the old city. I really liked it. There are Shia mosques all around, everybody is speaking Persian--which sounds so pretty, I am sorry guys but prettier than Arabic-- women that are religious paint themselves with black garments all around, from the toe to the head. It is a very cosmopolitan city, if only they allowed everybody have their most basic human rights. Most Syrians, especially Arab Syrians, though, are very happy with their government surprisingly.
Damascus is a nice city. That is the conclusion.
Off we went to Aleppo, or Halab, or place of the sweets--as all of Syria is known to be--with a train that was clean, and eventless. There I took my favorite picture of the whole trip. It is really simple, but I really like it, a lot. Here it is. Also let me know what you think of it.
We went back to Beirut on that day, and I took a beautiful picture of no man's land in between the Syrian and Lebanese borders. It is forbidden. But to a man who is about to lose his mind anyway, that does not make much difference, to be completely honest.
We went to a gay bar in Beirut, It was a lot of fun, but ended with anger, kind of. Even though all of us are now over it. right Steph and Jahd?
One other thing, well two now, came to my mind right when I was about to finish this post. One is this: So the first time we went a club, it is called BO18, I was really really hungry and wanted to eat. But there was no food in the club, it was late, there wasn't even a close by restaurant because this place was kind of far away from the downtown. The club, by the way, is cool. It is basically a place underground but there are multiple entries and the roof can open, too, all in the middle of a big parking space, right next to a busy highway. So I asked everyone if they were hungry or if they would like to go buy something with me. Most of them were drunk by this time, and as a result no one wanted to come. So I started my adventure alone. This neighborhood by the way is the Armenian Quarter. I crossed the street and went into this dukkan, shop, that was still open. I asked them if there was any place nearby that I could buy any kind of food. They said there is not. So I was asking them what would be the easiest way getting to the nearest restaurant, when a transvestite dude told me that I should go with him. So I did. He took me through some back and narrow alleys of the neighborhood until we hit a main road at which point he told me that I should walk on this main road for about 7 minutes and I would see an open place where I could buy a sandwich. I had taken a second step when he asked me "Shu Esmaak?". I said: Xelef, and yours? He smiled at me, said his name, which my memory is failing me in remembering it now, and departed. I found the place, had my nice Lebanese sandwich and went back to the club after almost getting lost on the way back through those dark, and dwindling streets of the city.
The second thing is about how Beirut is promoting itself as the "clubbing capital of the Middle East", which I completely agree, that is if Turkey is not included. It is possible to see scars of the past Civil War(s) almost everywhere in Beirut. Still. Other than the new downtown area that has been completely rebuilt with the efforts of the Hariris and the government, which looks really elegant but kind of boring. Imagine a luxurious mall, but with a touch of fake historic stones and colours, that is downtown Beirut to you. But it is really gorgeous.
And here is a last picture from my trip. the ones in the picture are part of my extended family.
I just wish I was as free as they were. Because I am tired of this sullenness. It is blacking me!
good night and good luck
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