Hope all is well with you guys! More wacky news from here.
VISA: IT'S EVERYWHERE I WANT TO BE
So the visa I received upon arriving has "One Month" written below it. Assuming this meant that I only had one month before I had to renew it (and said month was to arrive on Saturday), I went to General Security on Thursday to get it checked on. Normally, you just go to Syria for a day or two and get the visa renewed upon your return, but obviously that is a no-go right now. Some people told me that it actually was good for two months, but that sounds retarded and I didn't want to be at the mercy of some border control guy.
Of course, I've only heard horror stories of General Security - being stuck in lines for hours, going to 15 different people for papers, not getting anything accomplished, etc. - to the point where people have been led to compliment the American government bureaucracy. That is not a comparison that gives me confidence.
STILL, me and Bojan went out via cab to General Security on Thursday morning to see what was what. We even got extra "passport photos" made, which we got made at a print shop by a guy who took our picture with his iPhone and then cropped them to passport size. We search for the right building, talk to some security guys, find the right place, go through security check, wait in line, then finally hand over our passports - just to get a pass to go to the right floor, mind you.
Within 10 seconds, the security guy says, "Oh, this is good for two months. Don't worry."
Oh, I should've known, of course. One month means two months. Cue theme music for wacky Arab bureaucracy.
But this moment of chagrin was the least of my worries...
BARBAR-OUS DISEASE
So I met up with a friend from Vassar on Wednesday night and we hit up a photo exhibit here and chatted around. Afterwards, my hunger drove me to a local falafel stand that I frequent called Barbar. I get my falafel and munch away as I walk back home and go to bed.
Lo and behold, not long into the cab ride to General Security the next morning, I start getting insane gas pains. As in, danger Will Robinson gas pains. And by the time we leave General Security, I realize that a certain falafel sandwich has wreaked its maniacal blows upon my pampered, first world tummy.
So after a last cab ride back to AUB, whose only respite was an open window to let in the smoggy, hot air, I head straight to home without passing go and collecting $200 to inhale the tummy medicine I had brought for just such an occasion.
The next day I checked in with people at my office to let them know what was up. Of course, when I initially told each person about my situation, they would cut me off without me finishing by saying "You ate something bad? Was it from Barbar?"
Touche.
SKETCHY FLEA MARKET
Today I met up with my Vassar friend Katie again (along with Bojan) and went to Souq Al-Ahed (Sunday Market). It did not disappoint.
It actually reminded me a lot of the Birmingham flea market before it slowed down. Tons and tons of hardware stands, clothing stands, food stands, etc. etc., and everything was dirt-ass cheap. I immediately filled several quests of mine for household things without breaking $5. There was a guy selling nuts and dried fruit who danced while filling orders so we had to stop and get something. After I bought some almonds, he gave me a walnut and a dried apricot, telling me that it would give me strength and virility. I then asked if I could have a picture with me, him, and Katie, but he declined because he was engaged. This nonsensical answer was perhaps better than having a picture.
The coolest stand was a guy selling stamps and coins who spoke excellent English. Old Egyptian stamps and Syrian money from the French Mandate era mixed in with collections of medals from Saddam-era Iraq and service medals from wars with Israel. Utterly fascinating stuff that I hope to check in on again if I get to return.
We also spotted a stand selling animals and animal shops here are always super depressing. Animal rights aren't really a thing here, for the most part, so there were maybe a dozen different kinds of animals in smallish cages (monkeys, puppies, kittens, parrots, macaws, parakeets, and just about anything that is probably illegal). Bizarre.
LEBANESE SPITBALLS
Part of the flea market is under a highway overpass and when I looked up at the underside, I noticed a buncha things hanging from it. Upon closer inspection, I realized they were used tea bags that had been thrown at the bottom of the underpass and stuck on it, their little strings and tags dangling underneath. I immediately thought of my 4th grade bathroom, the ceiling of which was utterly coated in small, wadded balls of notebook paper strategically shot through cafeteria-stolen straws.
SYRIAN INTRIGUE/I GET SICK AGAIN
The interesting part about this market is that it's almost entirely run by Syrians, who are generally a much poorer lot than the Lebanese. Of course, with the conflict going on there, the market's especially heavy with Syrians right now.
Near the end of the market, we found a stand selling keychains. A bunch had names of prospective significant others, swathed in hearts and cupids, but the best were the political ones. Katie got a phenomenal one of Saddam (a before and after compilation: one side had him in a suit and fedora, the other in his scraggly foxhole beard) and I got one that was poorly photoshopped with the South Sudanese flag and its new president along with one showing scenes from a popular Syrian tv serial.
As we stood there, some guy walked up to us and said we should get the one with Bashar Assad and Syrian flag on it. We said no thanks and awkwardly laughed, since the guy's orchestrating a lot of the violence going on. Our visitor kept pressing the issue, though, and showed the wallpaper of his blackberry phone that had a big picture of Assad.
It started to get weird at this point, since the guy asked where we were from and I said America. He asked us about the situation there while Katie and I feigned ignorance and the shopkeeper politely told him that we were foreigners, we didn't know anything. Then he asked us about the "terrorists" being there, which is government-speak for the rebels, and though we kept trying to shrug him off he whipped out his phone to show us some video.
It was bright out so we couldn't see anything, so finally I took off my hat to shield the phone from the light. Almost immediately the picture came into view and there was a grainy video of perhaps the goriest footage I've ever seen in my life.
Katie, being a journalist, started badgering the guy about where the footage came from and how did he know that it was Syrian or by the rebels, etc., to which he replied that he was Syrian and found it on the internet so it was true, which is soundproof logic. She had evidently seen this video months ago and knew about it being of dubious origin (possibly Iraq from a few years ago?) while also reflecting that she'd seen so many videos of similar ilk in her reporting duties that they didn't affect her as much anymore.
Of course, I had pulled back the instant I saw what the video was, standing dazed and queasy for a second. I immediately wrapped up our purchase and got us scooting away while Katie filled me in on the conversation she'd had with the guy in the intervening moments, since I obviously hadn't paid any attention after a certain point.
Needless to say, being actively pestered by a regime supporter in a market in Beirut is about as tame as it gets in comparison to the actual conflict in Syria, but it drove home to me just how mind-boggling and brutal it can get. It's one thing to read the news, another to hear people's stories, and yet another to watch movies or documentaries on stuff like this, but having the whole episode of slaughter shoved in your face is unforgettable. Here's to hoping there isn't any residual haunting of my nightmares. Yech.
IT'S A REALLY, REALLY SMALL WORLD AFTER ALL
After our market trip, we headed to a transport hub here called Dawra to get Sri Lankan food (go figure, good Sri Lankan food here for migrant workers).
After our meal, we had about half of it left so we instructed the waiter to get take-out containers. We explained this several times, thinking we had been clear. Of course, he comes back after several minutes with an entirely new batch of food, packed away for take out. Paying double was an expected result, but at least I have food for a couple days.
On our way out, though, I spotted some a white couple that seemed familiar and I realized I had seen them from a couple pictures on a blog I had found while looking up the flea market. I stopped and asked them if this was, indeed, who they were - they confirmed and we chatted for a bit.
No more than 15 seconds later, once we got the girl's name we realized that she was, in fact, a good friend of one of the other interns at AUB, who had taken Arabic with her. Thinking I had made new friends, we discovered that they were already old friends, but of our friends...so I guess that's new friends, right? I'm not good at math.
WELL, that about does it. I put up some pictures on facebook so I hope they flesh out some of the stuff I'm doing (there's even one of the Sri Lankan place).
Hope to chat with you all on Skype soon! Love you lots!
VISA: IT'S EVERYWHERE I WANT TO BE
So the visa I received upon arriving has "One Month" written below it. Assuming this meant that I only had one month before I had to renew it (and said month was to arrive on Saturday), I went to General Security on Thursday to get it checked on. Normally, you just go to Syria for a day or two and get the visa renewed upon your return, but obviously that is a no-go right now. Some people told me that it actually was good for two months, but that sounds retarded and I didn't want to be at the mercy of some border control guy.
Of course, I've only heard horror stories of General Security - being stuck in lines for hours, going to 15 different people for papers, not getting anything accomplished, etc. - to the point where people have been led to compliment the American government bureaucracy. That is not a comparison that gives me confidence.
STILL, me and Bojan went out via cab to General Security on Thursday morning to see what was what. We even got extra "passport photos" made, which we got made at a print shop by a guy who took our picture with his iPhone and then cropped them to passport size. We search for the right building, talk to some security guys, find the right place, go through security check, wait in line, then finally hand over our passports - just to get a pass to go to the right floor, mind you.
Within 10 seconds, the security guy says, "Oh, this is good for two months. Don't worry."
Oh, I should've known, of course. One month means two months. Cue theme music for wacky Arab bureaucracy.
But this moment of chagrin was the least of my worries...
BARBAR-OUS DISEASE
So I met up with a friend from Vassar on Wednesday night and we hit up a photo exhibit here and chatted around. Afterwards, my hunger drove me to a local falafel stand that I frequent called Barbar. I get my falafel and munch away as I walk back home and go to bed.
Lo and behold, not long into the cab ride to General Security the next morning, I start getting insane gas pains. As in, danger Will Robinson gas pains. And by the time we leave General Security, I realize that a certain falafel sandwich has wreaked its maniacal blows upon my pampered, first world tummy.
So after a last cab ride back to AUB, whose only respite was an open window to let in the smoggy, hot air, I head straight to home without passing go and collecting $200 to inhale the tummy medicine I had brought for just such an occasion.
The next day I checked in with people at my office to let them know what was up. Of course, when I initially told each person about my situation, they would cut me off without me finishing by saying "You ate something bad? Was it from Barbar?"
Touche.
SKETCHY FLEA MARKET
Today I met up with my Vassar friend Katie again (along with Bojan) and went to Souq Al-Ahed (Sunday Market). It did not disappoint.
It actually reminded me a lot of the Birmingham flea market before it slowed down. Tons and tons of hardware stands, clothing stands, food stands, etc. etc., and everything was dirt-ass cheap. I immediately filled several quests of mine for household things without breaking $5. There was a guy selling nuts and dried fruit who danced while filling orders so we had to stop and get something. After I bought some almonds, he gave me a walnut and a dried apricot, telling me that it would give me strength and virility. I then asked if I could have a picture with me, him, and Katie, but he declined because he was engaged. This nonsensical answer was perhaps better than having a picture.
The coolest stand was a guy selling stamps and coins who spoke excellent English. Old Egyptian stamps and Syrian money from the French Mandate era mixed in with collections of medals from Saddam-era Iraq and service medals from wars with Israel. Utterly fascinating stuff that I hope to check in on again if I get to return.
We also spotted a stand selling animals and animal shops here are always super depressing. Animal rights aren't really a thing here, for the most part, so there were maybe a dozen different kinds of animals in smallish cages (monkeys, puppies, kittens, parrots, macaws, parakeets, and just about anything that is probably illegal). Bizarre.
LEBANESE SPITBALLS
Part of the flea market is under a highway overpass and when I looked up at the underside, I noticed a buncha things hanging from it. Upon closer inspection, I realized they were used tea bags that had been thrown at the bottom of the underpass and stuck on it, their little strings and tags dangling underneath. I immediately thought of my 4th grade bathroom, the ceiling of which was utterly coated in small, wadded balls of notebook paper strategically shot through cafeteria-stolen straws.
SYRIAN INTRIGUE/I GET SICK AGAIN
The interesting part about this market is that it's almost entirely run by Syrians, who are generally a much poorer lot than the Lebanese. Of course, with the conflict going on there, the market's especially heavy with Syrians right now.
Near the end of the market, we found a stand selling keychains. A bunch had names of prospective significant others, swathed in hearts and cupids, but the best were the political ones. Katie got a phenomenal one of Saddam (a before and after compilation: one side had him in a suit and fedora, the other in his scraggly foxhole beard) and I got one that was poorly photoshopped with the South Sudanese flag and its new president along with one showing scenes from a popular Syrian tv serial.
As we stood there, some guy walked up to us and said we should get the one with Bashar Assad and Syrian flag on it. We said no thanks and awkwardly laughed, since the guy's orchestrating a lot of the violence going on. Our visitor kept pressing the issue, though, and showed the wallpaper of his blackberry phone that had a big picture of Assad.
It started to get weird at this point, since the guy asked where we were from and I said America. He asked us about the situation there while Katie and I feigned ignorance and the shopkeeper politely told him that we were foreigners, we didn't know anything. Then he asked us about the "terrorists" being there, which is government-speak for the rebels, and though we kept trying to shrug him off he whipped out his phone to show us some video.
It was bright out so we couldn't see anything, so finally I took off my hat to shield the phone from the light. Almost immediately the picture came into view and there was a grainy video of perhaps the goriest footage I've ever seen in my life.
Katie, being a journalist, started badgering the guy about where the footage came from and how did he know that it was Syrian or by the rebels, etc., to which he replied that he was Syrian and found it on the internet so it was true, which is soundproof logic. She had evidently seen this video months ago and knew about it being of dubious origin (possibly Iraq from a few years ago?) while also reflecting that she'd seen so many videos of similar ilk in her reporting duties that they didn't affect her as much anymore.
Of course, I had pulled back the instant I saw what the video was, standing dazed and queasy for a second. I immediately wrapped up our purchase and got us scooting away while Katie filled me in on the conversation she'd had with the guy in the intervening moments, since I obviously hadn't paid any attention after a certain point.
Needless to say, being actively pestered by a regime supporter in a market in Beirut is about as tame as it gets in comparison to the actual conflict in Syria, but it drove home to me just how mind-boggling and brutal it can get. It's one thing to read the news, another to hear people's stories, and yet another to watch movies or documentaries on stuff like this, but having the whole episode of slaughter shoved in your face is unforgettable. Here's to hoping there isn't any residual haunting of my nightmares. Yech.
IT'S A REALLY, REALLY SMALL WORLD AFTER ALL
After our market trip, we headed to a transport hub here called Dawra to get Sri Lankan food (go figure, good Sri Lankan food here for migrant workers).
After our meal, we had about half of it left so we instructed the waiter to get take-out containers. We explained this several times, thinking we had been clear. Of course, he comes back after several minutes with an entirely new batch of food, packed away for take out. Paying double was an expected result, but at least I have food for a couple days.
On our way out, though, I spotted some a white couple that seemed familiar and I realized I had seen them from a couple pictures on a blog I had found while looking up the flea market. I stopped and asked them if this was, indeed, who they were - they confirmed and we chatted for a bit.
No more than 15 seconds later, once we got the girl's name we realized that she was, in fact, a good friend of one of the other interns at AUB, who had taken Arabic with her. Thinking I had made new friends, we discovered that they were already old friends, but of our friends...so I guess that's new friends, right? I'm not good at math.
WELL, that about does it. I put up some pictures on facebook so I hope they flesh out some of the stuff I'm doing (there's even one of the Sri Lankan place).
Hope to chat with you all on Skype soon! Love you lots!
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