Wednesday, November 25, 2009

It's that time...

It's officially been a month, which means that it is high time to have a blog. I wish that I could promise coherent entries, reliably posted every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday and full of pithy observations about Lebanese society, but if you're reading this, you know that that is highly unlikely. I will instead promise to post as often as I can and to not descend into the "I ate this today" level. Oh, hell. Actually, I take it all back. I make no promises.

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving, and I will probably go to my friend Amal's house to eat tabbouleh and baba ganoush, just like the Pilgrims did. In my many years of missing holidays (actually only 3, thank you very much) I've found that it's easier to do something that's totally unholiday-like rather than trying for a feeble imitation. Adha (the major Druze celebration) is happening on Friday, so at least there's a little air of festivity. Granted, this air of festivity mostly takes the form of fireworks being set off from apartment balconies without ceasing...which, I suppose, is better than how they celebrate Adha (called Tabaski) in Senegal. I guess that fireworks are marginally less irritating than sheep.

Since this is a blog, I suppose that I should start with a top ten things that I've learned about Lebanon in the past month, in no particular order:

10. This is something that I kind of knew already, but everyone in Lebanon is incredibly welcoming. Everyone. If they know one word of English, it is "Welcome!" and they say it constantly. Within seconds of knowing someone, you nearly always have an invitation to drink coffee or pass by their house or to eat (see #9) and visit.

9. Everyone is defined by their religion/ethnic group. Again, I knew this before, but it's been reinforced over and over again. Only within the last several months have people been able to get their sect removed from their identity cards. The Chouf, where I live, is a bastion for the Druze, a tiny religious minority found in Lebanon, Syria, and Israel. The Druze split off from the Sunnis in the 12th century, and have a reputation for being somewhat secretive and closed to outsiders

8. The mustache is not a good way to identify people. Practically every man has a very prominent mustache--it's simply not a very distinctive feature.

7. Again, chalk this up under things I knew already, but the food is amazing. Good food is everywhere, and people are very proud of it: tabbouleh (the secret is not to use little to no bulger wheat and a good proportion of mint to parsley), freshly harvested olives, baba ganoush, capseh (a rice dish), lentils, manaqeesh, and countless unnamed dishes.

6. Related to numbers 7 and 10, people will feed you until cannot eat anymore, and even just a little bit more after that. After a long lunch at my friend Maha's house, and after my third avowal that not a single bite more could possibly pass my lips, she literally picked up a spoon and did "here comes the airplane" into my mouth.

5. There are absolutely no discernible traffic rules. I have yet to see any lanes painted on the roads, any evidence of seatbelt laws, any no-passing zones, any turn signals, or any stop signs. There are traffic lights only in Beirut, and people largely ignore them.

4. Lebanon has amazing levels of language proficiency. Everyone is at least bilingual in either Arabic and English or Arabic and French (standard education is done in either English or French), and many people are trilingual. A standard conversation will have elements of all three languages mixed in together.

3. Everyone will tell you how difficult Arabic is to learn within 3 minutes of meeting you. And it is. This is simple fact. That being said,

2. Everyone will be very gracious if you try and speak Arabic, even if you are in your "demented two-year-old phase of language acquisition in which you point to things, name them, and expect lavish amounts of praise. Also simple fact. And I'm not naming names here.

1. This seems like a terrible way to wrap up a top ten list, and this really is in no way the most important fact about Lebanon to me, but the internet is infuriatingly slow. One of the side effects of having your infrastructure regularly targeted by invading/occupying neighboring countries is, I suppose, underperforming internet speeds. We're talking 1997-era speeds for my home connection, when it works. Skype with video is sadly impossible and it also makes sending emails difficult, as I never know if my connection will last.


This is to in no way discourage you, my friends and family, from emailing me, just please be understanding if the reply takes a little while. Also: the postal service works! My address is c/o Sh. Sami Abilmona / Irfan Establishment / B.O. 04/2010/1503 / Simkanieh, Chouf / Lebanon


This is becoming a much longer post than I had intended, so in the meantime, I wish you an Adha Mubarak and Happy Thanksgiving--celebrate with turkey, sheep, and fireworks, and know that I wish dearly that I were with you!

2 comments:

  1. Sarah - I am so excited to follow your blog and your adventures in Lebanon. I have to say, I am SO JEALOUS, mostly because of the food. Lebanese food has topped my list of favorites for over 10 years. I am realy so happy you are keeping a blog despite the slow internet. I can relate from blogging from Kazakhstan. Off to read more xoxo Andrea (and Anelya)

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  2. Lebanese food definitely does not suck. I think that I could happily eat lebaneh, zaatar, and tabbouleh every day and be a happy camper. Oh, wait--I have, and I am! By the way, Anelya is absolutely darling, and it brings me so much joy to read about her (and you, too, of course--although now you are definitely "Anelya's mommy" in addition to being Andrea) these past months. So glad that you two are home!

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