Barely a country and a lesson never learnt

Driving calmly in my car today, I was thinking about the famous stupid statement by the former pope about Lebanon that is being echoed in almost every official document here, stating that "Lebanon is more than a country, it is a message". The Lebanese, so in love with vagueness and vague statements about their country, like "Lebanon is a cedar", or "Lebanon is too small to be divided and too big to be swollen", or "Lebanon is... is... is... more than words can say...it is very big", as a famous singer once said, etc. etc. etc. examples are innumerable. So I was thinking about the pope who said that Lebanon, barely a country, is more than a country, when I pass by the famous Holiday Inn. I look at the huge holes in almost every square meter of the building in every single floor, and I could imagine the mortars firing on real human beings inside not so many years ago, but before I was born. And I thought that in wars (maybe strictly Lebanese wars) people survive by mistake. They don’t die by mistake. That's when I remembered that I have heard somewhere before a similar idea. Only now I know where; Sami Hawwat once said it "I live for lack of death".

Eography

Finally, someone acknowledges the beauty of this blog's name. Diana wrote: "awal shi (first) i like the name.. second i knew there would be a photo of ali somewhere... third it's got interesting stuff!".
Did I ever tell you where eography comes from? First, the name is my creation (copyrighted as well). Second, "Informally, an ography is a field of study or academic discipline ending in the suffix -ography. The word ography is therefore a back-formation from the names of these disciplines. Such words are formed from Greek or Latin roots with the terminal -graphy derived from the Greek verb γραφειν (graphein), to write. The word ography is thus misleading as the 'o' is actually part of the word stem that receives the -graphy ending.". Third, based of this definition, maybe Egraphy would have made more sense with the "e" standing for "electronic". However, for aesthetic purposes, the misleading suffix is hereby used.

I Like You

To like someone is usually the lesser state of to love someone. Yet, when you love someone, to like him (still) becomes the higher state.

Of Mice and Men

"I seen hundreds of men come by on the road an’ on the ranches, with their bindles on their back an’ that same damn thing in their heads . . . every damn one of ’em’s got a little piece of land in his head. An’ never a God damn one of ’em ever gets it. Just like heaven. Ever’body wants a little piece of lan’. I read plenty of books out here. Nobody never gets to heaven, and nobody gets no land." John Steinbeck

Out of nowhere

A good massage has to have a sexual touch.

The Crossroad of Love and death

The first thing you realize when you fall in love is that the one you love is ephemeral. For some reason you think you are not. The first thing that comes to your mind when the one you love falls out are the rivers of tears shed on your death bed.

Now somewhere

Now somewhere there is a lady positioning a gun on her forehead
And another pulling the trigger
Now somewhere there is six year old boy wetting his bed
And a 60 year old
Now somewhere there is a delinquent driving full speed on a highway
And a valley waiting to swallow
Now somewhere there is a mother and a last push and a first cry
and a father in the hallway
Now somewhere there is an apple, red, ripe, and full
And a starving African in the desert
Now somewhere there is a rapist looking, wanting, and lusting
And a boy in the corner
Now somewhere there is a rope and a man’s neck waiting to embrace
And an audience
Now somewhere there is sand on a shore and two lovers
And more
Now somewhere there is someone watching them all in silence and boredom
And stretching his legs

More than a couch

Every single couple I knew including newlyweds have told of at least one time where the husband had to sleep on the couch, the same couch they happily bought together and fantasized about its uses and romantically had wine and sex on it on the first day. Why doesn't a wife sleep on the couch some men would ask.

The God of Small Things

If reading is the bread for the soul, then this book is its best bakery. "They broke the love laws. That lay down who should be loved. And how. And how much" she writes. I wasn't reading a book, I was rather remembering. The wordplay Arundhathi Roy often used in the book very cleverly narrated through the eyes and mind of a child, or more specifically the twin souls Rahel and Estha, awoke the child in me. I was dazzled by her ability to still remember and tell a story with the same feelings of a kid without losing the poetic touch. A breathtaking story beautifully told in the sad and happy parts. Once again, one of those books that make you understand the complications of the human nature and remind you of how cruel the human can be and how soft his soul.

Intimate Prophecy

There are things I believe in that are not purely logical and that have no scientific ground (although some would argue that they do). Forget about Osho, or the silly "Secret" book, or the million theories on energy, I believe that:
1- If I wish and when I decide, my guardian angel would visit someone (I want) in his dreams and would ask him to do something, and he will (This applies strictly and solely to me)
2- Whatever harm (intentional or not) you do to someone, will happen to you. One day, when it happens, you will know why it happened and you will remember the person you harmed. vividly (This applies to all)
3- Positive attracts positive. Negative attracts negative (hell with my Physics teacher)
4- Attraction, evaporation, and melting, are chemistry not physics

Hamra... to be continued...

Hamra, I believe is not a word that refers to a place, rather to a phenomenon. A friend of mine who hangs out in Ashrafiyeh, Kaslik, Jounieh, Monot and Gemaizeh from time to time (for its proximity to West Beirut, I guess), was telling me that he went yesterday to Hamra for a change. "I like diversity," he said, "but this is too much." He described wittygraphically a lady who was sitting on the next table: her nails painted four months ago had grown leaving "des marque en haut", as he put it. "I dont mind hippy, but there were spilled oil tâches on her shirt. Her boots, yes winter boots, smell. Bon, une saleté"
I laughed but it seriously made me think. The reasons why I love Hamra are exactly the same ones why I hate it because Hamra is different yes, but Hamra is no exception to the Lebanon psyche of exaggeration and ranking obsessions (As As’ad Abou Khalil graciously summarized it). A hippy in Hamra is the hippi-est, a leftist in hamra is a Mao, a drinker in Hamra is a Homer (Simpson), a philosopher in Hamra is an Einstein-looking, a beauty in Hamra is a dazzling beauty, and sex in Hamra is talked about loud as loud as can be, that's it, as openly as can be, as blatantly as can be. Talked about. Full stop.

eyes of an Iraqi refugee

Ready to love? ready to sin? ready to kill?

Unspoken Thoughts

Often you are influenced, touched, impressed, or inspired by someone else's spoken ideas. That's because at one point they were your own but you never put them in words.

Al-Qaeda dont chew

Unfortunately, there's one group that could solve Yemen's khat problem. The angry puritans of al-Qaeda don't touch the stuff.
http://www.time.com/time/magazine/article/0,9171,1926015,00.html

Lebanese restaurant

Regardless of any patriotism, the best restaurant here is a Lebanese restaurant called Al Diwan. Oh, and I had a mankoushe. This is how it is called although it doesn't taste like one. It just reminded me of the mankoushe taste.

Human trafficking

I had all sorts of weird things happening to me in Yemen but this is probably the funniest, probably not the safest. I took a taxi and suddenly the driver starts telling me that he works in trafficking to Saudi Arabia, "Human trafficking" he explained and added "I never traffic Qat or drugs, God forbids, only humans!". Then he told me how he does it and then I realized after a while that he is actually promoting his work. He probably thought that I would like to be trafficked to Saudi Arabia as well. That would be interesting actually, among all things I never thought I will ever end up doing. And this is how it goes: I pay 90,000 Yemeni Riyal, which is 450 USD and the guy will take me from Sanna and drop me just few meters away from the legal border crossing with Saudi Arabia up north. Then we run on foot for half an hour once we get the signal by phone from the guy's collaborator on the other side of the border who would have paid 250 USD to silence a Saudi guard. Then trafficked men all dress up in women's Burqu' could peacefully go anywhere in Saudi Arabia. He even told me that this is the safest job ever and that he is doing it for a good cause; Trafficking Yemenis looking to work in Saudi Arabia. Some of them even come back this way for their vacation. He seriously offered to take me there.
On the other hand, I met a really nice Yemeni taxi driver who listens to fairouz all the time, doesn't chew Qat, very quiet and peaceful in his car, and drives slowly; and I only care because I know there are other Yemenis like him.

Guns... Real Guns

For the first time in my life, I held a real gun in my hand. I was terrified when I saw it. It all happened when a guy, an educated and famous person here in Yemen, told me that he is a leader of a tribe, a big one and a dangerous one, as he put it. He was laughing. Other guys with us in the car said that they all have weapons at home, one of them named bazoukas, machinery guns, and other weapons, I can't name. Then this guy takes out the gun from under his seat. I was terrified and asked him to keep it away. I asked if it is loaded and he was positive. Yemenis are crazy people, just watching them drive and getting with them in their cars makes you think that they are suicidal. They are totally hypnotized by Qat and lose all common sense. They say that every new born Yemeni gets 3 weapons as a gift right after he is born, which means that weapons in Yemen are three times its total population.

Nostalgia

Sometimes I feel that I belong to the world and other times I feel that I only belong to that small space between his elbow and his shoulder (he would probably prefer that I say biceps, but that would be much less poetic!)

Anonymous

I am so annoyed that people don’t leave their signature on their comments. But appreciated anyway.

The Veil

Somehow, I got to like the veil, I mean, one way of wearing it whereby it only covers half the hair and goes down the neck, the Iranian way. It is stylish. I am gonna miss it.

Time to go home

I need to go to the Gym. Today I started running in the small space of my appartment like a psycho and I felt I am in a psychic ward! It is amazing the things you do when you are alone. It is amazing how creative you turn to be and how productive! but there are times when you suddenly realize that you turned into a machine and you try to act stupid, as stupid as you can be!

The Captain and the silicon girl

I took a flight today from Hudaidah to Sanaa. As we had to stop for 20 minutes at the Aden airport, I asked the flight attendant if I can get out for a minute to smoke. He said he will ask the captain. I followed him to the captain's cabin (not the hamra pub of course), when he turned to tell me that the captain refused my request, so I come forward and say, Captain, won't you make an exception? This is when the captain turned towards me and said, only if I go with you (mmmmmm, i just craved for a cigarette, for god's sake!). So we went outside, walked a little and had a cigarette. When I was back, a female flight attendant, half veiled with red lipsticks on her silicon lips, who was smiling to me just a minute before when she knew I am Lebanese (don't know why) and who was so nice to me throughout the flight, frowned at me and in her eyes I saw a plan for murdering me. The Captain is a good looking Mexican guy and I must have caused her unintentional pain. But still, I had a little evil laugh inside me. Blindness!

Qatoholic

I would like to claim the copyright for the word "Qatoholic" or "Khatoholic" or any other spelling for the word meaning someone who is addicted to Qat or Khat. I didn't find the word on Google!

A hidden message

I love technology. At least I know that when I am back in Beirut, I won't have to talk for a month about Yemen, Harad, and the camp! I also know who loves it even more for the same reason.

Babbling

I am leaving again to haradh tomorrow early morning. I have to wake up at 4:00 a.m. to take an internal flight to hudaidah airport and wait there for two hours before a driver picks me up to Haradh in a two hour drive. I am already exhausted and I have no energy at all left to do anything. I have reached my breaking point and I keep meeting new people, interesting people, inviting me to dinners, parties, and drinks, and I have no time to go. It is a real shame. Sometimes, the price for success is just too high. I just hope that the plane does not crash like the latest Yemenia because then I don’t know if I can even talk about a price!
And I keep receiving those verbal congrats which never materialize into real action. There are hugs I used to have that are worth millions of this nonsense.

The market in Harad (Al Mazraq) - South Saáda

Dolls from UNICEF for the displaced on eid: Fulla!

My kitchen

My TV room/Dining Room/Office

Best food I had in two weeks