A New Yellow Purse

Wow -- have not written since May. Just lazed around in Honduras and Belize. And everything else in between a big blur ... London, Mexico (2x), Nice, Dayton (2x) ... Got offered a job. Stressed over how to turn it down (not answering the phone did not work out so well).

Three things reminded me of my blog these last few days.

Number one was Thursday. At a meeting at work when I get a message asking me where I am at. Obviously I am at work. My friend Merrie says I am on Facebook chat. I remembered I had forgotten to logout of my iTouch Facebook. But Merrie says no -- you don't understand -- I am chatting with you RIGHT NOW. This person says you were robbed at gun point in London and need money. Oh, oh -- scam. But I can't do anything about it. I get other messages and calls -- Lisa goes on my page and that seems OK. Get home and check everything -- the scammer is gone. But I decide to report to Facebook. My account goes down immediately. And I go into major withdrawal. It was bizarre -- I really have never been addicted to anything -- this was different. I answer all the questions -- Lisa e-mails me to keep me "sane". Connects me with a friend this happened to -- took her 3 weeks to get her account back. My friend Rita contacts Mark on his account (that I set up and check ...) to see if I am all right. So I get the idea to use his account ... and start friending my friends ..... Waste all sorts of time. And get my account less than 48 hours later -- inducing all sorts of bizarre relief. I'm gonna think about that later.

Then my cousin Dolores posts her Dad's blog on her Facebook -- so I go in to follow it -- and have to log in to do so :-)

And the third is the yellow purse. I took my yellow purse from Lulu's to the Middle East. And in a classic you get what you pay for -- my $30 purse disintegrates. I had tried to find a new one at the DC Sample Sale. No luck -- so Melissa found me this one. And I used it for the first time to go to Dupont circle to meet a new friend for coffee. Funny how things just kind of combine and lead you to do something or other ....

That movie the Social Network was so true to life. Facebook is strangely addictive. And causes you to reveal all sorts of things. I have gotten more cautious though. Someone friended me -- they were in California and had no friends. I accepted and then deleted and blocked the person. And then the wife of a friend started e-mailing me. Just tearing into me about the drinking age -- and calling me a pinhead for thinking that if you can make someone go to war why block their drinking. I don't like confrontation -- so I politely apologize and remove the post from her son's account (who is a friend). I am wondering how she even knows because he is not her Facebook friend. But I don't really care -- I have apologized -- and think it is done as she accepts my apology. Go off to the movies to see Wall Street (which also reminded me of the blog because I started it in West Central Africa -- in October 2008 when the meltdown happened). Come back and I have another rant from her on how she disagrees with me and kids should go to war at 18. I don't want to engage with her -- she can barely spell and use proper grammar and English is her only language!!! So I blocked her. I guess I just "chose" to be cutoff from my friend (her husband) -- but I just don't need toxic people hassling me and calling me a pinhead.

This is the first time I've actually done it -- removed a toxic person from my life. She is kind of crazy -- I hope she does not report me to Facebook and get me banned -- but I just knew she would keep at it and at it. So goodbye trouble -- hello new yellow purse :-).

Home at Last

Get up at a civilized hour and off to Heathrow. FLight is at noon -- but go to breakfast at the nice lounge. Very relaxing. FLight on type -- nice seats.

And then I notice the seat belt light is not on and it is nearly noon. Soon enough they announce that because of volcanic ash our takeoff time is 3 PM. Ouch -- have so much to do. And I want to see Sydney. And pick up Anthony.

They do serve drinks and turn on the movies. People can get off -- but not leave the gate area so can't go back to the lounge. Watch "Leap Year".

I check out the flight status on the Blackberry and see a 1:55 takeoff. People start getting back on. We do push back at 2 -- and off at 2:30. HAve to fly North and then just above the volcano. The pilot insists we can see the volcano out the window -- but I cannot see anything but clouds. See the Last Station, Leap Year (again) and Book of Eli. Land 3 hours late ... home by 8 and have to pick up the rental SUV to pick up Anthony. The best part is seeing Sydney -- who is happy to see us but is yelping a bit ... probably played really hard.

Amazing how you can go to hundreds of countries and still see something new. Although as usual .... things are more the same than most people would guess. And the best part -- 10 nights away -- on carry on :-) The evolution to a traveller continues. And what will I remember the most? The students dancing in the streets in Byblos because they had graduated. These kids did not live through the civil war -- but they did survive the attacks a few years back. Their resilience is a lesson not to be forgotten :-)

Goodbye Beirut .... and Happy Anniversary

I give Mark a card for our 27th anniversary. He tries to recycle it – which makes me laugh. I prefer Mark’s tour – in his make believe world everything is funnier. And how are we to know it is not just as accurate?
I skip breakfast for an extra 15 mins sleep. Off to the airport – filled with smoke. Check in is a breeze – and eventually we do find the Star Alliance lounge. Filled with broken cappuccino machines.

I had put off buying Michael Anthony (Houeida’s Lebanese son – now nearly 3) a souvenir from his home land – intending to everyday but choosing a nap instead. Nothing but pastry and perfume shops – but get lucky and find a t-shirt beyond security. I think about Michael Anthony and the kids at the Museum. The twist of fate that sent him to live so far away. And I laugh at his temperament – so like Houeida’s. Nurture clearly winning over nature.

Off we go. Watch “The Lovely Bones”. Good movie – but as usual not as good as the book. The lady next to us changes seats because her screen is not working – so laid down and sleep most of the way.

Land at Heathrow at 12:30. Might have made the flight home – but glad not to have to face another long flight. We mess around looking for the Hoppa bus to the hotel – Mark refusing to ask for directions. Back and forth we go –and eventually find the stop. It is cold – particularly after Lebanon’s bright sunny weather. Had harbored intentions of getting Mark to take me to Central London – but in the end just wanted McDonal’s and a nap. A Sheraton this time – with its heavenly bed. Slept and slept – and then just laid in bed thinking about crusaders and castles. Wishing I could talk to them and know their motivation. Thinking about the “Restoration Tour” – and how somehow I managed not to realize the theme until well into the trip. No spa or cafes. Thank goodness our next holiday – just a few weeks away – will be at beach resorts in Honduras and Belize. Won’t even make a pretense of a tour – just lounge.

Had an anniversary dinner at the Hotel. Was hoping for plain spaghetti – but had some fancy version that was lost on me. The luster of the hotel gone a bit – they actually mix smoking and non smoking rooms and it stinks. Mark suggests I bring my blanket to the bar. We have been married a long time – because I actually thought of that :-) Found out we share an anniversary with Mark’s cousin Linda – she is at 35. Facebook knows all …… so nice to have access again – Syria actually blocked it. Guess too much freedom. Will have to look up Jackie on Facebook. She did give us her e-mail as did Jane and Tim. I was too sleepy to ask others. Wish I had gotten Sally’s. Then again you meet people on tour – grow close – learn all about them – but then part ways. I do not like tours – too restrictive. But can remember people we have toured with so clearly – even from long ago …

Lavender bubble bath – brought from home. Praying volcanic ash stays away – want to get home and see Sydney. Pick up Anthony on Mother’s Day. My visit to Hopkins on 19 May looms – but trying to put it away – follow Anthony’s approach – it is not now. Thinking about our wedding and honeymoon in New York City. Mark leaving the bathroom lights on – me thinking he must be uncomfortable in the dark as well. Later finding out it was to keep roaches at bay. No matter where I stay – always leave the bathroom light on. Roaches do not care how fancy a hotel is – still recall the epic battle with the Athenian roaches – who were no match for Mark’s giant shoes. The clerk saying “we have no roaches” and laughing as we walked away knowing what they would find :-)

Napping for most of the days makes getting to sleep hard for me. Not for Mark – he is snoring away …. Seemed perplexed when I said I would have a hard time sleeping. Cannot wait to be home in my own bed – sometimes the best part of a trip is the return home :-)

Belsaak Ruins

I’ve lost track of where we are supposed to go. Unlike in Syria we do not have an hour by hour itinerary. I ask Sultana who barks “it is in your program”. Mark tortures Sultana with political questions. Which of course are inconsistent with her “everyone lives in peace in Lebanon” line. I guess the civil war was not about people hating each other. Mark sees Hezbollah signs – which seem to fascinate him. And he bizarrely knows who the leader of the Druze is. I only learned about the Druze from Sharif – and of course I was not really listening so I don’t know a lot.
The ruins are impressive – and Mark of course recognizes the columns from the Lebanese money. I neglected to bring a hat so I mostly look for shady spots to sit. I have stopped listening to Sultana – I just want to experience Lebanon on my own terms. At a bit of a distance – an observer at the edges. It is really the only way I can reconcile being at a place which has experienced so much violence. I think about riding the camel offered by some Bedouins – but don’t act on it. Mark finds himself a 12% beer – he is like one of those pigs that find rare mushrooms when it comes to beer.

We have lunch in a dodgy looking place. More and more people having stomach difficulties it seems. The food tastes great – but I can feel it will not settle well. I think we are done – but we have one more Castle. With a museum. It is beautiful – the sort of place I would like to sit and read a book at. And finally we see baths that are different.

Back we go – Sultana points out the bridge blown by the Israelis a few years ago. Now reconstructed. Will Lebanon explode again? Hard to imagine such fancy shops in a war zone. Then again hard to believe the Pentagon was burning across the Potomac from Fort McNair.

Today is election day for the Brits. They all voted absentee (or by proxy). No more news on the volcano – the Times Square failed bomber has taken over the news. And the Greek crisis. The irony of being in Beirut – all quiet – while a car bomb gets found in Times Square. I e-mail back and forth with my friend Houeida about Lebanon. Her reality is very different than what I experience. I liked Syria better – much cleaner, friendlier people. I realize I do not know what part of Lebanon she is from. I could have asked her abut Lebanon. I did not even buy a tour book. The price of having been “everywhere” seems to be a loss of awe. But the reward is feeling comfortable just about anywhere …. I’m not sure which I prefer to be. I do think I like the comfort – the sense that most places are the same.
Dinner on our own at the Hotel. Mark has a ton of beers – Vaughn’s request for beer cans providing a renewed incentive. Not much packing to do – and no clean clothes left …. Leave for London tomorrow.

A Day in Beirut

Sultana gives us a later start – 8:30. We go to the “old town” – rebuilt by billions from entrepreneurs. Everyone is Beiruting again, the bill boards say. Everything is shiny and new. Great shops opened or about to open. Guards everywhere – I guess Dunkin doughnuts must be protected. I like Sultana’s guiding – she does not speak so much. Light lots of candles – praying for various causes – including Lebanon. We get free time and want to go to Starbucks – but Sultana does not know where it is.

Off to the Museum. Same old stuff. The most amusing thing is the school children – making fun of the naked statues. We do get to see a movie about the civil war’s effect on the Museum and its reconstruction – which is the most interesting info I have ever gotten out of a Museum!

On to lunch in Byblos. By the sea – which is gorgeous. I so want to ditch the tour and go to the beach. We see a small parade – apparently kids celebrating graduation. A few of the Brits join the dance. Amazing. Then off to more ruins – a castle. With its own museum. Time at the souk … which is really just a few souvenir shops. Mark does find cheap beer, which makes him happy. I’m avoiding liquids – Sultana is not big on bathroom stops. Finally we go back and I get a nap. Before another “typical” dinner in Old Town. I tried to convince Mark to go to McDonald’s instead – but failed.

The good news is Blackberry works. Able to send Becky Birthday wishes – maybe buying cards weeks ahead is not such a good idea.

On to Beirut

Up early again and on to the bus. We visit some water wheels. Then have to visit another crusader Castle – whose name I cannot remember. Wake up and off we go – exact same rooms, exact same constructions. Sahah a Din did not take this castle. I don’t understand – seems harder to defend than the one he did take over. I get a break from Sharif’s guiding by not climbing to the top and taking the “easy” path. Get 5 minutes to myself just to look. To think about the crusaders – with no Netbooks, Blackberries, iTouches, TVs …… Wonder if they could even read. And why did they build a castle here? How is that going to help take back the Holy Land? Mark summed it well. Message home … send more soldiers, less architects.

Another “typical” lunch. I loose an earring and make a fuss. As always, it turns up – vindicating Mark’s blasé attitude about the loss. Sharif gets his tip – Mark has been replaced by Sally as the collector/presenter. We get to the border. Takes an hour to get “out of Syria”. We get our passports back (which have to be collected in person – your name called out by the agent – except mine – I am simply “American”.)

We move a few feet to the Lebanese border and meet Sultana – new guide. Mark gets some Lebanese lira from a really smelly trader – our first encounter with the questionable hygiene of the Lebanese. Of course this is what University was like – but the years have masked the old smells. We wait and wait and wait. After well over an hour the other bus – the “yellow bus” moves. We figure we have 10 or 15 mins left. After an hour Sultana tells us that someone has an Israeli stamp in their passport and this is causing a fuss. I try to “help” and suggest that maybe the border folks do not recognize a stamp because surely no one would have an Israeli stamp. Sultana just ignores me. Everyone looks at me and Mark – but we know we don’t have Israeli stamps as we had gotten new passports last year for the very purpose of avoiding Israeli stamps. Andrew tells Sultana he had been to Israel but thought his passport was not stamped. Everyone gets their passport back except Andrew. Some scheme has been worked out – but it has to be approved by the Central office. Mark manages to find a beer. I tell this to Andrew. One of the ladies smirks – and I point out her husband is drinking with Mark. I want a picture – but don’t want the soldiers to take my camera. After 3 hours (I think) Andrew gets his passport back and off we go. The guard then takes mine and Mark’s passports because of some irregularity. The man helping Sultana through passport control says it is no big deal. The soldier comes back and off we go. I had asked Sultana if she had ever had such an issue with a passport and an Israel stamp. She says no – clearly not amused. She is sullen – the anti Sharif. We get no information from her. She does let us stop to go to the bathroom – at a bakery. I get some baklava and Lebanon is redeemed. And the border trials can be filed under “the worse the better”. Will certainly make a good story that someone forgot he had an Israeli stamp :-)

We get to the city. It looks like Vegas on steroids. The traffic is horrific and the parking chaotic. That’s the best way to describe Beirut. Chaotic. The bus cannot turn so we get off (near the President’s house supposedly) and walk. We end up at the Commodore --- not the Bristol as advertised. Brits never seem to complain and are always so calm. They were not peering round the corner or trying to tell Sultana what to do. But tempers are short. Some people are angry about the Hotel. A lady is upset about not having her “case”. It is almost funny – perhaps all that stiff upper lipping leads to volcanic eruptions. The case lady is screaming in her room – can be heard throughout the floor. The hotel is shabby and the room is dirty – but have stayed in worse.

Aleppo

Coke with ice plus too many desserts equals an upset stomach. The more places I go to – the more they look deceptively like home. So guard comes down …. And bacteria do not know they are “the same”. Sharif claims that Syrians have leather stomachs while foreigners have stomachs made of silk. I’m sure Sharif would get just as sick in the U.S. but it isn’t worth bringing up.
Go about visiting sights. St Simeon’s Church (now in ruins). He was an ascetic saint who decided to spend hi life atop a pillar. Or a monkey who threw feces from a pillar – according to Mark. End up at another Museum. Syria has not cured my distaste for museums. More old coins, jewelry, vases and broken statues. By now I could give the tour – even though I only half listened in Damascus. The old maps are interesting – the evolution of perceptions; the amazing accuracy without the benefit of the view from Space. Sharif is less adamant that we stay together so I wonder off a bit. Jackie stayed outside because she was not feeling well. Was tempted to stay with her but did not want to lie. We leave the Museum and go back to the Hotel. Traffic is so bad that walking to lunch will be faster. I try to talk Mark into playing hookie but he does not bite. We have lunch at a Hotel in an old building. It is beautiful, guess I am glad I came. I order some rice – and get a huge plate. Sharif’s Mom is guiding a French tour and they eat at the same Restaurant. Sharif is clearly a Mommy’s boy and despite his complaints about smoking he joins her in a cigarette. Syria has presumably passed anti smoking laws – but as long as a room is open (which as far as I can tell can simply mean an open window) people puff away.
We go to the Citadel after lunch. The building itself is impressive – but Sharif’s explanations are now bordering on annoying. The horse’s stable, the baths, the mosque ….. The view of the city is impressive – and Sharif shows us our Hotel. Just round the corner. As long as you can negotiate the twists and turns and the death defying traffic ….. See some kids carrying a small kitten. Hard to tell if it is a pet or dinner. Hopefully the former. Have seen very few pets …. Miss seeing dogs being walked.
Off into the souk we go. Unlike other Middle Eastern counties – we have not really been take to shops “just to look”. We stop at the soap shop (Syria is apparently known for handmade soaps and Aleppo is the mecca of soap making). I get one bar of soap for about $2 – presumably lavender although it just smells like soap to me. Carryon luggage is great insurance against souvenir buying.
We then visit the soap making factory – which is interesting and a welcome respite from castles and ruins. Then some other shops. The former RAF pilot decided to walk back and I talk Mark into following. He was flying in Kuwait in the 60s – so he must be 70. But in amazing shape – we struggle to keep up with him along with his wife. Cars are actually driving through the souk. Can’t think about it – just press on,. The RAF fellow has a map which he consults from time to time. We climb some steps and have a look – then come down and run into the fellow that used to work pharmaceuticals and knows Northern Virginia well. We walk a bit more and voila – we are by the hotel. We go off to the beer shop and managed not to get run over.
Another “authentic” dinner – the same as all the other ones. And off to bed – on to Beirut tomorrow.