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.