Subject:  Dean in Beirut, Email 2

Marhaba, masa al-khair (Arabic "Hello, good evening"),

One might describe the traffic in Beirut as anarchic, but I always imagined
anarchy to involve some movement, and often there is no movement whatsoever.
More than once, I and others decided that we might have better luck
getting off of the bus and walking ... and indeed we did.

When in motion, however, traffic is a free-for-all that is not for the
faint-hearted.  Driving on the right is just a suggestion.  Honking horns
substitute for slowing down at traffic lights.  Drivers seem to hold
pedestrians in the same regard as they do bugs splattered on their
windshield.

When people think of danger in the Middle East, they tend to think of
terrorism; but that problem is miniscule compared to vehicle accidents.  A
case in point happened this afternoon when the bus I was on rear-ended a
van-load of people.  Nobody was injured, but we smacked hard enough that
people in the van may notice some inexplicable sore necks a few years from
now.  For that reason, I try to ride in busses (and when possible, trains)
rather than in vans or taxis.

I saw statistics on vehicle accidents, and Middle Eastern countries tend to
rank among the highest rates.  Fatalities in Egypt are over 40 times what
they are in the U.S., and I suspect that the countries I am visiting on this
trip are not far behind.

It seems strange that people would drive that way, because otherwise the
Lebanese seem quite polite, calm, laid-back and sane.  Many people (mainly
men) seem to while away their whole afternoons in the parks playing
backgammon, drinking Turkish coffee, and perhaps smoking tobacco (or
whatever) through their waterpipes.

I've been taking in the historical sights of Lebanon.  Byblos, a small town
on the Mediterranean coast (from which we got the word Bible), claims to be
the world's oldest continually inhabited city (7500 years), although
Damascus in Syria and Jericho in the West Bank make the same claim.  It's
interesting to see the different levels of civilization unearthed at the
archeological site.  On top of a neolithic community the Phoenicians
(creators of the first alphabet, possibly here in Byblos) built their
principle city.  Many other groups also made their marks on this site --
Egyptians, Mesopotamians, Mycenaeans, Amorites, Hyskos, Greeks, Romans,
Crusaders, Ottoman Turks ... yada, yada, yada.  Now, we're adding the
monuments of our civilization to the site -- McDonalds and Starbucks.

Tripoli, in Northern Lebanon, has a great Crusader Castle and a wealth of
historic Mosques (some 700 years old).  It also has a great souk, a maze of
dark, narrow pedestrian pathways that make for a very exotic feeling market
place.  This is the city where Yasser Arafat holed up for awhile back in
1982.  Unfortunately, his mere presence in the city set off conflicts among
Islamic groups such that many people lost their lives until Yasser finally
took a hint and left.

Today, I went south to what was known in Phoenecia as the cities of Sidon
and Tyre.  Many interesting archeological sites remain.  Sections of the
cities are preserved as International Heritage Sites, and signs posted
instruct military personnel to leave those sites be.  Various military units
are present ... the South Lebanese Army, the Syrians and United Nations
personnel.  The U.N. security zone is just a few miles south of Tyre.

I wanted to take a photo of a guy on a tank, but discretion is the better
part of valor.  I tend to think of photos in the same way fisherman think
about fish.  I think a lot about the ones that got away.  For me, the ones
that got away number in the thousands by now, and that's not just a fish
story.  It's taboo, for example, for a western man such as myself to
photograph muslim women.  It's too bad, because they are every bit as
interesting as photo subjects in their traditional dress as are muslim men, who
sometimes grant my requests to photograph them.  Also, lots of interesting
photos get away from me merely because I use public transport.  I can't just
give the bus driver a bumper sticker that says "I brake for photographs".

Lebanon seems to be largely a trilingual country.  Just about everybody I've
met dabbles in both French and English as well as their primary language
Arabic.  Street signs, billboards, license plates, etc. are in at least two
languages.  Radio and television programs oddly intersperse the three
languages.  A newscast may be mainly in Arabic, but there are occasional
spots in English or French.  Commercials seem to alternate between the three
languages.

It's going to be much more difficult communicating in Syria, I've been told,
where few people speak either French or English, even in the capital,
Damascas.

The other night I went out for a beer with someone I met through the
internet.  Tracy, a nurse from Belfast, currently working in Saudi Arabia,
responded to a message I posted on my travel guide's e-bulletin board (when
I was back in the States) requesting information about cheap hotels in
Beirut.  She also introduced me to an interesting guy named Frank from
Montreal, who works for the United Nations as an accountant (of all things)
in the Golan Heights (of all places), the territory of Syria occupied by
Israel since 1967.

Other than that, budget backpacking travelers seem rather scarce here.

With the exception of a brief downpour this afternoon, the weather has been
perfect over the last five days -- slightly chilly in the morning, slightly
hot by mid-afternoon.

My internet time is up.  I head next to the Bekaa Valley of Lebanon, home of
Hezbollah and the spectacular Roman City of Heliopolis.  You probably won't
here from me again via this venue until I get to Amman, Jordan, in about 10
days.

Ma'a salaama (Ciao),

Deano

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