December 28, 2004

Christmas in Aley (a Druze community)


Christmas in Aley
Originally uploaded by Jane Rubio.



So for a Druze community, the Christmas decorations are out in full force. Little white and colored lights everywhere. Santa Clauses on front lawns. The shops in the souk have Christmas trees and garland. Red and green galore.

There were no decorations or lights during Ramadan.

The Druze say they’re not Muslim. Though officially and historically, the religion developed in the 1000's in Fatimad Egypt as an offshoot of an Ismaili Shiite sect. But to me, it seems that many are wanna-be Christian. My Druze students are for the most part very anti-Muslim and have a strong affinity for Christians. One day, a kid yelled out, "Who thinks Christian is better than Muslim?" And the whole 7th grade class raised their hands. This kid also said Christian is better than Druze.

Some Druze go to church. It might be a function of not being able to go to their own house of worship or to know a lot of the substance of their religion, unless they decide to become “religious." (The Druze are a bifurcated society where about 10% choose to become religious. It entails having to dress a certain way and attend certain religious ceremonies.)

Since the Druze religion is philosophically esoteric, Bahai-like, believing in aspects of all religions, many don’t see a problem with going to church or to mosque. Because theirs is the final revelation, all the previous revelations are shadows of the true Druze religion. So officially Druze can participate in other religious services.

However, much of the affinity towards Christianity has to do with social status and class. Christians are at the top; Muslims are on the bottom. The Druze are probably somewhere in between, even though many would claim they're on the bottom. Christian culture is associated with open, modern, Western ways, while Muslims are often associated with Palestinian refugees, Hezbollah, and the all-hated "dirty" Syrians.

Of course, not all the Druze are anti-Muslim. I have plenty of friends who have Muslim friends and Qurans and even go to mosque. But I am often surprised by how positively I am received by this community because I am a Christian. I don't think it would be same were I Muslim.

December 19, 2004

I live in a Druze community—2nd Draft

One of my Druze friends who’s reading my blog thinks that some of the posts are childish (hmmm. . . never been called that before) and many are just straight up offensive.

The sheikh is someone worthy of respect and authority, who regulates conflicts having to do with families and matters of state, not dealing with silly things like the shebab. I’m belittling the community and the religion.

And why am I dissing the Christian guy who wrote it? He's not a bad or ignorant person. In fact, why am I talking like I'm in the academy? That posturing where you always have to diss other people's work, because that's what academics do. Why do I think the sarcasm about studying strange people groups is so funny. I'm just trying to pretend that I belong in the academic crowd, but of course, it's just criticism without substance.

And Lebanon has some of the best hospitals and doctors. You don’t go to the hospital in Lebanon if you want to die. I did do my eye surgery here. And even tested the doctor. When he told me he studied in Houston, I asked him where the best Lebanese food is. “Sami’s.” Check, that’s near where my sister lives, at Hillcroft and Westheimer. Obviously he hadn’t made it out west enough towards Katy to try Phoenicia’s. (That’s so funny. Now I kind of understand the Phoenicia thing. A lot of Christians here refuse to call themselves Arab. Though they speak Arabic, they don’t want to be ethnically linked to Muslims. So they call themselves Phoenician.)

In my attempt to be witty and to make it interesting for you, my readers, I’m mocking and ridiculing Lebanon—a place which I’ve fallen in love with.

I don’t like my pictures of Aley, either. I show so many sheikhs and sheikhas. I don’t show how everyone else is dressed, which is mostly like people in the U.S. and Latin America.

December 5, 2004

Transport: Serveece and Vans


Traffic
Originally uploaded by Jane Rubio.



Beirut has a system of shared cabs called service. You stand on the street; the guys slow down; and you tell him the place where you want to go. Half the time, he makes a tsk noise, tilts his head back, and drives off. It seems kind of rude if you're an American, until you learn that this is how Lebanese people say no. If they're heading there, they tilt their head sort of down and towards the door. Sometimes they'll say "Serveecein" which means you pay 2,000 Lebanese Lira, instead of 1,000, which is what service also means. LL 1,000 = U.S. $.67.

So it's a cool idea, and obviously way cheap. But there are a couple problems. It usually takes forever. Not only is traffic in Beirut horrendous, but these guys are always looking for customers, so they slow down whenever they see anyone, and since there can be up to four people in the car, you are often taking detours along the way.

And then half of these guys are major jerks. Like once you're sitting in the car, they'll start renogiating the terms. You looked at him straight in the face and said "Service?" and he nodded down, which means L.L. 1,000, but then he'll start saying that where I want to go is farther or something. Or sometimes they just tell you a different price when you get there. One time a guy drove me literally one minute down a couple side streets, just because I didn't know where the place was, and he charged me 5,000. What the . . .??? I was like No Way, Jose. He was getting aggressive, so I just took out the 1000, dropped it on the seat next to me, and opened the door. But at this point he was grabbing my leg and yelling at me in Arabic. One woman I know was followed out of the car by the chouffer, who then spit on her. So I decided to just give him the 5,000.

But then, of course, they can be nice too. Yesterday a guy took me to a nearby street so that I could take a servicein to Solidaire. He wouldn't take the 1,000 when I gave it to him.

Now the vans are the other way of getting around. I have to take them a lot since I live in Aley. Roller derby is an understatement for the way they drive. I risk my life everytime I get into one, especially since it's on the super windy Damascas highway, going up the mountain. People get concerned for me because they're filled with Syrian workers. (The Syrians are to Lebanese what Mexicans are to U.S. Americans, but the culture here isn't so P.C.) But I've never had a problem, and usually they play good Lebanese pop music. It's just that the driving is way, way crazy. But these are things you get used to when you're not in the U.S.

December 4, 2004

Cell phones in Lebanon


Political cell phone covers
Originally uploaded by Jane Rubio.



Extortion. That's how the Swiss guy in Frankfurt described the cell phone system in Lebanon once I broke it down for him. In this country, there are two cell phone companies which are pretty much the same. People buy cards consisting of a certain number of units for a certain amount of time. A 30 day card that gives you about 150 speaking minutes costs about $50. That is a HUGE amount of money for the people here, considering average salaries might be $400 a month. So if you don't recharge your card by the 30th day, you lose your units. When you use up your units or after the 30 days, they give you 5 days where you can just receive calls, but if you don't recharge before those days are up, you lose your line. Which means you have to spend around $70 for a new phone number.

It's a horribly ridiculous system. There is no competition. Apparently it's all run by the mob. The people of Lebanon went on strike last summer, abstaining from using the cell phone on Mondays. But that did nothing.

Even landline usage is super expensive. And there's no voicemail because that would take someone's units. People SMS a lot. And there's developed a mode of communication called the missed call. People decide what the missed call is going to mean beforehand, like I'll give you a missed call when I get there. This is kind of stressful. You have to really think about if you're going to pick up the phone when someone calls because you don't want to take up their units.

And check out the cool cell phone covers. From left to right, there's Walid Jumblatt, the head of a Druze political party, son of Kamal Jumblatt, who was killed during the Civil War. Hafez Al Assad, the late president of Syria. Mousa Al Sadr, a Lebanese Shiite leader who disappeared visiting Lybia in the 70's. And last but not least, Rafik Al Hariri, the Lebanese Prime Minister who recently stepped down. Hariri's company, Solidaire, has been responsible for rebuilding Beirut since the end of the Civil War.

Since most of the Druze and Christian Lebanese people I know can't stand Syria, I don't know who would go around with Hafez Al Assad on her phone. If I went around with Al Sadr on my phone, I'd be considered some sort of radical Shia sympathizer. It would be like going around with Che Guevara stuff, which is very popular here also. But if I go with Walid Jumblatt, that would gain me a lot of brownie points, since I live in a Druze community.