They Bombed Aley

I wrote this in the wee hours of Wednesday night. And I'm just now posting it.

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Last night was the closest I’ve come to terrorism.

Around 10 pm, May 23, a huge bomb went off in the middle of the souk of Aley. Two nights before, a bomb went off in Verdun, about 10 minutes from where I live now, and the night before, next to the ABC Shopping Mall in Ashrafiyeh. Those first two are in the most popular shopping places in Beirut. All of them went off at night. About two people died. In Aley, there were about eight injuries. No deaths.

When I was watching the news, I couldn’t make out where the building was. For at least five minutes, all I saw was the chaos. There was a sea of people in the street; the camera was jerking around all over the place. Mohamad heard from the news (Do you know how frustrating it is to need a translation of the local news?) that it was at the beginning of the souk, next to the bank. “Thank God. It’s more empty at that end, and that’s not where my friends are.”

But then when the camera got back far enough for me to make out the buildings, I saw that it was Loulwa’s building. The shop right next to her Roastery was totally blown away. But the sign on her shop was there. This isn’t at the end of the souk; it’s smack dab in the middle.

The street was filled with people, and it was night. Rola later told me that the glass was blown out of all those shops.

“When was it?”

“Around 10. Loulwa would have closed the shop by then.”

Of course, I had called the shop, before I knew that the bomb went off in that building, and no one answered. I called her niece, because she was my student last year, and for some reason, it is one of two students’ phone numbers that I have in my phone. But that line was constantly busy.

“Who was injured?”

“We’ll know tomorrow.”

Loulwa has worked in that shop for 15 years. She never goes anywhere. Always she would commend me on my “bravery.” “Here’s this foreigner who from the first day is taking the bus, the serveece, the van, going here and there, always by herself.”

She won’t go into Beirut because she’s scared. At the beginning of the Civil War in 1975, she went to New York and lived in an apartment on Riverside Drive for most of the time.

But now she passes her days in the Roastery in front of the TV watching the world go by. She says she wishes she was stronger and more courageous to try different things and go different places and be independent. But when she was in New York, she stayed home all day, and in her village of Aley, she’s in the shop all day. Completely comfortable and safe.

The world has turned upside-down.

This is terrorism. Crowded, shopping places in Beirut. . . whatever. My friend in Chouifat earlier that evening had told me. “Just stay in, Jane. Don’t go around. I want to see you guys in Beirut, but I won’t be coming into Beirut.”

Who wants to commit terrorism in Lebanon?

It’s clear they want to strike fear, and again kill the tourist industry. Aley’s whole economy revolves around the two summer months when tourists from the Gulf rent houses in the mountains. The beautiful view overlooking Beirut and the Mediterranean, the nice shopping, and the cool weather double the population of Aley. And being an Arab country, people who are veiled and wear Arab dress feel more comfortable here than in Europe, America, or other places.

Last summer, it was those Gulf tourists who were the first to clear out when Israel started bombing. For some reason, they were way more quick about the whole thing. I remember seeing them packing up their cars in the middle of the night, right after the airport was bombed.

Of course, that was the same day my dad told me on the phone, “Get your bag packed now. Be ready to leave at a moment’s notice.” And I was getting e-mails, like the funny one from my brother. “Leave. And if they block the roads and you can’t find a car—-just run!” I think he was trying to be funny.

Either way, I was like, “I’m staying here. My friends are here. Even if they’re bombing everywhere else, Aley is safe.” And Aley was safe, throughout last summer’s war.

But no one was safe from the terrorism. The Israeli/US terrorism kept people from moving. It kept my friends running into their basements in the Bekaa Valley when the bombs just got “too close.” It kept my students thinking that they would die at any moment. It made my friends hopeless. When I would call from the U.S., there were a couple weeks where all I heard on the line was pure desperation.

So who would want to terrorize Lebanon?

On Sunday, the Lebanese military started clamping down on the Palestinian refugee camp of Nahr al Bard and members of Fatah Islam who had robbed a bank, in order to get weapons for the impending violence. That’s been the talk now (actually all year) that weapons are coming into the country. From the moment I stepped back onto Lebanese soil in September, the conventional wisdom was “They’re waiting for the summer.”

Who? Who’s waiting? Israel? Syria? The U.S.--to expand their occupation of the Middle East and start carrying through on their plans to start WWIII with Iran?

Fatah Islam said they had 300 bombs throughout the country, and they would start igniting one a day, which is what’s been happening this week. If you ask a person from Aley, just guess what they’ll say? Oh come on, even if it’s bad weather, it’s always the same culprit—-Syria. Everything bad that happens is the Syrian’s attempt to prevent the international tribunal on the murder of Rafik Hariri from carrying out its mission. Why? It will find the whole Syrian establishment guilty.

Parents are already calling the school about leaving the country. One of my students was absent yesterday fixing his visa at the U.S. Embassy. An American who works for an NGO has been told to leave. Another teacher (who already was having visa problems) is leaving tomorrow.

A thought briefly crossed my mind about the state of my stuff. How fast can I get it packed up? Is my computer backed up?

But I’m not going anywhere, and I’m not even freaked out. Or maybe it hasn’t set in yet. But I’m going to play hooky from school today and go up to Aley. I want to see everyone.

E-mail from a student

On Thursday, one of my students sent me this e-mail. This is what he saw from his window.
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Miss,
It looked like palestine...exactly like palestine:(!! Everyone is throwing
rocks at eachother and burning cars. Gunshots fired into the air that
sounded like rainn!!!!! The scattered army doesn't know where it's coming
from. Gunshshots every where. The army finally got the order to fire into
the air and scared many off. The army had 3 casualties but no one died. four
died and 25 injured. Miss it was sooo scary!!

It's coming

I didn't want to write this post. I composed it yesterday in the shower.

Lebanon will see a new civil war. No one is really saying it. We're even trying to ignore the news and such. But you can feel the fear. There are tears in people's eyes. We're backing up our harddrives.

It's that weird denial I saw last summer during the war, or actually for the 2 years I lived here before the war about that 15 year civil war. It's like no one wants to talk about it.

Yesterday, three cars were burnt. They arrested the snipers that they showed on Al-Manar TV.

Nasrallah, the leader of Hizbollah, keeps saying that anyone who shoots a Lebanese, whether they be Shia, Sunni, Christian, or Druze, is an enemy. Our only enemy is Israel.

And now they're dropping balloons. I saw on the TV lime green and pink balloons with Hebrew writing on them. They're being dropped out of planes and are filled with chemicals. They showed the people in the hospital yesterday who touched these balloons.

What is this? Israel wants to start war again. . .now. People were saying they would wait until the summer. Others were saying it's a conspiracy to frame Israel.

Here--everything is a conspiracy theory.

I'm reading a book called Middle East Conflicts. It's a history of the modern Middle East. So why that crappy name? But as I read it, my heart just sank. We're falling into War.

But maybe not. The army is still holding. I also had this realization last week. It's all about the army. So far they're holding down the fort. But as soon as they break down into their sectarian tribes--all is lost. That's what happened in 1975.

Here's Robert Fisk's article.

http://news.independent.co.uk/world/fisk/article2180764.ece

It confirmed everything I was thinking. Don't think I just copied him, okay? It really was everything I was thinking. But I didn't want to write this post. I just want to ignore the news.

Curfew

That's weird. I wasn't supposed to leave my house from 8:30 last night until 6:00 this morning. I invited my whole building over for some more mujadarra, and I ended up housing 3 "refugees"--people who couldn't go home. I've never been told that I couldn't leave my house. That's a weird feeling. It makes things seem really. . .serious.

A teacher-friend was still at work. He doesn't have a cell phone. And he's a crazy work-a-holic. But one of the guys knew to e-mail him on his .mac account, which is always open. He had already gotten an email from his dad saying, "So what are you doing about that curfew situation?" And he didn't know what his dad was talking about.

At one point, yesterday afternoon, while my friend was watching TV, she started crying. "We're falling into a civil war." 3 students died yesterday. This morning, on Al Manar (the Hizbolla news station) they showed snipers shooting from buildings, right behind the BHV where I have been known to shop. The guys who died yesterday are with the opposition (Hizbollah, Aoun, and friends). Now they have more martyrs.

I don't know. . . My brain isn't really allowing myself to ponder "the situation" very much. Everything changes in a blink of an eye. It's like you can't make plans. But I'm making some. I already invited people over for a dance party, so I'm still having the dance party tonight. And tomorrow I'll go up to Aley and spend the weekend there. Unless of course they block all the roads again or some more violence breaks out.

They threw stones at my friend's van yesterday as he was driving by the airport.

The Ministry of Education closed all schools today. So here I am in my classroom, in work-out pants and a nasty T-shirt, with no students.

A Plane vs. A Child

A Plane vs. A Child
Originally uploaded by Jane Rubio.

This is the Star Square, a.k.a. Saha Nijma and Place d'Etoile. It's in the center of Downtown. The beautiful European-styled Downtown that Rafik Hariri's company, Solidiere, rebuilt after the Civil War, many say with dirty, mafioso money stolen from the coffers of the Lebanese government.

Downtown has pretty much been shut down for a month, because Hizbolla has been camping out there, trying to force the Prime Minister to resign. I heard they're losing $40 million a day.

When I came back in September, these were the signs--A Plane vs. A Child. According to the BBC, 1,109 Lebanese civilians and 28 soldiers who were not engaged with Israel died. Some sources say about 1/3 of the civilians were children. Of the Israelis killed, 119 were soldiers, 44 were civilians, 19 of whom were Palestinian, according to Wikipedia.

Thanks Chavez!!!

Gracias Chavez

Originally uploaded by Jane Rubio.

Touring the destruction of the Dahiye (the southern suburbs of Beirut), I came across this amusment.

Yeah, Chavez, You're # 1!!!

But wait? What did Chavez (the Venezuelan president) do?? He kicked out the Israeli embassy during the war, and went around to Syria and Iran talking to Assad and Ahmadinejad in his little military outfit, styling himself like Castro.

Oh wait, and that's what he's doing now. After "winning" the recent elections in Venezuela, he is nationalizing all the major industries. The stock market dropped about 20% in the first 5 minutes.

On the Al Manar News station, which is run by Hizbolla, they praised Chavez, and then showed Ahmadinejad going to Venezuela to show his support for Chavez. Support being money--Iranian oil money. But Venezuela has oil money. Who's going to invest in Venezuela? With their Socialist president and "terrorist" friends?

The situation looks so bleak for Venezuela and Lebanon. There will be no foreign investment in these countries. There is no future for these people.

The poor people in these places think that their oil-rich sponsors (Chavez and Ahmadinejad) will provide them with money and jobs. Iranian-supported Hezbolla pays women $100 for covering with the hijab. They give public assistance. Chavez has provided free health care and universities for people who dropped out of school. That's fine. Someone needs to take care of the people. But if the economy is shot, life becomes hell for everybody.

Virtual School and "The Situation"

Early evening yesterday, it was not clear what was going to happen, so they decided to cancel school for Wednesday. But today has been a beautiful day, with shops open. Actually, I don't know how "normal" things are, since I've just stayed in my apartment in Hamra, walked down Bliss Street to get Malak al Towouk, ate it at the AUB campus, and then came to school, all of which are within a 7-minute walking radius.

Prime Minister Sanyoura is at a conference in Paris. Some people think he might resign. It seems the opposition (Hezbolla and friends) are going to hold off now on their protests. They've given Sanyoura a short time period to resign. If he doesn't resign, they'll start up again. But I don't know when.

Yesterday, there was no bread. Khbiz a3rabe is what they call it. In the U.S., we call it pita bread. I had all my neighbors over for dinner. I made a huge vat of mujadarra (lentils with rice and onions and 7 spices) and cabbage salad. It turned out super yum. I fed about 12 people super cheap. But this stuff should be eaten with Khbiz, and one of the guys drove around for 40 minutes on the motorcycle looking, and there was none to be found. Khbiz is the staple. That's the first thing to go when people get nervous about "the situation."

I've never heard "the situation" used so much in my life.

Oh, and yesterday, we heard all kinds of machine gun fire in my neighborhood. Mohamad can distinguish between M-16's and Kalishnikov's and fire crackers. This comes easily for people who live in Dahiye. We don't really know what it was.

Ten people died yesterday.

Officially, all faculty was supposed to be at school yesterday, on Virtual School. At the beginning of the year, it was set up. When "the situation" gets to the point that the kids can't come to school, they are all expected to go on line to get assignments and submit assignments. I came to school and graded their outlines becuase their first drafts were supposed to be due on Wednesday. So I sent them individual e-mails with my feedback. Many of them were on-line and anxious.

Yesterday was my first Virtual School day. It sucked. Go to school, grade stuff, and don't have the kids around. And have to sit at the computer all day, answering their anxious e-mails. Ever since the war, I kind of abhor sitting at the computer. (I'm slowly getting over this.)

In some ways, Lebanon is an alternative universe. Or at least my school. These kids want to come to school. They want to do their work. They had such a crazy, stressed-out summer where all their activities were cancelled, or they had to evacuate, or they had to be separated from their family members, and where they weren't sure if they would be able to continue their education in Lebanon, that they actually love school. They love the stability of it. When "the situation" gets a little tense, they ask me things like, "Miss, will we finish the 8th grade?" "Miss, are we on track?"

They want school.

Haram. I'm almost positive there's school tomorrow. Al7amdilah.

No school today

There was a disgusting black fog when I woke up this morning. When I went out to the balcony, there was a slight stench. I live on the sixth floor. I didn't get the full stench until I went down. They started burning tires along the Corniche before dawn. Instead of the blue Mediterranean this morning, it was a grey/black/green cloud.

As we were walking to school this morning, my preganant teacher/friend was covering her mouth.

Hezbolla wants the government to resign. They've been camping out downtown for maybe almost a month. The government is not stepping down. Hizbollah has been threatening to escalate things. People figured it would start after the Armenian Christmas. But now it's Ashoura. Their most holiest time--a ten-day mourning period. The culmination is next Monday. That's already an official holiday. It's the time when the Shia mourn the death of Huseyn, the son of Ali, the grandson of the Prophet Mohamad, who was killed in the battle at Kerbala by the Ummayads. You might see video footage of people walking in the streets, flagellating themselves. Sometimes the blood flows heavily. Hizbolla actually doesn't like that. They tell the people not to do it.

Let's see if there's school tomorrow.

It's such a weird situation. The government's not going to resign. Hizbolla is most likely not going to back down. They say they have all this support--in numbers and money. It looks like they are going to have to prove it.

Some say it comes down to the army. Will they stay faithful to this government? These guys have been camping thruoghout Beirut for the past month now. I'm sure they're tired. They don't get paid anything.

Who knows what will happen? Allah beya3rif.

God knows

At the Muzahira
Originally uploaded by Jane Rubio.

This is at a PSP (Druze party) rally in Aley last month. They are showing their support for government.

For the past three weeks, Hizbollah members have been camped out in Downtown. They want the current government to step down.
All the shops and businesses have been closed. They are strangling the economy. Hizbollah pays the people $20 a day, and gives them all their meals.

Everyone has been saying after the Armenian Christmas, which was on Sunday, Hizbollah will start to escalate things. Because they look stupid, camping out, not accomplishing anything. They said they will have a general strike. Today, they started in front of the Ministry of Finance.

The Lebanese fortune teller, Michel Heik, said that Lebanese kids would not finish school this year here.

Some of the students are already getting ready to leave.

But who knows, God knows. That's what everyone says all the time. You can't make prediction. "Allah bea3rf."

Jeishi, Jeishi Everywhere

Jeishi, Jeishi Everywhere
Originally uploaded by Jane Rubio.

I live in an armed society.

To get to church, we have to talk to a soldier who checks our names on a list.

The poor army guys are literally camped all over Beirut. You see them sleeping under buildings.

One of my students told me, "Miss. I woke up at 1o'clock in the morning last night to the walls shaking. I thought maybe they started bombing again." But no, it was all the tanks rolling in.

This is a picture of beautiful downtown Beirut, that Hariri rebuilt after the war.

(The former Prime Minister Rafik Hariri was assassinated on Valentine's Day two years ago. Hizbollah wants to stop the international tribunal from doing its work and accusing the Syrian officals who did it. This is one reason they resigned from the government and are now calling on the government to resign.)

I took this as I was walking to the start line of the Beirut International Marathon two months ago.

You see this everywhere--tanks, guns, army guys.