Party like It's 1999

Coming out of Syria and into Lebanon is a little like getting out of church.  Time to drink some beer, watch football, and get back to sinning.  Three of my favorite things god probably doesn’t like:  Sex, music, dance.  When you get off the plane in Rio, Ibiza, or Vegas you can just feel the electricity in the air whether you’re partaking or not.  Like the hum of the refrigerator, you notice it when it's loud, or off all-together, leaving the house an eerie quiet.  In the shops, streets, and cafes of Syria the silence is deafening.  Men (who make up 95% of the people on the street) fill the void with camaraderie.  But when the talking is over and they walk down the street alone a grave look weighs on their faces.  A Brazilian once complained to me, "give a guy a few drinks, some ladies, and a good tune and the politicians can do whatever they want.. he won’t care."  In Syria they do care, and can't do anything about it.

My cute idea of asking few questions on film about relationships fell flat.  No one would answer the questions.  The idea scared them, and not a camera shy kind of scared.  One guy I talked with often said, "You are my friend and I want to help you, but this is not America.  Small things can cause big problems here."

I’m going to miss the simple, unpretentious life in Syria and the extremely friendly, generous people.  Those who spoke English would often tell me about the English music they loved:  Lionel Richie, Whitney Houston, Brian Adams, Celine Dion topped the list.  They are some easy listening aficionados those Syrians.  <<Speaking of Brian Adams he just had a concert in Damascus and charged 120$ for the tickets.  I thought that pretty douchey until i later learned he was donating all the money to local charities.. kind of a rob the rich/give to the poor nod to his Robin Hood soundtrack success>>  But after a few days the gravity of life was starting to weigh on my shoulders.. you can really feel it in the air.  Time to cross the border. 

Beirut is a party town.  Bars empty at ten are packed at two.  Word on the street is that there might be a war in a few months when the UN's special tribunal makes an official announcement on who assassinated ex premier Hariri in 2005.  People are bracing for it.  Is all this carefree, club-going living in Beirut some form of denial to an impending disaster?  Charis Bake, a traveling anthropologist from Berkley, smashed my half-baked theory over breakfast at the hostel.   The Lebanese have always liked to party.  And they’ll be damned sure to live it up while there is time on the clock.  Beirut is the closest to Vegas I’ve seen in the region… just take away the buffets, add a few thousand years history, and consider that at any moment another bomb could drop.


Street in downtown Damascus / Beirut




Reminders of Beirut's violent past