Hey Ruth

Ethiopia is now long gone, old news passed away and so be it. I'm not too happy with them for blocking blogspot dot com and charging $40 for a SIM card, both matters left me high and dry away from the rest of the world's happenings. But that was then and now is Beirut.

Beirut is tough as nails and beautiful because of it. The country of Lebanon has managed to survive cuts from a thirty year civil war and a conflict with Israel, both at the very same time. The city of Beirut is still a post war zoned city of broken buildings, tanks, guns guns guns, live wires, and roadblocks oddly scattered in the wholesomly gorgeous Mediterranean climate of palm trees and cafes. The Paris of the Middle East, Party Capital of the Islamic World, let the truth be known that Beirut is beautiful. I'm lucky to be here, forced to cope with the everyday struggle of the Beirutian five girls to one guy ratio. The New York Times knows, since they just voted Beirut into the Top Place To Visit in 2009.

The rumours are true, things don't really calm down here. You've got maniacal drivers and the air pollution from their old, smoking Mercedes taxis, star universities, bars to rival Soho and coffee thicker than mud, political demonstrations, and that darn five to one ratio all at once. Add people so friendly you’ll swear it can’t be true, a political situation existing on a knife-edge, and gallery openings that continue in the face of explosions and protest . Beirut is alive and here I am.

and here I am here. The biggest culture shock in the world doens't come from the initial introduction, the moment you realize trying times are indeed ahead and you've got to brace yourself, mind, body, and spirit in order to keep your head above water. Hunker down and take it. But thats not the biggest culture shock. The biggest culture shock is going from last to first, zero to hero, nothing to austerity. Five days ago, I was walking through the mud at midnight, unable to flag down a donkey taxi, and trying to find my way home in the dark. All the shops were closed and the dogs were out, picking themselves through all of the day's trash. I had just rented two Jackie Chan movies because all my books were long finished, but ten minutes into my sludge home, the distrct power cut off and I was now in darkness, just like the rest of Semsi, south Addis Ababa. No power, no nothin' and I was pissed, so much so that I quit watching my step long enough to slub my toe long and hard on a rock. When getting the mud off the next morning, I found that I had lost Toenail Number Four. The very next day, I was picked up from the airport in Beirut in a BMW 745i, and ate KFC to go.

I'm put up on the tenth top floor of a building that looks out over the Mediterranean Sea and up at the mountains of snow further in the distance. The husband is a philanthropist and the wife is a painter. They have a 19 year old daughter who loves Notorious B.I.G. and Che. Last night, there were ten deaths in a gang shooting just outside. I was out eating on sushi, but I heard the shots walking to the car. Driving home, Natalie and I saw folks walking, arm in arm around the crew taking notes and cleaning up everything, all at the end of another day in the life.

I've been like this
Jesus & Mary Chain-----Head On