Beiteddine and Deir al-Qamar

Over Easter weekend Jeff and I took a trip into Lebanon's Chouf mountains to get away from the noise of the city for a little bit. It's amazing how much cooler the air feels in the mountains. It felt like we were vast distances away from Beirut, but we could still see the sea from the terrace of our hotel, so we weren't really that far inland.

We visited Beiteddine palace, built in the early 1800s for an emir, or Ottoman-era governor, and still used at times in the summer by important Lebanese officials. There were some really ornate rooms inside.

Most of the rooms were locked, so we had to get a guide to take us around and unlock them. He also doubled as a photographer.

There is a second palace up the hill from Beiteddine, where the Emir's son lived. It has now been turned into a hotel, and that's where we stayed. It wasn't as fancy as you're probably imagining, (think drafty old stone building with 1960s-era plumbing) but it did have a nice view and a fountain in which one could cool one's toes after a day of sightseeing.

The nearby village of Deir al-Qamar is down the hill from Beiteddine.

It's a lovely little town, and we had a good time just wandering down the streets, getting a good falafel sandwich, and watching workers decorate the Church of Saidet at-Talle for Easter. They were filling it with huge white roses, and one of the workers gave me one...or rather he gave it to Jeff to give to me. The church was built on the foundation of a seventh-century temple to the goddess Astarte, and then repurposed for Christianity. I love thinking about the pagan foundations of so many churches here; what a sense of history.

All in all it was a lovely trip, and well worth the hair-raising hour-long taxi ride down windy mountain roads to get back to Beirut!

Washer!

There is only one "self-serve," "coin-operated" landromat in Beirut. I say "coin-operated" because you have to pay the attendant, and then he operates it for you. It is "self-serve" in the sense that there are, in fact, two washers that you can pay the attendant to use. That is, you can if they are not broken or down due to one of the daily power outages. I quickly began to understand why people just drop off their laundry rather than trying to do it themselves. The only trouble is that when you drop it off, they jam all the laundry from your huge bag into one tiny machine, and it doesn't get very clean. Add to that the fact that the laundromat is quite expensive and a long, awkward walk from home, and I started to earnestly desire the ability to do laundry at home while working. So Jeff and I took a cab to the big home appliance place in Beirut and bought one! It just got delivered today, and it seems to be doing fine. Like most Beirutis, we're just hanging it up inside to dry.

It feels very festive to be able to do laundry at home. Yay!

Springtime in Syria

I know it has been ages since I've updated my blog. My only excuse is the usual one: spring semester, in Beirut as everywhere else, seems to be especially busy and tiring. In its quest to acknowledge the holidays of multiple religious sects, AUB's calendar only gave us a couple weeks off after fall semester, and so everyone is feeling a bit frazzled by now. Classes are going well, and I am advising a couple Master's theses for the first time, so I'm staying busy.

However, we did recently get two long weekends in a row, in commemoration of both Western and Eastern Orthodox Easters, and so Jeff and I took a trip to Damascus. It was really exciting finally getting to visit Syria, and we had a great time visiting some historic sites, such as an old, ornate mosque where I had to put on a beige druid-like robe that the attendant handed me before I could go in.

Damascus is also known for its souks, or markets, and it was fun looking at the piles of nuts and spices some of the vendors had for sale.



We took a trip to the nearby town of Maalula, where the local people still speak Aramaic, an ancient language I thought was dead. We visited a church which had formerly been a pagan temple. When they redecorated, the Christians replaced the church's pagan altar that had a hole in the middle of it to drain off the blood of sacrifices. The tour guide there prayed aloud in Aramaic, which was neat to hear. Also in Maalula, we visited another ancient church that was actually just a walled-in cave. It has a tree growing in it, as well as a holy water basin that is continually replenished by the water seeping out of the rock itself. Pretty neat.





The town of Maalula itself was lovely, too, perched on some
desert cliffs.

All in all, we had a wonderful time looking around and getting to meet some incredibly friendly Syrian people.

Teaching the American Wilderness

Lest you think that my life in Beirut is an endless series of vacations and cooking experiments, I wanted to share some reflections on my first week of second-semester classes. As I've mentioned before, the academic calendar here is a bit out of sync with the U. S. schedule. Our second semester just started mid-February, and will continue into June. I'm teaching some good courses this semester: one on the novel as a genre, a reprise of my fall-semester American literature survey course (read: no new prep!), and a new course called "The American Wilderness."
 
The wilderness course is a new one I'm developing, and I'm told that nothing similar has ever been offered at AUB, which is neat. It is listed in the catalog as both an English and an American Studies course. We're covering a lot of ground, so to speak: The first part of the course investigates the intellectual, legal, and literary history of the wilderness idea in the U. S.  The second part of the course will focus on the way wilderness is managed as public land. This will include lots of conversation about the Park Service and a case study or two about the dilemmas faced by park management. The third part of the course will look at the ways in which wilderness is simulated and represented in 21st-century popular culture.
 
I am also trying to get students to compare the role of wilderness in the U.S. with the role of natural spaces here in Lebanon. To that end I've invited a guest speaker from a local conservation non-profit to talk to the class about conservation efforts in Lebanon. It's really interesting to see the very recent emphasis on hiking trails and nature preserves and think about how important peaceful natural places must be to a country used to decades of war.
 
So far, students have been engaged and enthusiastic in class. We started off talking about the Rocky Mountain Arsenal National Wildlife Refuge. No, that's not a typo--it is a former chemical weapons factory and Superfund site that the U.S. Army handed over to the US Fish and Wildlife Service in 2004. It is now billed as "the nation's most ironic nature preserve." As you might imagine, it provided lots of fodder for discussion. Some students mentioned the oil spills and environmental degradation that resulted in Lebanon from the civil war, which was a good reminder for me of how wilderness and natural areas are often-overlooked casualties of violence.
 
Of course, not everything has gone smoothly in class. For one thing, I assigned the Thoreau's classic "Ktaadn" section of his book The Maine Woods. I'd forgotten that the passage I assigned begins with him breakfasting on "some raw pork" along with a "wafer of hard bread." In a city where getting pork products of any kind can be quite a challenge, I imagined students throwing down the essay in disgust when they read that Henry David was chowing down not only on the flesh of swine, but the RAW flesh of swine. Surprisingly, though, no one brought it up in class.
 
Even though I myself had not been dining on raw pork or anything similar,  I had a mild stomach bug earlier in the week (I'm fine now--it was just a 24 hour thing). In an uncanny replay of my first week of fall semester classes, I taught my American Wilderness class while feeling like my stomach was a wilderness of its own. I made it through 40 minutes of my 50 minute class before I hastily dismissed the students and then...well, let's just say that I was very glad there was a trash can in the corner of the classroom. Talk about embarrassing teaching moments! As I stood there in the corner clutching the trash can I heard one student say, "Oh, I wondered why we were getting out early." Ha!
 
Aside from that little incident, though, I must say that I'm pleased with my classes this semester. I'm glad to have the opportunity to see what the American wilderness looks like through the eyes of my Lebanese undergrads. And when I get some free time, I'll work on my baba ghanoush technique and start thinking about where to travel during Easter break!

Baba Ghanoush

On Sunday Jeff and I went on another hike with a local hiking group. In the course of our trek, we chatted with an ex-pat American woman who had attended a demostration of some traditional Lebanese cooking techniques. One of the things she'd learned was a traditional method of making baba ghanoush, the delicious eggplant dip with a mildly smoky flavor that tastes so good on flat bread. She told us that the best way to cook the eggplant before squishing it up into dip was to simply roast it over an open flame, peel the charred skin off, and then voila--eggplant dip.
 
I decided to give the technique a try. I covered the stovetop with foil, as I knew the roasting process would be a messy proposition. With the aid of a fork stuck in either end of the eggplant, I plopped it right on the burner and waited to see what happened. Sure enough, the skin began to crinkle and char, and juices began to bubble out through holes cut in the skin. I kept turning the eggplant much as you would with a marshmallow over a campfire. Although the woman told us that it took about 30 minutes to roast a whole eggplant, mine seemed to lose all structural integrity after about 15 minutes. It just flopped messily whenever I tried to turn it, and I feared that at any moment it would fall apart completely. So I took it off the burner, let it steam in a covered glass dish for about 10 minutes, and then cut it open.
 
As I peeled the blackened skin off it, I observed that the outside flesh was nice and mushy, but the inside was still pretty stringy. I should have let it roast for the whole thirty minutes! Nonetheless, I tried to leave the stringiest bits out and did my best to mash up the rest with a fork. I then added some tahini, olive oil, lemon juice (from a lemon from a Druze woman's lemon tree; a souvenir from an earlier hike), and garlic and stirred it all up the best I could. It ended up looking like the baba ghanoush you'd see in a restaurant, but when you stick a fork in it, you discover that it is as stringy as the guts of a pumpkin. Next time I'll definitely let it cook longer.
 
Oh, and in the last photo, Jeff shows off how appetizing the fresh eggplant looked before I started roasting it to death!
 

Flowers!

I just had to post a photo of the beautiful flowers that my Aunt, Uncle, and cousins sent me for my birthday. Aren't they beautiful? They were delivered to the English department office at school, and the office staff said they were glad to be able to enjoy them for a few hours before I picked them up and took them home. They coveted them, I'm sure! The yellow roses, lillies, and purple something-or-others look stunning together. It is amazing to think that my family in the US can order a beautiful arrangement and have a Beirut florist deliver it right to my office. It makes the world seem that much smaller. Now my apartment has an extra dose of color and a delicious rosy scent. Thanks Auntie and Unckie!

Egypt (and my Birthday!)

While the east coast was suffering through icy winter temperatures, I snuck out of Beirut for a few days and made for an even sunnier spot: Egypt! Jeff and I were able to get away for nearly a week during the short semester break, and it was a wonderful trip.
 
As we prepared to land in Cairo, Jeff reminded me that Egypt is, in fact, in Africa. I know I shouldn't need to be reminded of such things, but in the excitement of preparing to see the pyramids and such, I overlooked the fact that I would be visiting a continent I've never seen before. That made stepping off the plane into the Cairo sunshine all the more exciting.
 
We got up early the next morning and headed for Giza to see the pyramids and the Sphinx. Jeff's friend Paula had forewarned us that the approach to the pyramids is not a long and dusty walk through the desert, but rather a simple cab ride through what looks like just another urban neighborhood. And that's exactly right: before I even knew to look for them, there the pyramids were, looming large over the bustling streets of Giza. Our timing was perfect: we arrived before the hoards of tour buses and were able to ascend the steep and very small chute up into the burial chamber of the Great Pyramid. It was really neat being up inside the structure that I had seen so many times in photos. When we got into the burial chamber there was a group of New Age Scandinavian tourists meditating and doing what looked like yoga while communing with...something or other. After we had our look around, we descended the chute, only this time there were big groups of tourists coming up the other way. I didn't think we'd fit, but we did. It was pretty tight, though. After looking at the pyramids, we walked down to see the Sphinx. It was just as neat as I'd imagined. I especially like the way its tail wraps all the way around its back.
 
Once back in Cairo, we saw some neat old Coptic Christian churches, and also visited a mosque. I'd never been in one before, and had to buy a scarf to put over my head before I went in. Jeff went in the men's side, and I went in the women's side. The women's side was a tiny room jam-packed with women looking through a plexiglass window at some object (possibly the Quran, but I couldn't get close enough to tell) in a silver cage. The men's side sounded a lot more spacious. In any case, the blue sparkly scarf stayed with me for the rest of the trip. You never know when you'll need to cover up!
 
As if our legs weren't tired enough after climbing around inside the pyramid, we spent the next day walking through the immense and mildly disorienting Egyptian Museum. We made a beeline for the royal mummy room and checked out all the meticulously preserved bodies of the pharohs. It was pretty astounding to see how well preserved they were, though the comments on the exhibits about how decayed King So-and-so's teeth were struck me as mildly rude. How would you like to have tourists looking at your cavities after you're gone?!
 
We were about to leave the museum thinking we'd seen everything when we stumbled upon the room containing all the treasure from King Tut's tomb. Seeing the gold mask of the boyish King Tut was really powerful: again, it was something I'd seen images of for years, so it was really neat to see it.
 
The next day we took a cab ride out to some even more ancient sites: the step pyramid of Sakkara, which predates those at Giza (note: Jeff took the above nice photo of it!), and some pyramids in Dashur. We climbed way down into the burial chamber of that pyramid, and got caught in a sandstorm when we got out, with the wind blowing grit everywhere. We sought refuge in our cab and went next to the museum at Memphis. No, there was no bust of Elvis in Memphis, but there was a statue of Ramses II, also known as Ozymandius. The Shelley sonnet of the same name was inspired by a different statue, but I couldn't help thinking of it just the same.
 
The other neat thing about that day was that it was my birthday. I thought about the same day one year before when I was eating homemade chocolate cake and watching "Life on Mars" with my friend Karen in Maine (thanks, Karen!). That night as Jeff and I stood and watched the Nile flow by, I felt very fortunate to have friends and adventures on multiple continents.
 
The rest of the trip was great, too: climbing up into the minaret of a mosque and seeing the city stretched out before us, watching men balance huge trays of flatbread on their heads, and wandering through a colorful and chaotic market. It was a great way to spend my birthday, too. Maybe I'll try for a new continent next year!