Happiness in the Middle East

It’s the kind of information brought up in the bar, after a few drinks. ‘Hey guys, guess what, I read somewhere that the Lebanese are the least happy people in the Middle East.’ Hilarity all over. Really? Why would the Lebanese people be the unhappiest? Sure, there is a lot of fighting, war, explosions, bad electricity and thieving phone-companies, but still, most Lebanese are convinced they are the envy of the whole region, with everyone being jealous of the beautiful beaches and green mountains and sparkling nightlife and wonderful food… Well, apparently they aren’t. According to this report, the Saudis are the happiest. Speculation ensued over the reason why. The first question was, how could the people from Saudi Arabia and Bahrain be at the top of the list? Surely they must have forgotten to ask the Saudi women about their level of happiness, or maybe they stuck to the law and asked the women’s legal guardians: ‘Excuse me sir, on a scale of 1 to 10, how happy is your wife?’

But how could even the Palestinians rank higher on the happiness-scale? Maybe, it was argued, they were lumped together with the Israelis, and since it’s an Arab survey, they cannot use the name Israel. But would the Israelis be really happy with the way things are going there, even if they currently have the upper hand? ‘Well,’ was the final word on that ‘even if they aren’t, they can’t say so: they are the Chosen People, living in the Promised Land! How can they ever be unhappy?’

From the above arguments, it was deducted that the Lebanese might not be the most unhappy, but are rather the most honest people of the whole Middle East. Either that, or, as someone said, their low ranking should be attributed to their incredibly high expectations and disproportional sense of entitlement. I'm still undecided.

Of seatbelts and bumper cars

In a corner of the Corniche, behind a Chinese $1-store and an ice-cream vendor, is an old amusement park. It is a surreal place, especially at night, when lighting is sparse and the number of visitors low. The rides are old and rusty, clearly suffering from the perpetual spray of salty sea-water, some closed down indefinitely, little carts with paint chipping at the edges. The Ferris wheel is still going, even though it is said that one or two of its gondolas have come crushing down over the years – with or without passengers, nobody really knows the story. A little booth in the middle sells tickets – LL 2000 (€1) for a ride.

And then there are the bumper cars. A recent paint-job makes them shiny and attractive, but don’t be fooled: the seats have given up a long time ago, leaving strands of iron wire over a wooden board which will give you bruises with every bump. But despite the name of the attraction, the Lebanese youngsters who jumped on the little cars when they saw us getting in were not in it for the bumping. They drove like they do in regular traffic: speeding up, swerving around, coming close but never actually hitting the other. They didn’t understand my pleasure at racing straight at them, aiming for a head-on collision… I was having fun; they were practicing for the road.

Yesterday was the first day of Ramadan. It was also the first day that police-men were expected to enforce all the traffic rules: no talking on cell-phones while driving, those in the front seat have to wear a seatbelt, no double parking, and definitely no crossing a red light or driving against traffic. We were even warned at a checkpoint, the week before, that ‘from September 1st, we will fine you if we catch you doing one of these things’. People were speculating as to how this would work out. Would it really happen, Lebanese people sticking to the rules? What would the city look like, without the chaos of traffic?

I still recognized Hamra yesterday, with its stinking, honking collection of cars going up the main street. Yet the service-driver did ask me to put the seatbelt, profusely apologizing for the fact that he didn’t see the need but, you know, enforcement of the rules and all. I didn’t mind, although it wasn’t easy to pull down the belt that probably hadn’t been used in 30 years. Baby-steps towards a more organized Lebanon – I’d like to see where this is going.

Polite conversation, translated.

- Morning of good- Morning of light Two mana’ouche zaatar, if you want - On my head Do you want anything in it? - No, I want your health in it - Love of my heart - Just add some olives for the master - Ok Here you go - May your hands be safeguarded - My dear - With safety - God is with you

(in Snack Faysal, Hamra, Beirut; Friday morning 15 August 2008)

+970

So now we can call to Palestine. Until yesterday, if you wanted to talk to someone in the Occupied Territories, you’d have to call from Lebanon to Jordan, and Jordan would connect you to Gaza, Ramallah or the West Bank. It was the first decision of the new minister of telecommunications of the brand new Lebanese government, to open the lines with some of our Southern neighbors. We still can’t make phone-calls to Israel, though. But Israel can call us. They did, during the war of July 2006, to tell us that we were playing with fire by allowing Hassan Nasrallah to ‘play around in our country’, and that we would burn for it. Not that we didn’t notice already. Apparently they are still doing the telephonic anti-propaganda, because a few days ago Walid’s grandfather picked up the receiver and heard a voice explaining to him in perfect Arabic that really, it’s time to get rid of Hezbollah. The old man, not knowing it was a recording on the other end of the line, gave them a piece of his mind: he would decide who to support and who not.

So what if we could call Israel? Would anyone there listen to political advice from this side of the border?

Hup Holland Hup

At the time of writing, it’s 2 for the Dutch team and 0 for the Italians. I still don’t really understand the excitement that football generates in this country, seeing that the only sport worth a national team is basketball, but tonight there truly is something at stake. No, I don’t say that because it’s my own national team playing. It’s because of their opponent. Look at this… 1968 Italy wins European Championship. and 1968 ‘Operation Gift’: Israel Defense Forces (IDF) commando raid on Beirut International Airport.

1982 Italy wins the World Cup. and 1982 ‘Operation Peace of Galilee’ / First Lebanon War: Israeli invasion of Lebanon, up to and including Beirut, resulting in the occupation of South Lebanon (liberated in 2000).

2006 Italy wins the World Cup. and 2006 ‘Second Lebanon War’. Israel attempts to invade Lebanon, bombs large parts of South Lebanon, Southern Suburbs of Beirut and Bekaa.

See the pattern? It’s mainly for safety reasons that I want the Dutch team to win…