Season's Greetings - last week's worth

Thursday - the Prophet’s Birthday: call all Muslim friends to congratulate them. First check if the Sunnis and Shi’a agree on this date since the Shi’a are always a little later with those things. Friday - Mother’s Day: call all my friend’s mothers who have ever said ‘I am your mother in Lebanon’, plus all my female friends who have children, to congratulate them. Not my own mother, though, because where she lives, Mother’s Day is in May.

Sunday - Easter: call all my Christian friends to congratulate them. Oh wait, no, only my Catholic/Maronite friends, the Orthodox celebrate it three weeks later.

Happy days for everyone. And a big egg from the streets of Damascus (Syria).

Guess what I'll be doing today...

It’s off to the beach, baby!

Other than that: My apologies for those of you who read my site through any type of newsfeed or outside reader and have been seeing rows and rows of awful links at the bottoms of my most recent posts. My blog apparently has a security problem (am working on fixing it), which not only causes these links to appear every few hours, but also turns off the possibility to leave comments. I’m sorry, and I hope it will be repaired soon…

De vrienden van Geert

“Zij komt uit Nederland,” zei de boekhandelaar, en wees naar het boek dat naast de kassa lag. De Engelse versie van Mijn Vrijheid, het boek van Ajaan Hirshi Ali. “Weet ik,” zei ik, “ik ook.” “Jullie hebben daar ook Moslims,” vervolgde de boekhandelaar. “Dus ook problemen.”

Dat was anderhalf jaar geleden.

Dezer dagen is haar boek verplaatst naar de onderste schappen. Nu krijg ik af en toe een vraag over ‘die ene minister van jullie, die een film aan het maken is.’ Denemarken is het land van de cartoons, Nederland het land van de anti-Mohamad-film. De meesten willen vooral weten waarom. “Om te bewijzen dat jullie terroristen zijn”, zeg ik dan maar. “Oh ja,” lachen we dan, “waar is de Nederlandse ambassade eigenlijk?”

ABN-AMRO Tower, 9e Verdieping, Ashrafiyeh, Beiroet; ik hoop dat ze hun rampen-draaiboek klaar hebben liggen. Ga ik vast mijn Belgische paspoort oppoetsen. Of misschien is het slim om voorlopig het gerucht dat ik uit Noorwegen kom niet meer tegen te spreken?

Oh! My Soul!

A while ago I went to Tripoli, in North Lebanon, and bought soap. This was no ordinary soap.

The soap is handmade according to ancient wisdom and practices, all of which are secrets of the soap-makers. But they do explain what makes this soap so extra-special:

Just what my soul needed. And my excitement too.

Just what we needed to hear from the prime minister

Saturday night, message from a friend“Hey, if you are out, be careful, Amal and Moustaqbal are shooting at each other and they torched a Hezbollah post at Ras Naba’a. Please be careful.”

Monday morning, conversation with my boss “Nicolien, you live in the Hamra-neighborhood right? Have you thought about what to do when a war starts? If it comes to war with Israel, there are two scenarios; air and land. If it is land, we will have time to prepare ourselves because they will definitely tell the UN-soldiers first and let the foreigners evacuate. If it is an air-attack, all we can do is wait and hope not to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. If it is civil unrest, you can come to Sour, the Foundation has facilities to shelter its employees coming from dangerous areas.”

Tuesday night, written on the wall of a café “War is like love, it always finds a way. -- Bertolt Brecht”

Wednesday, on the Naharnet newssite “Premier Fouad Saniora has said civil war is unlikely in Lebanon… ‘I don’t think civil war will happen’ he told BBC.”

Very comforting words. Reassuring indeed.