Zondag, in Utrecht

A.S. Zondag (14 Juni) van 14.00 tot 18.00u. in de F.C. Dondersstraat in Utrecht: een benefiet voor Gaza. Workshops, films, verhalen... genoeg te doen om er een kijkje te nemen. Ga en steun Gaza!

And the winner is... (just a comparison)

Compare the ballot of the Dutch parliamentary elections (where each voter gets to choose ONE person):

…to the two ballots (different districts) for the Lebanese parliamentary elections – in the district of the left ballot, voters choose five people, in the district of the right, they choose TEN.

libanees-stembiljet

This is not a giant hand - the ballots are really this small. I guess this is the first time the Lebanese win the trophy for efficiency and environment-friendliness...

So many times when it could have gone wrong

If I hadn’t been ditched by someone, I wouldn’t have felt the need to do something interesting with my lifeIf I hadn’t felt the need to do something interesting with my life, I wouldn’t have gone to the international bureau of the University of Amsterdam to ask about programs in the Middle East If I hadn’t gone to the international bureau of the University of Amsterdam to ask about programs in the Middle East, I wouldn’t have seen the last call for applications for New York University If I hadn’t seen the last call for applications for New York University, I wouldn’t have applied to the Africana Studies program If I hadn’t applied to the Africana Studies program at NYU, I wouldn’t have met Professor Khan If I hadn’t met Professor Khan, I wouldn’t have stayed an extra semester at NYU If I hadn’t stayed an extra semester at NYU, I wouldn’t have moved in with my Lebanese friend If I hadn’t moved in with my Lebanese friend, I wouldn’t have been invited to spend the summer of 2005 in Lebanon If I hadn’t been invited to spend the summer of 2005 in Lebanon, I wouldn’t have done the research for my masters in Anthropology in Beirut in 2006 If I hadn’t done the research for my masters in Anthropology in Beirut in 2006, I wouldn’t have lived through a war with Israel If I hadn’t lived through a war with Israel, my Israeli friend in Amsterdam wouldn’t have felt guilty for what I lived through If my Israeli friend in Amsterdam wouldn’t have felt guilty about what I had lived through, she wouldn’t have invited me and her fellow PhD-student from Lebanon who lived through the same thing for lunch If she hadn’t invited me and her fellow PhD-student for lunch, we wouldn’t have organized a falafel-dinner together If we hadn’t organized a falafel dinner together…

Let's say I'm glad we did. Happy two-year anniversary, my love.

Ondertussen, zo’n 200 kilometer verderop...

Vandaag is het Hariri-Tribunaal begonnen in Den Haag (of, om precies te zijn, Leidschendam). Het is te hopen dat de rechters, advocaten en aanklagers een betere topografische kennis van Nederland hebben dan de journalisten die vanuit Libanon zijn overgekomen om de verslaglegging te verzorgen:

Dat vierkante tekstwolkje zegt ‘La Haye’: Den Haag. De laatste keer dat ik in Nederland was, heette die stad nog Maastricht...

Move Your Feet

The sunny days of the past week have reminded me of summer in Lebanon, and got me reminiscing about the many nights we spent in Barometre, a small pub here in Hamra. When the nights are hot and the bar is so full the people spill out onto the terrace all the way to the street, there is always the moment that the dabkeh starts. It’s either a particular song, or someone comes in with a big drum and beats the right rhythm, and then the men get in line and start dancing. It’s one of those things I really like about Lebanese men, that they are not afraid to dance, and that they do so with more grace than a broken robot.

Dabkeh is usually danced at weddings and other (family-)gatherings, not in bars, but in Barometre people insist on doing this traditional dance. Although often a men-only affair, women can and do participate in it as well. Some parts are slow, some parts are faster, and sometimes the jumping and moving of the feet goes so fast I can do nothing but sit and stare in awe. It looks something like this:

(warning: the quality of image and sound is not perfect, but the spirit of dabkeh is captured perfectly [edited to add: the original video was removed from YouTube, so below is a new one!])

Watching this makes me remember the summer-camp we organized at the NGO in South Lebanon where I used to work. On the last day, a contingent of Italian UNIFIL soldiers passed by to see what was going on, just as a group of teenage boys was performing a dance for the other participants. Rather than getting all self-conscious, the boys made it an even bigger show, and even invited the Italians to join. Mediterranean as they are, of course they immediately took the opportunity to dance, dancing along outside on a field in the sun.

How unfortunate, I thought, that Dutch boys don’t know how to dance. That most of them are too shy, or too self-conscious to move to the music together with others. But then I remembered the hype of a little while ago… and it turns out they do dance! And it’s not even that different from the Lebanese dabkeh!

I passed it off as Dutch folklore to my Arabic teachers, and they totally believed me…