Know your constituency...

In less than one month there will be elections in Lebanon, and there is no escaping the electoral campaigns. Posters for candidates/parties running in the different districts are literally everywhere, usually with either insanely stupid or offensive slogans, or just plain old ‘n’ boring faces of (old) men. But then there is Michel Mouawad. He is the son of MP Nayla Mouawad and former president René Mouawad, originally from the town of Zgharta. Michel himself is therefore running in the district of Zgharta, but I guess he spends most of his time in Beirut, considering this poster from his campaign:

We see a girl with one Lebanese flag on her cheek and one in her hand, presumably at a ‘pro-government’ (March 14) rally, on the left, and a guy with a gun and a yellow flag next to him, so presumably ‘opposition’ (March 8), on the right. Himself part of the March 14ers, Michel Mouawad’s question to his constituents is: ‘Who resembles you more?’ Keeping in mind that the last time a popular politician from Zgharta (Michel's rival Sleiman Toni Frangieh) became a minister in the government, the following party erupted in his hometown to celebrate his new position…

… I guess Mouawad either doesn’t know his people, or he’s appealing to a small minority of Zgharta’s voters. Neither of those is a very smart election strategy, if you ask me.

This quite aptly describes my current situation

To think that I was warned over and over again that any Lebanese boyfriend I would have would only want me for one thing: my nationality, and a residence permit for my country. And now I'm drinking from that same cup... oh irony!

Of three little boys who wanted to make a movie

I saw this short movie by Hany Abu Assad (maker of Paradise Now) last year at a film festival in Beirut, and I loved it.I'm glad to have found it online (and I suggest you watch it in full-screen mode):

It's a Classic!

Did I get it right? Did I manage to get every single myth and stereotype of Beirut into one picture? I would almost think so:

- A church AND a mosque in one shot? Check - An ugly, modern high-rise juxtaposed with an old crappy building? Check - Some reconstruction going on? Check - A bit of nature and (almost) sunset to add a romantic atmosphere? Check

Seems like I’ve got a classic on my hands here.

And for some more ‘we all know what Beirut is like’, head over to this blog: Jad Aoun is handing out ‘Looks Like Beirut Awards'. Brilliant.

Libanopoly, or: be your own Saniora

A while ago on a sunny evening-walk, we passed an old, crowded toy store. As we’d been trying to find affordable board games, we hopped in. The owner of the store told us he had been a shopkeeper in Ras Beirut since 1983 – and he had the photos to prove it.

He also had a very large selection of toys and games, ranging from fake barbies to small tanks made from shiny bullets glued into shape. He also had the Lebanese version of Monopoly: Libanopoly. Only 13500 liras (about $9), for the deluxe edition! That game was coming home with us.

Unfortunately ‘deluxe’ turned out to be a euphemism, seeing that the game had a grand total of 4 plastic thingies to represent the players, a collection of melted plastic squares representing the Beirut housing market and a total absence of 50-lira bills, but that’s like living here in real life: adapt, find a solution and play (live) on!

The best part, of course, are the inevitable jokes: can I run up a debt of 40 billion dollars? If another player threatens my position, can I blow up his token? I can probably build more than the maximum allowed number of houses on this street, right? That, and the fact that Hamra Street is the most expensive street on the board. I’ve always known I live in a classy neighborhood…