Of Soldiers and Murderers
Trip Start
Jun 30, 2008
1
11
17
Trip End
Aug 22, 2008
Baalbeck,
Lebanon
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
We'd had a long day, traveling from Tripoli, on the Mediterranean, to Baalbeck via a ceder reserve. We'd driven to 3300 meters, the top of the Mt. Lebanon range, and down into the large valley between the latter range and the anti-Syrian range (which, as you can imagine, borders Syria. In this valley you find Baalbeck , and it is not what you expect. Thoughts of Hezbollah HQ conjure up images of bearded men at checkpoints which bristle with guns, multiple passport checks, a suspicions of outsiders, no alcohol in the stores, women dressed in conservative Islamic dress
The Gang: Andrew, Nick, Joe (from left)
. All this is not the case. No security checks, friendly people, alcohol sold in stores, women wearing nothing conservative etc. Anyway, we'd seen the temples, the columns, the sites, and the Hezbollah kitsch they sell outside those sites. We'd eaten dinner, visited an internet cafe, and had returned to our hotel to find that the power had gone out in the neighborhood. At 11 we decided to go out to find a place to smoke hookah, but to no avail - Baalbeck shuts down early. So we bought a few bags of chips and some drinks and walked back to our neighborhood to sit on a bench overlooking some of the ruins (though with the lights out we were sitting in near pitch black darkness.) We sat, passing different types of chips back and forth, not know which one's we liked, and constantly changing our minds about which type we liked best, being unable to see what type we were eating. After a while power returned to the neighborhood, and the deserted streets were illuminated by the lampposts. As we sat there, the occasional car or motorcycle passing us by, one of the latter stopped in front of us. The two men riding on it, dismounted, crossed the road, introduced themselves and squatted down in front of our bench.
The one with the most English, the leader of the two, was named Shatbi
Tallest Columns in the World
. He was a native to Baalbeck , perhaps 30 years old, closely shaved beard, greased back hair, eagle ta toe on his upper right arm, wearing a brown t-shirt, blue-jeans, leather boots and a khaki vest. His friend, name unknown, had a closely cropped head of hear, clean shaven , couldn't be a day over 26 and wore a white, muscle-gripping t-shirt, blue jeans and black pointy leather boots. After the usual where where are you from, did you study Arabic etc., we were asked where we headed, and, upon hearing the name Syria, Shatbi announced his complete disgust for Syrian
people. Politics, naturally ensued, including issues about the civil war and the occupation of Lebanon by Syrian troops. Shatbi told us that he couldn't go to Syria because after Harrir died in 2005, there were protests in Baalbeck during which a Syrian was killed, so they blacklisted people in the town.
He works in Dubai as a manager at a cleaning company, but he's been back for four months and is waiting to return. He makes $3,200 a month there, but has no ability to save as everything is very expensive. He has a love hate relationship with Lebanon and with Baalbeck . The people changes (or he changed after being in Dubai) and now he loves it, because it is home, but he hates it, because there is 'no scene here, man, and no money.'
His friend is in the army. He's just come from Beirut where he was guarding the American Embassy. He only gets paid $300 a month, but, after being in for 20 years, he can retire and receive a pension.
Interspersed with our conversation were offers to get some hashish to smoke from his motorcycle,
cigarettes, to go get some beer, or to take his motorcycle for a ride (i.e
Peak of the Mt. Lebanon Range
. we drive.) Every once in a while, someone would drive by in a car or on a motorcycle, and say high in passing. He told us, and it seemed true, that he knew everyone and was the big boss around the neighborhood. One man was pointed out to us as belonging to Hezbollah 'but he's not a bad man, Hezbollah is not bad. you see this sign (gesturing to a large HB poster memorializing a leader slain in Syria) they do this, but they don't stop the people from drinking, all they do is defend Lebanon in the south. Believe me man, wallah, they are good.' He explained how Lebanon was good, because the Christians pray for the Muslims and the Muslims pray for the Christians. 'But in Baalbeck , no Christians, so it is no good.' He seemed to be saying that a diversity of religious groups living together was good. When we told him that tomorrow we'd be heading to Syria, the conversation took a turn which I will attempt to recount accurately.
'It's a bad place, bad people, I don't like. When the army here (referring to the occupation of Lebanon by the Syrian Army) they take my car, my house, my money. Then, after Hariri (referring to that ex-politicians assassination - See pictures of the bombing site), I see this man, who takes my stuff, and he is leaving
Lebanese Cedar from below
. All Syrian people are leaving. I see him from a hundred meters, on the street over there, and I (motions pulling a gun from his waistband) and I 'ba ba ba .' We're all unsure of what to say next, except Nick, who, without missing a beat, says 'Did you get your car back?' 'No, I didn't get it back, but this why I can no longer go to Syria.' Things pretty much devolved from there. He explained how he had bought an M4 in Beirut recently, and when he had trouble explaining that he'd bought a gun, his friend, showed us a picture of it on his cellphone. His friend, the soldier, then went searching for files on his cellphone while his friend said to us 'Do you know Fata al -Islami in Tripolie' He was referring to the Palestinian organizations that operate in the Palestinian refuge camps around Tripoli. In the last two months there has been some heavy fighting between the Lebanese army and these organizations, including Fatah al -Islami . to the extent that one refugee camp was completely cleared of people. One this introductory explanation was given, we were handed the phone on which the soldier had recorded videos. The first, I guess, would be called a trophy video - the face of some Fatah fighter, half of whose face had been crushed into the other half after or before being shot diagonally across the face, blood everywhere. In the second, two wounded people, covered in their own blood, lay on the floor with a group of soldiers standing around them.
I wonder why he'd shot them -- the videos that is. Perhaps it's the ubber rubbernecking for the ultimate car crash in life. Doubly fascinating because the soldier is one shot away from being in the his enemy's video. It's a mirror or looking-glass, through which one can glimpse the other paths in, or rather out of, life.
Once you reach this point in a conversation you simply nod, seem interested and hope they don't show you any more, which they didn't. In fact, Shatbi seemed to think this was all horrible but life in Lebanon. 'This is Lebanon (shrug) it sucks.' After that we chatted for a while, Perhaps some of the discussion I've reported as prior to these two conversation turning-points took place after them, but it's a bit of a blur which pivots around hose two axies . Eventually they had to leave because the soldier had to go to bed. We sat, collecting ourselves, before heading into our hotel to sleep, but first, to write this.
