30 LL: A Lebanese Podcast for Hommos-Sapiens

As we witness our country regress into previously unimaginable lows, I wonder, what does the future hold for us.
Specifically, what’s in store for the proverbial human sponges of this era, the little ones absorbing every single drop of edited history in the making.

I say edited to avoid saying words like engineered, falsified, fabricated, well you get the idea.

So what’s gonna happen with all those kids carefully listening & watching?
I’d bet the mortgage and a whole lot of possessions they’ll grow to become very much like us. And if you’re one to read into the recent scary spike of sectarian-based dislike, disdain, hatred, execration, loathing, abhorrence, abomination, contempt, odium -Google is my friend too-, if you’re one to read into those recent occurrences, you’d probably come to the conclusion that today’s castaway children will be worse off than we are today.

Growing up, I didn’t recall people around me ever caring about religions or sects. I’ve been around people who sang for Hakeem, honked for el General (and sexy babes in tiny bikinis offering cheap car washes for Charity), people who clapped for Berri, some that coined catchphrases for the eyes of Hariri, and others that baked killer brownies and invited Walid Jumblatt over.

But there were very little references of direct sectarian hate.

It’s different today.

I’ve seen people calling for boycotting certain businesses because they belong to someone from a certain sect/religion, and as an auto-assumption, belonging to a certain political current that represents that sect/religion.

Here’s a quick Lebanon 101 for those who need it. Our system of governance says we have to share power according to certain criteria.
I thought to myself, would an outsider know these criteria, I bet they won’t!
So I asked strangers about it and sure enough, they did not know. I got answers ranging from abilities to qualifications to experience to popular representation.
All worthy components of a selection process in a normal country.

Of course, and you saw that coming, we the Lebanese do not have a normal country. Not because it’s abnormal -and it is abnormal- but because it’s only vaguely a country.

We, the Lebanese, have COLLECTIVELY agreed that as a form of governance, there is a lot more weight to your sect than you abilities, qualifications, experience, or popular representation.

Let’s revisit what belonging to a certain sect means: Being accidentally born into that sect.
I stress born into because under the same system of governance, switching sects or religions means infiltration to some and treason to others, and either of those outcomes effectively makes the person upgrading his or her religion unelectable (in post-modern lingo: less like Hillary and more like Obama).

This also means, being stupid BUT Maronite Christian outweighs being smart BUT Shiaa when it comes to the presidency, being stupid BUT shiaa outweighs being smart BUT sunni for the speaker of the parliament position, and being stupid BUT sunni outweighs being smart BUT Maronite when talking about the prime minister slot.

Religions and sects in Lebanon can be advantageous privileges or good-for-nothing handicaps.

Today’s young ones were not only born into the same sectarian system we inherited.
They’re now living the sectarian-based hate.
They’re absorbing the accusations of treachery from all sides to all sides.

They are today’s sponges and the liquids they’re absorbing are tenfolds more venomous than the water we drank as kids.

Last era’s sponges are being squeezed today and we’re all witnessing the results.
I’m very reluctant to imagine what’s going to come out when this era’s little ones are squeezed 20 years from today.

My 30LL,
Ali

Lebanese-Americans scoff at explanation of behavior
By Yvonne Abraham for The Boston Globe | May 24, 2006

Sympathy for Dr. Robert M. Haddad was in short supply yesterday at Bay Sweets Market in West Roxbury , where Lebanese customers were stocking up on olives and spinach pies.

Disapproval, rolling eyes, and mirth, on the other hand, were plentiful.

Female employees at Caritas Christi Health Care System have said that Haddad, president of the system, hugged them, kissed them on the lips, rubbed their backs, and called them late at night. Haddad issued a statement Monday saying that his behavior was an extension of his Lebanese heritage, “where hugs and kisses are not only expected, but warmly given and received,” and that the behavior was misinterpreted by his accusers.

That explanation was met with skepticism and laughter among Lebanese-Americans at Bay Sweets and beyond.

“Shame on him,” said Fayze Ishac, spitting out the words in Arabic, when told of Haddad’s situation. “It’s not Lebanese. It’s not true.”

“This man is the exception,” she continued in English. “It’s not our culture.”

Sure, the Lebanese-Americans agreed, they are affectionate, free with friendly hugs and kisses — on the cheeks — for people they know and love.

But this? There is a name for the transgressions of which Haddad is accused, and it’s not “being Lebanese,” they said.

“This is harassment,” said Wally Zainoun, a Newton business owner gathering up oranges and olive oil. “I don’t like that, saying because he is Lebanese, he is kissing his employees [on the lips]. Why is it because he is Lebanese? It’s part of our culture to show our warmth with kisses. I don’t see a problem with that. But no. Not on the lips! That’s unacceptable, whether you’re Lebanese or Chinese or whatever.”

A customer who refused to give his name said he thought Haddad showing affection to employees was perfectly fine, and he blamed America’s litigious culture for Haddad’s predicament.

But Jay Zahr, who owns Bay Sweets, laughed when he heard that Haddad had explained the accusations using his heritage.

“He can kiss his own daughter, but not somebody else’s daughter,” Zahr said.

“On the mouth?” asked his wife, Aida, who was helping him behind the counter.

“I’m not against kissing, but I’m against harassment,” Zahr said. “It does reflect badly on us. He uses it as an alibi, and that’s no good.”

A specialist on Arabic culture, Leila Fawaz, professor of history at Tufts University’s Fares Center for Eastern Mediterranean studies, was asked for a reaction to the statement released by Haddad.

She laughed for some time.

“Mediterranean people are more demonstrative in general, but he has been in this country how many years?” she finally asked.

“Oh, forget it,” she said, when told that Haddad, 52, was born and raised in Medford. “I never met someone from any Lebanese background, here or abroad, who would kiss a woman he doesn’t know on the lips, so this is very bizarre.”

Haddad has years of experience in the workplace, and he should know better, no matter his heritage, said Fawaz, who was born in Lebanon.

“This man is an American, working in a professional setting in America,” Fawaz said. “It makes no sense if he thinks he can even see a woman in his office without keeping his door open, let alone touch a finger on her. As far as Lebanese culture is concerned, this is far-fetched.”

The men interviewed yesterday said there are clear limits on how affectionate a Lebanese man can be.

“I always hug people,” said Nick Abraham, a Boston lawyer whose parents were Lebanese immigrants. “If there’s a lady involved I might kiss her on the cheek. But I would not kiss anyone on the lips, and no Lebanese man that I know who is a gentleman would do that. That doesn’t seem to be friendliness. That’s more intimate.”

Several Lebanese-Americans said Haddad’s statement had tainted their image.

“We are known to be very accurate, we are disciplined, we act with dignity and are very straight in all,” said Zainoun. “Lebanese are people who act wth dignity and honor, and there is no way they do such things. . . . This guy seems to be disrupting the reputation of Lebanese people. That’s not nice.”

Moving up, it just so happens, was on Forbes.com’s list of the World’s Most Dangerous Destinations.

We’re now in the top 10 worldwide!

I couldn’t believe it, wasn’t the summer of 2007 one of the good tourism seasons in Lebanon? Despite the recent Israeli-Lebanese war that caused massive infrastructure destruction, despite a long confrontation between the Lebanese army and the terrorist Fatah al Islam in North Lebanon, and lest we forget, there’s this ongoing dispute between the government and its allies and the opposition, one that caused downtown Beirut, one of the most vibrant tourism venues, to be paralyzed.

I guess we made it all look better, what with all the funky plastic surgery loans offered to the Lebanese by “respected” banking institutions.

In recent years, Lebanon’s made headlines for all the wrong reasons -including the above photo- and you’d have to assume tourism took a hit.

Here’s Forbes.com’s profile on dangerous Lebanon:

Control Risks: High security risk, and medium terrorism and travel risk.

With the country divided by pro- and anti-Syrian forces, Lebanon is struggling to manage political tensions. Assassinations of high-profile leaders and military battles with Israel in southern Lebanon have made this difficult. Unless stability is restored, Control Risks foresees more assassinations, civil unrest and armed conflict.

Again, “Unless stability is restored, Control Risks foresees more assassinations, civil unrest and armed conflict.”
Who knew Einstein & Sherlock worked for Forbes.com?

Here’s the strange part, sure tourism took a hit because of all the unrest, but I’d bet a whole lot that was strictly foreign tourism. ie.: Sven the Sweedish chef chose to go to the Maldives because Lebanon was just too risky, and asparagus was hard to come by in Lebanon at that time of the year.

But all the Lebanese immigrants across the world were unfazed and flocked to Lebanon’s summertime like they usually do.

Although 2007 was mostly a bad year in terms of tourism (and everything else really) in Lebanon, five star hotels had very high occupancy ratings.
The Daily Star reported back in December 29th, 2007: Tourism, one of the pillars of the economy, fell by more than 25 percent in the first 10 months, although it picked up quickly in the last two months of this year. Most five-star hotels in Beirut reported over 65 percent room occupancy on Christmas Eve.

Which tells us one thing, if we are going to die, we want to do it in a posh five star hotel, sipping Dom Perignon and chewing insanely expensive salted cashew nuts.

It makes things look better, just like a cosmetic surgery loan would.

Ali // 30LL.org

Click here to read a recent article by political analyst and columnist Roula Talj. The article appeared in the Lebanese political satire magazine Addabour.

Sect Symbols
Annia Ciezadlo

For most Westerners, the words “downtown Beirut” conjure up two distinct images: a farrago of bullet-scarred buildings, car bombs and machine-gun-toting militiamen, and a glitzy, picturesque pedestrian mall. Nobody remembers Wadi Abu Jamil, the old Jewish quarter of downtown Beirut, a warren of winding alleys, antique Ottoman and French Mandate houses, and a lonely crumbling synagogue. By the mid-1990s, it was home to everything the Lebanese government would rather forget. Most of those who lived there were Shiites from the south of Lebanon, routed from their homes by the Israeli occupation and shunted into the neglected neighborhood by a city that didn’t want them.

But somebody wanted Wadi Abu Jamil. Solidere, the private company that had the contract to rebuild the city center, was determined to raze the old downtown by any means necessary. So when the Ayad family refused to leave their home in February 1996, Solidere dispatched a crew of Syrian and Egyptian guest workers to begin tearing down the four-story building–with the family still inside. As the laborers began to dismantle the building, not surprisingly it collapsed. Seven workmen and six of the Ayads, including a 2-year-old boy and a 3-month-old baby, were crushed to death by the march of reconstruction.

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