I spent New Year's Eve 2008 at a Dunkin' Donuts in Beirut with a group of strangers, drinking a wonderfully hot cup of green tea. How did this come to pass? It all began when I flew back into Beirut having no idea how I was going to spend the next two or three days, which also happened to be the very last day of 2008 and the very first days of 2009. I figured I'd just walk out and let things happen to me, come what may. I was very tired from having slept on a train the night before, and so I quickly garnered a hotel room on the Hamra for a decent price considering it was New Year's Eve, and crashed on the generous-sized bed without setting my alarm.
I woke up a couple hours later and checked my watch: Yikes, it was 10 minutes to midnight! I was about to miss the coming of the New Year in an amazing city like Beirut, no less! I threw on a scarf and coat, and rushed out, throwing out a “happy new year!” to the hotelier at the reception desk. But where was I rushing off too? I hailed a cab and asked him to take me to the waterfront so that I could see the Mediterranean Sea by night one more time. Looking outward, it was dark and more space-like than ever, and the waves were angrier than ever, bursting into white ocean spray like the fireworks set off by a group of teenagers hanging out nearby. Shivering in the freezing night, I wandered down the Corniche and into a posh looking restaurant lobby. Anywhere to avoid frostbite.
“Can I get a cup of tea?”
“Does it look like you can get a cup of tea right now?” the young receptionist pointed at the glass double doors that led to the actual restaurant. Inside, a mad drunken New Year's Eve party was shaking the house down. House music, confetti, and drunken ladies, short silver dresses and black suits, shiny black shoes and shaking stilettos- this was a party for the young and rich. I was young, but not rich.
“Each of those guests payed $200 just to get in.”
Jesus, they must be swimming in champagne.
“Go on in, the party's already started a while ago,” said the receptionist, whose name was Daniel, “You should have come an hour ago- the waves were huge then!”
So I walked in.
Later, once Daniel was released from his work duties, he invited me to come hang out with him and some friends for his own New Years' celebration. In fact, he hadn't made plans because he'd been given the New Year's shift, so that's how we ended up at Dunkin' Donuts in the wee hours of the first morning of 2009. He introduced me to his friends- a brother and sister and their young uncle-, and we all sat down with hot tea or coffee.
The young uncle, happened to have lived in Egypt for years, so I regaled them with tales from my Egypt trip. How we nearly died several times in the crazy traffic while bracing ourselves in taxis, and crossing the streets on foot. How, among the chaos of cars, bicycles, honking, and fumes, you just as well see a donkey's ass or a herd of sheep. Why not? If you don't have a car, but you have a donkey, why not? Anything goes as a mode of transportation in Egypt. And the hassling. Really, the worst form of marketing I've ever experienced. “Donkey? camel? Elephant? Helicopter?” I demanded, imitating the dozens of Egyptian hasslers we had encountered, with their outrageous offerings. I swear one of them offered me a unicorn. But I said no because I was never a fan of single-horned creatures. They will say anything, just to get your attention. They even hassle about not hassling! “No hassle, no hassle! No charge for looking! Just come into my shop, take your time, I promise, no hassle in my shop! No problem, no charge for looking, just come in, no hassle!” We even saw signs over the windows saying advertising “no hassle”. What a reputation these Egyptians have.
“You have to understand, though,” said the young uncle, “Cairo alone is a city of 25 million- and 85% of them are poor.” In a nation in which poverty was the norm, begging has become a business, with the official name of “baksheesh”. Even the cops did it. Despite all the craziness, the young uncle claimed that he missed Cairo. “Compared to Cairo, Beirut is dead. Cairo is so alive! People never sleep, nothing ever shuts down.” Funny...this was exactly what I said about Beirut, compared to Erbil. Talk about relative!
No comments:
Post a Comment