---------------------------------------------- Serious satire "Humor is a funny way of being serious" -Thomas Edison -------------------- To have your emails deleted please write to me at renatoobeid@hotmail.com -------------------- Copyright© 2001-2010, Renato Obeid

Archives April 2001 May 2001 June 2001 July 2001 August 2001 September 2001 January 2002 February 2002 March 2002 June 2002 July 2002 August 2002 October 2002 November 2002 December 2002 February 2003 March 2003 April 2003 May 2003 June 2003 July 2003 August 2003 September 2003 October 2003 November 2003 December 2003 January 2004 February 2004 March 2004 April 2004 May 2004 June 2004 July 2004 August 2004 September 2004 October 2004 November 2004 December 2004 January 2005 February 2005 March 2005 April 2005 May 2005 June 2005 July 2005 August 2005 September 2005 October 2005 November 2005 December 2005 January 2006 February 2006 March 2006 April 2006 May 2006 June 2006 July 2006 August 2006 September 2006 October 2006 November 2006 December 2006 January 2007 February 2007 March 2007 April 2007 May 2007 June 2007 July 2007 August 2007 September 2007 October 2007 November 2007 December 2007 January 2008 February 2008 March 2008 April 2008 May 2008 June 2008 July 2008 August 2008 September 2008 October 2008 November 2008 January 2009 April 2009 October 2012
<< current
  • prequel

    "Top blog/Renato Obeid's World/Today's pick: This rambling weblog is worth reading not so much for its satirical posts but more for its insight into the minutiae of life in Lebanon, including the etiquette of road accidents and how to hire a taxi.” -Jane Perrone, The Guardian

    Sunday, March 25, 2007  
    Just got back from my walk to Jounieh.
    I got to Jounieh Square at around 5.00am just as the minibus that takes the Eastern European sex workers home from the ‘’super nightclub’’ there arrived.
    Not the first time that ladies of the night get home and to sleep and before I do and probably not the last time.
    There was nobody at the taxi rank in Jounieh so I had to walk about a kilometre north to the intersection where Jounieh meets Maameltein and where the real sleaze begins.
    Right on the edge of sleepy provincial Jounieh is the only remaining red-light district in Lebanon.
    With its old traditional stone architecture, famous restaurants and Mediterranean frontage, Maameltein is lovely during the day when the lowlifes are asleep or away but undergoes an ugly transformation at night.
    And in sleazy areas you get sleazy taxi drivers.
    I stopped at least five taxis whose drivers did not even know where Harissa was - three hundred meters as the crow flies up the mountain above, five kilometres away along the winding mountain road.
    The old-timers say that in the old days, before the ambient noise of modernity that is all around us but we aren’t even conscious of anymore, you could yell out to someone in Jounieh from Harisa and actually be heard and understood and that people used to often communicate this way.
    One driver said that Harisa was in the Bekaa (another province altogether).
    I felt like Diogenes the wise old man of legend who wandered the streets with a lantern looking for an honest man except I was looking to shine my lantern in the face of a man who knew where Harisa was.
    Suffice to say, they weren’t locals, probably not even Lebanese.
    God knows where they were from.
    I finally found a driver from the north who jettisoned the two little flower-selling* boys he was ferrying (they’ll live) to take me home.

    *Reading Charles Dickens in Dickensian Lebanon is redundant – just go for a walk.

    5:45 am

    This page is powered by Blogger.