Sun-dried

I grew up in a culture that placed great value on its tumble driers.

Here in Beirut, though, it's all about solar and I love it. I persist in the belief that there's no better smell anywhere in the whole world than the scent of freshly line-dried-in-Beirut laundry.

Selling Flowers

This poor car has seen better days, back before the front bumper began falling off, before the hubcaps disappeared.

I'm glad its owner, whoever the owner is, sells flowers. Flowers. It could have been anything in this city: fruits & veggies, foreign perfumes, car parts, cell phones, counterfeit DVDs, kaak, ice cream, watches & jewelry, etc.

But the car wouldn't have been improved quite so much if it was serving up any of those things.

The Robert Mouawad Private Museum

I've finally found the place in Beirut that I will describe as a "must see" destination. In downtown, situated near the west edge of the Grand Serail, there's an old mansion, home of the Robert Mouawad Private Museum.

The collection is eclectic. Chinese pottery from the 15th century, Syrian pottery and metalwork, burial reliefs from Palmyra, rugs, books, the second biggest diamond in the world, and lingerie Heidi Klum modeled on the runway for Victoria's Secret in 2005.

But it wasn't the collection that sparked my curiosity about the museum. It was the house. I'd heard that the house was the real treat--and it was. Of course, the collection is interesting, but the house is fascinating. At one point, I simply sat and stared at the walls, the beautifully inlaid, artistically crafted, intricately designed, meticulously maintained, excellently preserved, walls.



Photographs inside were not allowed. Bummer. I was just brave (defiant?) enough to take ONE anyway--on top right in the collage. The others are from the grounds outside where photography was no problem.

Visiting information is (very oddly) not on the museum's website, so, as a public service here it is:

The museum is open from 9-5 every day except Monday. Admission is $1 for children and students, $3 for Lebanese, and $6 for foreigners. It is worth every penny.

For $20, you can schedule a tour (give them a few days' notice if you want the tour in English).

Back to the Pine Forest

On Saturday I participated in an event in the Pine Forest, an opportunity to help care for one of the most beautiful gardens in Beirut. I blogged about bumbling my way into the pine forest last year. I thought I'd stumbled upon one of the best-kept secrets in Beirut. Turns out it's no secret. It's just that entering the garden is one of they many things that you can do as a foreigner that you maybe can't do if you're Lebanese.

A few weeks ago, a friend began organizing an event to get people together caring for the garden. I was happy be a part of it.

Here we all area the beginning--weeds more than knee high.

Here's the middle with the crew my friend assembled.

And here are the results, a plot ready for new plants, more action.

Finally, here are some shots of the assembled crew.  Chris, who planned it is in the back, third from the left.  Zahra, who manages the garden is seated, third from left.  Sarah, who organized lunch is hidden in the back,  fifth from the right. 

While we were there, we learned that school groups are invited to come here to learn about the plants and to learn about the landscape and ecology of the city was before it was slowly transformed into a concrete jungle. I hope that in the future it will be opened to even more visitors.

Begging Your Pardon

If you'll be so good as to excuse the repetition, I'll share this image with you today.

In June last year, I posted a image of the same place, taken from a spot near where I stood this time around--I think I like the other picture better. That one is an image that I love.

If you compare the two pictures, you'll see little change. It's the same cluster of buildings, the same three trees at the bottom right, the same blue bucket inexplicably tied near a window. Nearly a year has passed, but I see no sign of the elapsed time.

That's Beirut for you. Tremendous change and its absence all in one little city.

Riding Lessons

The kids started riding lessons not long ago. They love it.

Here they are after the lesson, watching a more advanced student gallop past.

Strange Ways

They don't have a death wish, and they probably really do love their kid. They just have a strange way of showing it.

And come to that, I don't have a death wish either and I really love my kids too. Neither stopped me taking this picture through the windshield while driving.

Call it a strange way of may own.

There's More

You know there's more behind the wall. You can't prove it, not from here. Not with the wall in your way, but you know there is.

Because there has to be.

Normal

It's a normal street, a normal day.

Good Morning, Headache

It's Monday, and on this particular Monday morning, I've got an errand-filled day ahead of me. I'll spend my time running all over town to pay bills, check out shops, find what I'm looking for, check off my list.

I was already at it first thing this morning when I passed this lovely sight. The sunlight dazzled my eyes and I couldn't pass without taking a few photos.

But now  I look at this photo and it gives me a headache--it's all those funny angles. The way I framed it makes it look like the right side isn't really parallel to the left.  It actually hurts my eyes to look at it and it's that feeling that makes me think I've got a headache.

Or maybe, the headache is just because it's Monday and I'll spend the day chasing after my to do list.