A lot as changed since last I used this blog.
I went back to the US, entered an amazing relationship with Mika, my best friend of several years, and graduated (just under a year early) from Lewis & Clark. After that, I moved to Alaska for three months to work and save up some money while spending time with her family, we lived in Colorado for a month and got a CELTA certificate at Bridge TEFL, and visited friends and family on the West/best coast. Now, the next adventure.
Mika and I are moving to Turkey in just over a week to teach English. That’s the plan, anyway–we don’t have jobs lined up, and we don’t really know what’s going to happen. We’re just flying to Istanbul, armed with a TEFL certificate and our savings from the summer, looking to travel, teach, build our resumes, see the world, and delay the harsh realities of the domestic job market or graduate school for as long as feasibly possible. If all goes according to plan, we will settle in Istanbul for 6-12 months, then perhaps Egypt for a similar amount of time (Alexandria is calling to me), and then after that try to find a way to work in Africa. Who knows where we will end up after that?
I don’t intend to use this blog anymore, but it will remain here as long as WordPress continues to exist. However, if you’d like to follow our more current adventures, please visit and subscribe to our new, joint blog–The Way and the Wayfarers. Between the two of us, we will hopefully post frequently and keep everyone well updated with stories, information, and pictures. The journey continues. Thanks, everyone.
Neil
So, I’m down to less than 32 hours in Beirut, and it’s a time of a bit of reflection on changes.
First off, the election has been going on today. It’s 9 pm local time, and the polls closed an hour ago. I’ve been following updates on Ya Libnan in all of their poorly constructed, confusing, and unhelpful glory. Seems like there have been several minor clashes all over the country, including in Beirut, but very much nothing worth noting. This is common–a few kids with sticks beat up a few other kids with sticks wearing the wrong color of t-shirt, until the army breaks it up and arrests people as appropriate. There are 50,000 police and army officers on duty at this moment, and they’re keeping everything locked down pretty tight. No security concerns to warrant. I haven’t been out of the house because I’m furiously working on my last paper, but apparently the streets are pretty empty–in Lebanon, everyone is registered to vote in their “home village” were their family is from, which means that a huge percentage of Beirutis have left town to go back to vote. Unofficial results should be coming in around midnight, with official results as early as tomorrow afternoon. It’ll be interesting to see how it all pans out.
Second, I have to be at the airport at 2 am Tuesday morning, which is coming up alarmingly quickly. I’m less worried about the paper (I’ve written more than 3500 words so far, and I can work on it while I travel and email it in), and more just worried about leaving. I like it here, and I’m sad to go. As much as I’m feeling a bit homesick and definitely looking forward to the next three weeks of traveling around solo (Ramy, my roommate from back in the states, decided to not come with after all), I’m not entirely sure that I’m ready to leave Beirut. Alex extended for another semester, Hamza and Sirvydas are staying until July, others are here for their full degrees. I’m the first to leave, and that kind of sucks. Fortunately, I had a bit of a send-off on Friday night at my friend Xriss’ family house up in the mountains (pictures to follow at some point). They have a place in a village called Yachousch, which is a gorgeous Christian area. The house was big and well-stocked, and it was a big, fun group of people. The next day, we lounged around on their lawn (real grass! ahhhh!) and sat in a jacuzzi full of sun-warmed water and played ping-pong. It was hard to convince myself to leave, as the party was going on for a second night, but I caught a ride back to Beirut with Xriss’ boyfriend so I could work on my Conflict and Conflict Management paper. There’s an election party tonight that I’ll make an appearance at to say goodbye to everyone, and then tomorrow will be spent cleaning my apartment and rushing around tying up loose ends and saying goodbye to other people. And then *poof!*–I’m gone.
I don’t really know what else to say about this place, before I get home. I know that I’ve had a really good semester, and I definitely plan to come back to Lebanon in the future. I’m at the point in my educational career where it’s time to start thinking about potential graduate school ideas. I don’t think that I’d choose to go to AUB for that, but there’s always a possibility of fellowships or doing research abroad. If that doesn’t pan out, I can always come back here on vacation or possibly for employment in the future. Who knows? I’m definitely not done here, though.
As for AUB as a school–well, it’s had its ups and downs. I know that I would recommend the experience of studying abroad here, though I have mixed feelings about the university itself. My classes have certainly been interesting and given me new perspectives on a lot of things, including some fantastic debates, though the standard of quality of the professors at times was a little bit lower than I’d have liked. Regardless of the quality of the education, though, it’s been an amazing few months and I hope one hell of a resumé builder. I’m also hoping to use some of my professors here as references for future opportunities. In other words, this has definitely been a worthwhile investment for me.
Not much to add at this point. I expect that I’ll do some decompression when I get back to the US, and post more extensively about my thoughts of this experience. Before that, I’ll try to provide some updates here while I’m on the road. Until then, cheers.
Couple of updates to share:
Lourdes is moving out the day after tomorrow. We decided to throw a little going away party in the apartment tomorrow, and then she’s going to make her way back to Greece and then eventually home, via a big reggae festival in Berlin and some other spots en route. She’s been a good roommate, and I’m sad to see her go.
My time in Beirut is rapidly coming to a close as well. It’s been a pretty fantastic semester, and I’m sad to leave, but I’m also just about ready to head out. I have a pretty epic trip planned to make my way home. Early morning on June 9th, I’m flying to Athens. From there, the plan is to go to Thessaloniki (Greece), then Istanbul, Cappadocia, Adana, and Mersin (Turkey), then Aleppo and Damascus (Syria), then Petra, Wadi Rum, and Aqaba (Jordan), and finally back to Nuweiba, Alexandria, and Cairo (Egypt). I’ll leave Cairo late night on June 29th, so that’s a solid three weeks of travel. Not exactly sure if I’ll be alone or what–I’m hoping to meet up with Ramy, my roommate from Lewis & Clark, but he still doesn’t know what his plan is. If I’m not with him, I figure I can do it solo or make friends on the road. Whatever, it’s adventure o’clock, and I’m ready for it. I’m pretty stoked about this trip, and will do my best to keep everyone posted on the home front.
……
I’m also trying to work some things out in my personal life. Those who know me well know that I’ve been riding a rollercoaster relationship off and on for a few years, and that I decided to end it pretty permanently a little over two weeks ago after making some very sobering realizations. One could say that the relationship was slowly but inexorably falling apart for a long time–I described it once as a slow-motion car crash. Since the beginning of March, the impact has been in its final stages. Though the relationship has had many amazing moments and experiences, other times have been very difficult and have led to a lot of conflict. Now, I’ve officially thrown the towel in and bowed out. Dealing with the aftermath of that hasn’t been easy at all, and I’m not at all sure where I’m heading from here in my head and heart. I thought I was relatively on top of things, considering the circumstances, but now I’m not as sure. Yesterday I had a conversation with someone that really threw my equilibrium off, and raised a lot of questions in my mind. There are a lot of unresolved emotions swirling around right now. I guess what I’m saying is that this is the first time in several years that I haven’t had the influence of that other female in my life, and I’m struggling to get used to it. It’s liberating on one hand, but very saddening as well–when you’re used to being able to depend on something for years on end, and then you make the decision to push it away, there’s a big vacuum left that isn’t easy to fill. The dominant question in my mind right now surrounds that vacuum, and what’s best to do about it. Maybe it’s healthy to leave vacant for a while. Maybe we could all use a little bit of emptiness from time to time. Then again, maybe now isn’t the time to be alone at all–maybe when the fire keeping you warm goes out, it’s a bad time to sit alone by yourself in the dark. Maybe it’s time to take opportunities and risks that were posed before, but I could never pursue until now. It warrants a lot of heavy thinking.
Filed under: Personal
And a woman spoke, saying, Tell us of Pain.
And he said:
Your pain is the breaking of the shell that encloses your understanding.
Even as the stone of the fruit must break, that its heart may stand in the sun, so must you know pain.
And could you keep your heart in wonder at the daily miracles of your life, your pain would not seem less wondrous than your joy;
And you would accept the seasons of your heart, even as you have always accepted the seasons that pass over your fields.
And you would watch with serenity through the winters of your grief.
…..
You have been told that, even like a chain, you are as weak as your weakest link.
This is but half the truth. You are also as strong as your strongest link.
To measure you by your smallest deed is to reckon the power of ocean by the frailty of its foam.
To judge you by your failures is to cast blame upon the seasons for their inconstancy.
…..
Farewell to you and the youth I have spent with you.
It was but yesterday we met in a dream.
You have sung to me in my aloneness, and I of your longings have built a tower in the sky.
But now our sleep has fled and our dream is over, and it is no longer dawn.
The noontide is upon us and our half waking has turned to fuller day, and we must part.
If in the twilight of memory we should meet once more, we shall speak again together and you shall sing to me a deeper song.
And if our hands should meet in another dream we shall build another tower in the sky.
–Excerpts from The Prophet, by Khalil Gibran
At the recommendation of my dear friend Hamza, I’ve been reading a lot of Khalil Gibran lately. Gibran is an artist, poet, and author of Lebanese origin that moved to the US in the 1890s. He’s something of a national hero here, and is revered on a level subordinate only to Fairouz by most educated Lebanese people, especially the Christian community. His works have been published since before the 1920s, but mostly gained popularity in the 1960s counter-culture and New Age movements. According to Wikipedia, John Lennon even plagiarised a Gibran line and put it in the song “Julia.” Being here is the first time I’ve ever read any of his stuff, though.
Gibran’s most famous work is entitled The Prophet, and I am being continually blown away by it. The entire book consists of 26 short essays that read more like poems. Each are only a page or two long, and entail the central character sharing wisdom on one topic or another to the townspeople of Orphalese. I’d like to quote a page here so you get the idea:
Then a woman said, Speak to us of Joy and Sorrow.
And he answered:
Your joy is your sorrow unmasked.
And the selfsame well from which your laughter rises was oftentimes filled with your tears.
And how else can it be?
The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain.
Is not the cup that holds your wine the very cup that was burned in the potter’s oven?
And is not the lute that soothes your spirit, the very wood that was hollowed with knives?
When you are joyous, look deep into your heart and you shall find it is only that which has given you sorrow that is giving you joy.
When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight.
Some of you say, “Joy is greater than sorrow,” and others say, “Nay, sorrow is the greater.”
But I say unto you, they are inseparable.
Together they come, and when one sits alone with you at your board, remember that the other is asleep upon your bed.
Verily you are suspended like scales between your sorrow and your joy.
Only when you are empty are you at standstill and balanced.
When the treasure-keeper lifts you to weigh his gold and his silver, needs must your joy or your sorrow rise or fall.
Whoa.
It goes on like this, page after page. Unfortunately, there aren’t many pages, so I’ve been savoring it and intentionally reading very slowly. This is one of the most insightful and deep things that I’ve read in a long time, and each bit of knowledge that Gibran drops hits me hard. This is one of those potentially life-philosophy-changing experiences, particularly since it is coupled with some very personal and intense battles I’ve been going through. I heavily recommend The Prophet, or any of his other works to anyone, and I may very well post additional passages on here as time goes on.
Filed under: Personal
All exciting school and social activities aside, I’ve got a bit of a personal struggle going on right now. It’s been ongoing for a while, but culminated last night. Relationships and all that fantastically emotional teenage drama. For those that know what I’m talking about, thanks for the support. I’m doing relatively ok, considering the circumstances. You’re all amazing. For those that don’t know what I’m talking about, don’t feel left out or take it personally–group A is pretty select and small. You’re all amazing too, just for different reasons.
I had a few hours to spare in the middle of the today between classes, so I went to the Corniche. The Corniche is the northern boundary of Ras Beirut, the larger municipality that includes Hamra. It is a long, wide boulevard along the coastline that is very scenic. It’s basically the only thing between AUB campus and the Mediterranean–there’s a few lanes in each direction that make up the busy Ave de Paris, and then this extensive, gorgeous walkway. At certain times of the day, it’s packed with families and women with strollers and people jogging or smoking nargileh, but when I was there at 1 pm, it was pretty quiet. I walked around and took a few pictures (which are in the second half of this album), then acted on a tip from my friend Yara and went to a certain part where the one bar of the metal railing is missing. If you hop over that spot, there are rebar ladder rungs driven into the stone below you, and you can climb down to the rocks. Presumably this is impossible, or at least highly unsafe, at high tide, but when I went the tide was low and there was an extensive rock formation to wander around on. The waves were very mellow, just gentle swells that lapped in between the fingers of rock and tide pools. The water is surprisingly clear and clean, considering how close this spot is to a large street in a major city. You can look through the turquoise and spot a few jellyfish and crustaceans, and there are little flues and chutes carved into the hollow rocks that form underground caves and tunnels. There were people adjacent to me on AUB Beach (don’t be fooled by the name–it’s made of concrete), but separated by about 100 feet of water, so I had a little peninsula I could call entirely my own. I took a few more pictures, then sat down right by the water and got to the real reason I was there: writing a letter.
I rarely write physical letters anymore. When I do, they are very rarely actually intended to be mailed to the person they are addressed to. The one I wrote today will be sent, someday, but not until I’m back in the states. I plan to keep it safe until then. It covered a wide range of reflections, ranging from distant hope to despair to self-assurance and confidence. It was a good letter, and I feel better for writing it, even though it was very hard to do. As vague as it is, I think the last line of it sums up the tone best–”We’ll see, ok? Love always.”
