Beirut, khallas

Today was my last day in Beirut. It feels good, now that I've had over two weeks to ease in to moving to the Middle East by living with family first. I know Damascus will be very different, I will not be speaking English and hearing French everyday, nor will I have wireless internet from my bedroom. At least I don't think so. And I'll be a student again, not a tourist all the time, spoiled by the attentions and comforts of family. But I'll be back, either to visit for the weekend (we didn't make it to the family house in the mountains on this trip) or when my parents come to visit me in March. But hopefully then I will be in a much different place. And maybe I'll have a better answer to the question "Why Damascus?"

It also feels good that I can now write in real time! Hurrah I caught up, just in time to leave. I have no idea how often I will be able to use the internet, nor how much I'll want to, so I promise less frequent and maybe less lengthy entries. You will be saved from all the details! Maybe.

Tomorrow I am taking a shared taxi in the morning, a few hours drive, for only $18 (if there are no surprise charges). And the driver will take me straight to the house! If I can find it. Then I'll have a few days before classes begin on Sunday (the weekend is Friday to Saturday as the Muslim holy day is Friday) to register, see a bit of the city, get to know my family a little, train myself to think in Arabic.

But as for today, today... woke up and was planning to go to church with my aunt but she wasn't feeling well so we postponed it to 6 pm. Had kibbe for lunch, started packing throughout the day, went to church, all of us, Ketes (as I learned her actual name, 2 weeks later) included. It was strange to sit through a mass in a different language, recognizing the rituals but being more distanced from it than usual. We came back to the house, I helped Chantal take down the Christmas decorations and we went out with Michel and his friend Selim (who I met my first day here when we went walking on the Corniche) for dinner at a nearby cafe. The cafe was cute-- everything in it was for sale, including the mismatched furniture on which you sit and eat and the art on the walls. It was just soup, salads and sandwiches (and chocolate cake for dessert-- there are NOT enough chocolate desserts here) and good conversation with a few aging leftists who don't want to grow up. But then again here it seems it is not in fashion to act(/dress/look) your age.