Ahlan, I'm about to leave Beirut tonight (well actually tomorrow morning, very early) but I thought it was better late than never to write a blog entry about it. Beirut has been very interesting. After spending so much time in Asia, which does vary alot but also has a fundamently similar base that is completely different in Arab culture.

The plane was a strange in between zone, we flew Qatar Airways (which has really good food) on a plane of about half Arabs, half Chinese and us. Out stopover in Doha was like wandering through the UN, I think there were people from every nationality, because it's right in the middle of Europe, Africa, the Middle East and Asia. Actually I'm going to take a guess and say there was no one from Israel, but that's an issue for a very very long blog post, perhaps a whole blog. Israel-Palentine is such a live issue here, it's not academic or removed at all. Any person on the street you asked would know alot about it and have a very strong opinion (probably something along the lines of 'death to Israel'). My stepfather asked me this morning as a joke if I knew anyone from Hezbollah. If it gives you any indication of the atmosphere here, I thought he was serious.

But Lebanon doesn't feel like the place you might know it from on the news. There are alot of gunshot marks all over the buildings and rubble everywhere, but alot of that is because Chris' family life in the suburb that was hit incredibly hard in both the civil war (which ended in 1990) and the conflict with Israel in 2006.

Down town is alot more upmarket, the way the hills and harbour are shaped it looks like Wellington. Somedays I swear it is Wellington, except that everyone is speaking Arabic. Arabic is a beautiful language, but it is incredibly hard to learn, not only because the alphabet is differerent but also because it is very poetic and there are ten different ways of saying everything. As soon as you get the hang of one phrase, everyone decides it is boring for you to always say that thing that way, and it is time for you to learn a new way of saying it. Unfortunately these people do not seem to realise that you still haven't fully mastered the original phrase. There are alot of sounds in Arabic that we just do not have in English, exemplified by the word for 'good' which I have managed to find a new way to pronounce every time, none of them correct (it sounds something like 'mneha' if anyone wants to give it a go). It is now normal to me to have alot of people yelling in Arabic around me. At first I thought people were very angry but I now know they are probably just discussing the weather. Occasionally someone will be around to translate for me, nearly everyone is bilingual here, but alot of people speak French, meaning I've had alot of very confusing hybrid conversations, especially with lawyers, because the legal system is French and Chris knows alot of interesting people involved in law. This involves fluent English from my end, fluent arabic from their's, Chris concentrating incredibly hard to listen and occasionally translate the Arabic, and me and the native Arabic speaker sliding into semi-fluent French which I then translate for Chris and Sylvia. I always want to have a very long sleep after this process, but my French is improving.

We've met alot of very interesting people. Chris knows the head of a human rights watch-type organisation (you really need them here) and we've been to a few of the meetings he runs and met a judge who just made an important decision in relation to the children of Lebanese women being able to get citizenship and is now being persecuted for it. I couldn't understand much of the meeting because it was in Arabic, but the everyone liked yelling and the judge would bang his hands on the table alot while I sat in the corner nodding and eating the delicious brownie that one of the lawyers had made for it. We've also made friends with an American (who was born in France and is of Lebanese descent - are you reading this Gia?) who is working on a art project here and has been alot of fun to hang out with. Yesterday we went to Jeita, a huge cave with weird fungus like limestone formations where a famous river, that apparently barks when anyone invades Lebanon (this has probably been tested many times) begins.

Less happy, have been the many many creepy men we have run into. They are everywhere, one is staring in at me from outside as I right this. Their favourite activities include, staring creepily at me, saying creepy things to me in English, saying creepy things in Arabic about us to Chris (but Chris now has the routine sorted, there's alot of people out there who now think he has two wives) and (in the case of one particularly creepy experience which I can't talk too much about in case the American defence department comes and censors me) creepily watch me eat dessert, try and make me drink whiskey and then dance creepily with chris in his hotel room.

Not all the men are bad (but most of them are). There's a man at a restaurant we've been going to who loves Chris and looks exactly like a pirate. I'm in love (platonically) with pirate man from afar and we've been back many a time just so I can laugh as he walks by. Last time, I got a photo of him with Chris, but to my eternal regret I got too shy to have my photo taken with him.

Chris' uncle is also great, he likes to come by each morning and try and practice his English on us. He doesn't really speak English but it's fun to be greeted every morning by an enthusiastic 'hello grills". This is a pretty good approximation compared to the attempts to pronounce our names though. Apparently my name is very hard to pronounce in Arabic (although I think it sounds alot like 'insh'allah' which everyone says here constantly) so I have become 'Schwort' to Chris' grandmother, a fact that provides everyone (me included) with alot of amusement. Chris' family have been very hospitable, but they are very loud and we can't speak the same language, though it doesn't stop them from yelling at me anyway. Chris' grandmother is a very good cook, but her life's goal seems to be to try and make me eat more. Actually I think that's the whole family's obsession. We went over to Chris's uncles house last weekend and had some meat sandwich things for lunch, and I ate 10, 10! (these things were big) just because I didn't know what else to do to stop Chris aunt from yelling 'eat more, eat more' (in arabic). And even after 10 she was trying to make me eat more. This woman's other goal in life is figure out which one of us Chris is marrying, but this seems to be a shared theme in his family. They just have no idea why two young women from New Zealand who have just come from China are doing in Beirut, so the only option is that one of us must Chris' fiancee. We've had alot of fun with that one (just let it be known that Sylvia should never be taught the word for 'baby' in other languages).

Apart from the people and the language and the politics and the food, which are alot of Lebanon, we have also seen quite a few sights. We went to Byblos the other day, a beautiful seaside town that has been inhabited continuously for 7000 years. If you see it you will know why. It has a beautiful beach, a big castle, and a Roman theatre looking out over the Mediterranean (also a cafe with really good brownie). We've visited the Northern town of Tripoli where we visited more castles and ate more dessert (this time with no creepy men watching) and another day we took a very long gondala up to Harissa to get a beautiful view over the mediteranear and see the big white staute of the Virgn Mary there.

Today is my last day and I'm not sure what we're doing, but I'm sure it will involve creepy men, delicious food and people shouting at me in Arabic. I'm looking forward to Kenya, but it will be sad to leave Chris and especially Sylvia, whom I've lived, eaten, breathed and slept with (sometimes a but too close for comfort) for the last three months. Goodbye, next time I blog, it'll be from a whole new continent.