A man formerly known as Pope (MFKAP)

On this historic day when Pope Benedict XVI leaves office to once again become Joseph Razinger, BeirutStateofMind would like to wish the man formerly known as Pope (MFKAP) all the best in his future endeavours. We cannot be sure whether MFKAP’s visit to Beirut in September of last year had any impact on his decision to leave his post – being the last country MFKAP visited before making his timely decision – however the caption accompanying this poster advertising his visit seems somewhat poignant given the turn of events. An extract from the Gospel of John it reads: “You know the truth, and the truth sets you free.” Perhaps MFKAP became aware of a latent truth that influenced his decison, or maybe he just wanted to free up some extra time to play the piano.

A poster from Pope Benedict XVI's September 2012 visit to Beirut. Still on display at the beginning of Charles Malik avenue at the time of publication. 26/02/2013.

Bashoura – The political imagery of migration

Situated on the edge of the green line many of Bashoura's buildings lie abandoned and derelict. Relics of civil conflict. 20/02/2013.

Situated on the periphery of the Green line that separated East from West Beirut during the Lebanese Civil War, the neighbourhood of Bashoura was one of Beirut’s first urban suburbs – along with Zokak el Blatt and Minet el Hosn.

Bashoura’s development preceded that of areas such as Ras el-Nabah, Gemmayzeh, Ras Beirut, and Moussaitbeh urbanized by the end of the 19^th century as Beirut expanded from a small port and local commercial centre of around 10,000 inhabitants (  – primarily Arab Sunni and Greek Orthodox Christian) into a more substantial urban conurbation numbering some 80,000 by 1880 and 160,000 by 1932.

Over the course of the civil war the once prosperous neighbourhood was subject to both the destruction and the migratory ebbs and flows that characterized areas situated close to the Green Line (particularly in West Beirut) especially following the Israeli invasion of 1982. The more affluent fled the area in search of safe-haven elsewhere to be replaced by lower echelons of Lebanese society themselves fleeing the Israeli occupation in the mainly Shia south of the country.

Today, walking through the area, one can feel the weight of this history. It is manifest in a decaying architectural heritage, in wanton need of investment and restoration, and in the Shia – mainly Amal with a splattering of Hezbollah – imagery, that covers most street corners in the area...

Entering Bashoura from the airport road. From top: Grand Ayatollah Muhammad Hussein Fadlallah, Hezbollah Chief Sayyid Hassan Nasrallah and Imam Musa Sadr, founder of the Movement of the Disinherited from which the Amal movement developed. Sadr, of course, went missing during a diplomatic visit to Libya in 1978, never to be seen again. Bashoura, 20/02/13.

Up close and personal: The Amal (امل) logo. Bashoura, 20/02/2013.

The above image is replete with Shia political symbols evident in the exhaltations to Ali (between windows and below window on right), the 4th Rashidun caliph, whom the Shia believe to have been appointed the rightful leader of the Muslim community following the death of Muhammad. The Amal logo can also be seen under each window. Bashoura, 20/02/13.

Nabih Berri, leader of the Amal movement and speaker of the Lebanese parliament, whose name translates roughly into English as "wild intellect", beside one of the most stunning buildings in the neighbourhood. Bashoura, 20/02/2013.

Musa Sadr (left) and Berri (right) pictured together. "Haidar", written below is another name for the Imam Ali. The caption in the poster reads: "Our victory in (our) unity." Bashoura, 20/02/2013. 

A bodyless Nabih Berri levitates outside a carpenters. Bashoura, 20/02/2013. 

مرة تانية . Bashoura, 20/02/2013.

Sadr and Berri once again pictured together. Check the "VIVA SPAIN" tag (bottom left). No doubt a throw back to a particular allegiance during last year's European Championship or the previous World Cup. Bashoura, 20/02/2013.

Memorial to a martyr. Imam Musa Sadr looks down from the top-right corner of the poster, a position he is often found in in Amal political imagery. 20/02/2013.

A small stall selling recordings of popular Shia traditions. Pictured right is Imam Hussein ibn Ali, martyred at the Battle of Karbala - which in itself forms the centre-piece of the Shia theodicy of suffering. Pictured left is Abbas ibn Ali who fell alongside his half-brother during the battle. The prominence of visual representations of figures important in Shia tradition distinguishes it from its Sunni counterpart. Bashoura, 20/02/2013.

Carpets hang from an old palace. Bashoura, 20/02/2013.

Young girl in back alley. Bashoura, 20/02/2013.

Sayyid Hassan Nasrallah watches over a fleet of civil defence ambulances. In the foreground "Manchester United" prepares to take a penalty against "Messi". Bashoura, 20/02/13.

"Manchester United" celebrates having made the score 8-5. "Messi" looks disconsolate, Nasrallah - impartial. 20/02/2013.

Leaving Bashoura: Another memorial to fallen soldiers. 20/02/2013.

(Mis)adventures in the Kurdish Triangle

Mother and son in Mardin. December 2012.

In late December of last year myself and Greco-Roman wrestler left Beirut for Turkey. Our aim was to gauge an understanding of the political currents brewing in what we termed the “Kurdish triangle” since the outbreak of Syria’s civil war. Beginning in the South-Eastern Turkish city of Diyarbakir, notorious for anti-centrist PKK leanings, we proceeded overland to the Kurdish Iraqi capital of Erbil before heading to the Iraqi-Kurdish border point of Phish Khabur. From here, it was our intention to cross to the Syrian towns of Derrik and Qamishlu. We would then look into claims that Syria’s descent into civil chaos has presented the country’s Kurdish community, numbering some 2 million and ostracised from the privileges granted other minority groups in return for political support, the opportunity to assert greater political autonomy. And see how these pushes for greater autonomy were going down with (a) internally: the Free Syrian Army, and the Assad regime (b) regionally: the Turkish and Iraqi (specifically Kurdish Iraqi) states.

As the sun set on a dry winter’s night, our plan was foiled by a particularly grizzled Peshmerga warrior at the final checkpoint before the border. In the fading light that accompanied our return journey to Duhok our taxi driver’s unexpected selection of Usher did little to rouse spirits. Nor did the endless cups of shay – prepared ludicrously sweet compared to its counterpart across the Turkish border – that greeted us the next day as we struggled through the bureaucratic labyrinth that is the Kurdish Iraqi Interior Ministry. At one point things became heated when one particularly burly officer’s feign of ignorance that he did not know Iraq shared a border with Syria, was greeted by Roman-Wrestler’s claim that if the officer repeated this blatant lie then he would have to throw down. Needless to say we left empty handed. Wasta (or a lack of it) is a bitch.

Over the course of the trip we encountered widespread support amongst Kurds in both Turkey and Iraq towards the assertion of greater autonomy – political, cultural and linguistic – by the Kurdish community in Syria. However, being no strangers to persecution, fear was raised as to whether a more assertive Kurdish community in Syria, would be allowed by both the Turkish government and the Syrian opposition. Whether enjoying a slice of shortbread and some English tea on the tab of members of the KDP (whose own tab was on Kurdish Iraqi president Massoud Barzani) in a recently opened Turkish funded hotel in Erbil, or conversing with a man with a disturbingly well coiffured head of hair over a bowl of chicken, rice, and arnabeet (cauliflower) in a modest living room in a back alley in the Turkish border town of Nusaybayn, all comers expressed apprehension over Turkey’s role in Syria’s Kurdish quarters.

Within the famed Basalt walls, predating the birth of Christ, that frame the old city of Diyarbakir Abdullah Demirbas mayor of the city’s Sur district spoke with candid intensity.  Stating that whilst the Turkish government professed to support the overthrow of the Assad regime and the nurturing of democracy amongst all of Syria’s peoples, the Kurds presented somewhat of an exception to this rule.

“If the Kurdish people in Syria gain their rights and autonomy all the Kurdish people will be happy,” said Demirbas, once imprisoned for publishing dinner party invitations in the Kurdish language. “But the Turkish government don’t want this. They claim to want democratization for the Syrian people but they don’t want it for Syrian Kurds. They fear we will demand the same thing.”

In the headquarters of Azadiya Wilat – a Kurdish language newspaper based in Diyarbakir – Rizo Xerxi sat framed by a wall covered in black and white photographs of Kurdish journalists killed in pursuit of their profession. He expressed concern that the Turkish government was facilitating the movement of Salafist groups across the Turkish border into the Kurdish area of Syria particularly around Ras al-Ain (– a particular hotspot in an otherwise relatively calm area. Ras al-Ain has witnessed both regime aerial bombardment and clashes between local Kurdish PYD Units and the Free Syrian.)

Tensions between the Turkish government and the Kurdish community have certainly been exacerbated by events in Syria.

Clashes between the PKK and the Turkish army continued unabated throughout 2012, some in areas close to the Syrian border – away from the traditional areas of altercation near the Iraqi and Iranian borders. The Paris assassinations of three female Kurdish political activists in January this year, including Sakine Cansiz – regarded as one of the founders of the PKK, have served to foment both popular and intensified guerrilla opposition.

Within a community, subject to a (modern) history of persecution, that has intrinsically shaped their self-perception, any sense of optimism vis-à-vis developments in the north-eastern corner of Syria are heavily countered by a scepticism furnished by experience.

During our trip, on a bus journey from Diyarbakir to Erbil, we came across a quite disarming manifestation of civil unrest. Passing through the town of Siirt our in-bus screening of Hasbro’s big-screen adaptation of Battleship (dubbed in Turkish) was interrupted by the scene of around 80 balaclava-clad 8-12 year-olds blocking the road with burning rubbish whilst hurling rocks at plain-clothed policemen lazily firing tear gas canisters into the pre-adolescent melee.

No one on the bus batted an eyelid. That the melee evoked so little reaction reminded me of a response to our pitches I received from a renowned international publication prior to the trip: “Kurds don’t sell papers.”

The sentiment seemed to somewhat echo the self-expressions of those Kurds we encountered on our trip. That amongst the chaos of Syria’s civil conflict the Kurdish voice could be drowned out amongst the cacophony created by more powerful players.

(For more of BEIRUTSTATEOFMIND’s (Mis)Adventures in the Kurdish Triangle see “How (not) to interact with the locals – HERE.)

Fish. Diyarbakir. December 2012.

The 16th century Hasan Pasha Hani (caravanserai). Diyarbakir. December 2012.

The other side of town. Diyarbakir. December 2012.

Kuras. Diyarbakir, December 2012.

Pon de Wall. Diyarbakir, December 2012. 

Empty swimming pool, dead dog, and goats. Diyarbakir. December 2012.

Barcelona. Erbil, December 2012.

Fly creps. Erbil, December, 2012.

Friendly man with guns. Erbil, December 2012. 

From the Citadel. Erbil, December 2012.

B3d shwarma. Erbil, December 2012. 

The rillest press in town. Erbil, December 2012.

Failure and Rijkaard in the Cedars

BeirutStateofMind happened upon this sign after escaping a few near death experiences on the slopes of the Cedars a couple of weeks back, mainly due to the appearance of an out of control Frank Rijkaard sporting a fluorescent 1970’s “kil-u sawa” (onesy) on the piste. Still, it was nothing compared to last year when we had the pleasure of sharing a ski-lift journey in Faraya with a man clad in only speedos.

 In an exclusive with BeirutStateofMind Rijkaard revealed that he first tried skiing last year during a Night Sky party in The Cedars. In what turned out to be a relative baptism of fire, Rijkaard, unaware, of common chairlift practice, failed to dismount the machine upon reaching the summit of the slope. Cries of reprimand mixed with mild concern from the machine's operator then led Rijkaard to make a heat of the moment decision. As the chairlift began its descent, he jumped, plummeting 10ft onto the slope. Rijkaard, a self-confessed adrenaline junkey, says that from this moment on he knew skiing was for him.

Nearly but not quite.

Despite claims to have fallen in love with the sport Frank Rijkaard's skiing technique left a lot to be desired.

That is not Frank Rijkaard.

Sledges.

The flyest service (taxi) in Beirut.

Service journeys. Some people love ‘em, some people hate ‘em. BeirutStateofMind gets down. The confines of Beirut’s famous shared taxi’s provide opportunities to misadventure in the Arabic language, gain cultural insights, cause offence by declining the offer of a Cedars cigarette , and even on occasion to be enthusiastically shown a video of a captive man being decapitated by a chainsaw on the “chaffeur’s” mobile phone.

In addition to the company and of course the traffic, the vehicle one is travelling in is integral to shaping the service experience.

On a particularly scorching day last summer, after a hard day’s work, BeirutStateofMind had the pleasure of a green lights journey in this veritable beauty. All for 2,000 lira. Now BeirutStateofMind does not profess to possess any specialist knowledge of cars but what seems patently clear is that this car wins.

.

If anyone out there has seen a flyer service roaming the streets of Beirut then visual evidence is kindly encouraged at: beirutstateofmind@gmail.com.

The flyest service in town. Downtown, Summer 2012 (Captured by Brosef).

مرة ثانية (Summer 2012, Captured by Brosef).

Wheelz of Steel: Green Lights All the Way.

Beirut can be a frustrating place. Traffic perhaps ranks near the summit in terms of the most frustrating of Beirut’s character traits. A particularly Lebanese auto-vehicular pre-occupation with believing that a big car (preferably a Hummer) will in fact make up for a lack of wealth in other departments; material- economic, as well as physiological; is merely a facet of this problem.

A casual perusal of vehicles along Beirut’s clogged arteries reveals that at the very least 50% hold but one passenger. Whilst some people have attempted to encourage “car-pooling” to ease the congestion and its detrimental effect on the environment it seems highly unlikely that such outlandish ideas will really catch on in a place where one can actually be reprimanded and face social ostracisation for not littering…

[BeirutStateofMind experienced such a phenomena when merely a newbie in Beirut. Upon attempting to place a “booza” (ice lolly) wrapper within a rucksack to safely dispose of later words and gestures of indignation from local youth led to the removal of the rubbish from the rucksack and its disposal in a more appropriate manner – in the ocean, combined with an assemblage of rubbish accumulated over the course of an afternoon’s light snacking on the Corniche. Later swimming in the aforementioned rubbish becoming a code of practice to which the novice must quickly adapt.]

… given that traffic in Beirut can get so bad that clocking a faster time over 5 km’s travelling by foot rather than by taxi is a distinct possibility – particularly in the summer when the Lebanese diaspora return for a spot of hell raising and temperatures soar into the upper 30’s – those rare moments when one is greeted by a lack of traffic on the capital’s roads are moments to be appreciated. Especially if one is on route to a favoured activity such as haggling a group of “Clean up Beirut’s beaches” activists meddling with Ramlet el-Baida’s established eco-system.

An unveniable task: A Sukleen worker attempts to gather litter 

amongst a group of shabab on the Corniche, where facing

reprimand for not-littering is common. Summer 2011.

Weekend mornings represent an opportunity. Many Beirutis usually found clogging the roads are either at home, outside the capital or putting in similar work elsewhere – the Beirut-Tripoli highway, around Jounieh being a particularly favoured spot. Cruising through the streets of East Beirut, across the Green Line, down towards Ain-Mreisseh along the Corniche up to Raoche in a 1960’s Mercedes discussing Mel Gibson’s accent in Braveheart, Beirut can seem like the unthinkable, a driving city. 

If one is lucky enough to happen upon such an opportunity BeirutStateofMind recommends having a song in mind to accompany the experience, whether through humming, or in the form of a Marvin Gaye-Tammi Terrell tag-team with the service driver. Greco-Roman Wrestler recently revealed that he favours Tina Turner’s “Eye of the Tiger” for reasons beyond the realm of comprehension. An alternative choice that BeirutStateofMind can often be found getting down to at any given opportunity is Aloe Blacc’s “Green Lights.”

How (not) to interact with the locals

During a recent trip outside Lebanon myself and Greco-Roman Wrestler found ourselves in Eastern Turkey - hiking from the picuresque hill town of Mardin - a rare beneficiary of government investment in an area often overlooked by Ankara - to the monastery of Deyrul Zafaran, the former seat of the Syrian Orthodox patriarchate. On our journey, having passed by some rather friendly turkeys and some rather annoying children we came across an old couple working in a field. Ever quick to seize upon a photo opportunity Greco-Roman Wrestler quickly got out his camera, only to be greeted with indignation and the sort of hand gestures that really are not lost in translation. In an area renowned for a confluence of Turkish, Kurdish, Yazidi, Christian and Syrian cultures and the corresponding linguistic plurality that this entails it was difficult to ascertain in what language we were being reprimanded. Rather than panic, keen to assuage the tension and being particularly skilled in lingusitic intuition Greco-Roman Wrestler decided to reply in a tongue of his own.

Anti-Erdogan Sentiment. Mardin, December 2012.

Back Alley. Mardin, December 2012.

The Market. Mardin, December 2012.

Minaret at Dusk. Mardin, December 2012.

Hanging Nargile pipes. Mardin, December 2012.

Youths. Mardin, December 2012.

Mardin, December 2012.

Rudeboy. Mardin, December 2012.

"Guaranteed" 99% Wood in Jounieh

An advertisement of the "SWEDX 99% Wood" flanking the highway in Jounieh, north of Beirut. 10/02/2013.

Last week whilst stuck in some particularly heavy rush hour traffic in Jounieh I noticed a number of interesting advertisements flanking the highway. Along with one quite disturbing placard stating that someone had opened a shop called "Me, Myself and My Bracelets" somewhere on the outskirts of Beirut I noticed this rather audacious claim - a T.V made almost entirely from wood. Now, I have seen many outlandish messages lining the Beirut-Tripoli highway during my time in Lebanon. These have included...

... a number last summer depicting the man formerly known as Pope, Joseph Ratzinger, beckoning his flock towards him accompanied by the caption: "Let the children come to me," which I felt seemed like a bit of a PR oversite considering, well... the Catholic Church's record when it comes to children;

... a grotesquely enormous advertisement in Summer 2011 claiming that Barney -the child friendly purple-American dinosaur - would be visiting Beirut (it is well known that Barney sends a body double when he "performs" outside the US. I found out the hard way. He's kinda like MF Doom like that).

BeirutStateofMind is certainly down with the idea of wooden TV's but felt that current global technological advancement would only allow a veneer of wood. Unfortunately without a test sample this hypothesis remains unverified. For now the SWEDX 99%Wood remains a mystery.

It is well known that Barney deploys a body double when performing outside the US. Jounieh, Summer 2011.

Do Lebanese Internal Security Forces use nunchucks?

 Typically, the tardiness of Lebanese internet speeds prevented the upload of a video of the aspiring shinobi.  A still must suffice.

One from the backlog but worthy of note nonetheless. Amongst the handbags, rubber bullets, and tear gas that rained down on all-comers following the funeral of former Lebanese Security Official General Wissam al-Hassan in Downtown Beirut last October, Graeco-Roman wrestler came across a quite peculiar sight: a solitary Internal Security Force member armed with nunchuks, the weapon made famous by the seemingly stoned member of the Ninja Turtles, Michelangelo. Ever quick to seize upon a photo opportunity Roman Wrestler did the honours and the evidence is included. Enquiries as to whether such instruments are officially sanctioned gear, to date, await response. Watch this space…

Michelangelo reacts with incredulity to the news that his favoured weapon of choice may be gaining popularity  amongst  members of the Lebanese Internal Security forces