Tripoli

Today we took public transportation to Tripoli. (Yes, there is a Tripoli in Lebanon, and another in Libya.)

On the way there these two girls from Beirut Arab University, one of them in a muslim veil, started talking to me and - I swear - they were flirting. They were very forward. We exchanged life stories, jokes, emails and MSN names. . . The unveiled one invited us to the beach with her, the other had to study. It was wonderful. They were really friendly. It was cool.

Then we arrived in Tripoli. It is a very conservative city. It had this feel of what the seedy sections of Damascus must feel like. We walked through the streets for a bit, and we kept asking directions. Some people were really friendly, and others really weren't. It was kind of odd.

We found this restaurant called "Hallab". They made really good lahamajud, and an excellent kenefe. They also had some good sweet pastries. I recommend it if you ever find yourself in tripoli.

We went in to what must have been the central market, and if I would have closed my eyes and been instantly transported to the old city of Jerusalem, in the shouk of the Christian or Armenian quarters I would not have noticed the difference. Down to the smells of those sesame seed and honey cakes wrapped in plastic, it looked like the same market. The only discernable difference is that there is almost nothing designed for tourists there. All of the market in Tripoli seems like it is made for locals, just like it always has been. In tripoli there are few tourists. In Jerusalem this sort of market still exists, but it is more in the innards of the old city, not in the tourist places. Jerusalemites, even the old city muslims and christians do much of their shopping in the new city, in the supermarkets. The tourist stuff is all for show. It was no show in Tripoli, it was all authentic.

We went on a boat ride on the shores of Tripoli. (If only I can find the halls of Mantezuma too.) It was nice. A few boat drivers tried to sell us these tours of the high seas at exhorbatant sums. Then we found this guy who gave us the standard tour of the tiny Islands for a fairly standard price. It was the captain and gilligan and me and "B". One guy was just giving orders and then glaring at him. Obviously his protoge'. On our way back our boat stalledright near this outcropping of rock with an army post on it. The captain was unable to restart the engine and called to the army guy that he is stuck, and he'll be moving on as soon as he can. The army guy just glared and told him to shut the hell up. It was all very rude. Then we got towed by these other lebanese guys who were making fun of us, saying things like "Oh, you have an American aboard and everything breaks." I somehow coun't resist thinking that the guy talking is from Lebanon - where nothing in the past 2000 years has worked. But I didn't know enough arabic to emit a snappy reply.

Anyway, we eventually made it ashore, and wanted to head out of the city. We crossed the road, and bought a tiny cup of really sweet arab coffee for about 20 cents. It was well worth it. The coffee guy was pretty nice.

We then went to Jbdil (Byblos). There after some confusion about where we were supposed to be we found it, and it it was quite tranquil, especially as comparted to the annoying city of Tripoli. We wandered around until sunset and headed back to Beirut.

The ride home was odd. No one we could find went to where we had to go. So we ended up taking about four buses and three taxis all a little bit of the way, and many of them didn't really charge us. But we finally made it back to Hamra where I was staying.