A WOMAN IN BEIRUT

I am a pretty logical and rational woman. Having grown up with older brothers and sisters who didn’t give a damn about my moods and refused to talk to me when I was acting illogically definitely helped me growing up that way. And being on the pill since I was 14 is definitely a helping factor too, as I discovered recently.

For various reasons, I had to stop taking the pill for 6 months. I swear, hell broke loose. I experienced the worst mood swings ever, always feeling down and not loved and emotional and cranky the day before and the first day of my period, I had the worst acne ever ( even worse than in my teenage years before the pill!), I once cried in a fitting room because one particular jeans did not fit me… I really hated myself these days. All the bloating, the neediness, the affection craving, the irrationality of my actions and decisions…it was not me. I finally understood the women of my entourage who complain about this kind of stuff, and I really wonder how they manage.

Because after one particularly bad cycle, when I was a real emotional wreck, I decided it was time to go back on the pill. The only thing I will miss, though, is the weight loss. When I was off the pill, I lost 3 kgs without even trying, I was just never hungry. Oh and one thing that I will also miss, but only when I have a boyfriend or lover, is the increased libido.

So now, I know better than to trust doctors who tell me that the pill has no side effects: it does make me a bit fatter, it does decrease a bit my libido, but I’m willing to overlook these minor flaws to get my sanity back. Believe me, it’s worth it

I do have a pretty demanding job, which, though I love it, can be hard on me. There are some mornings when I don’t want to wake up, don’t want to face the day ahead, don’t want to fight to go through the day. The fact that I have a slight tendency to depression doesn’t help either.

But lately, there is one thing that is helping me getting out of bed in the morning: my gchat friend. He (he’s a he) is connected most of the day, working on some project or being in boring meetings. He greets me every morning when I go online, asks about my day, shares his day with me, send me some interesting information to read, gently flirts with me…everything is innocent and sweet and inoffensive, but without this daily online conversation, life would be tougher for me. I don’t think that he realizes the difference he makes in my life, and I do hope that I am making a difference in his. Either way, it always amazes me how small things can REALLY make a difference.

Lebanon has been experiencing some severe shortage in electric power the last few years. And it’s getting worse and worse. The reasons are known: old manufactures, no maintenance, no investment.
Rationing of electricity has become as natural to Lebanese as breathing. If you’re lucky and live in Beirut, power shortages occur only during 3 hours a day. If you live outside of Beirut, 21 hours can go by with you not getting any electricity by the state and relying on private generators to survive.

One of the side effects of this degradation is that roads are not lit any more. And believe me, driving in the Lebanese mountains, where the roads are curvy and full of potholes, when it is pitch black outside, is far from easy. Especially when the drivers in front of you use their strong lights and leave you blind. I wonder whether there has been an increase in the number of accidents at nights,because of the poor lighting. I am particularly concerned for old people, whose vision might be impaired but still need top drive. This situation makes me say that the state that governs us at best irresponsible, and at worst, completely criminal.

Tonight, for the first time since ages, I found myself in a situation when I was actually bored: I was waiting for someone at the restaurant, and he was late. I didn’t have my smartphone with me (it’s being repaired), so I couldn’t access the internet; my evening bag was too small to handle my iPad, my notebook or any book. So, after reading the menu and deciding what I wanted to have for dinner, I found myself with nothing to do.

And I’m not used to that anymore. It felt pretty discomforting. So much that I actually asked the waitress for a paper and a pen so that I could write about the experience and share it here tonight!

But even though, it took me less than 2 minutes to write my thoughts down, and my friend still didn’t arrive. So it get me thinking more. I do believe that now, with people being connected all the time and in all the places, being late to a meeting is not as bad as it used to be: distractions or work are easily available for the person who’s waiting, who can make the best of his/her time.They won’t even be bored, as I was, which in a way allowed me to be creative tonight and write about the fact that we’re not bored anymore in our daily lives. And that’s a pity, because, from boredom come the best ideas.

When people are bored, it is primarily with their own selves that they are bored.
~Eric Hoffer

Punctuality is the virtue of the bored.
~Evelyn Waugh

I want to comment on the following incident http://www.bloggingbeirut.com/archives/1773-Zaatar-w-Zeit-VIP-valet-physically-attacks-customer;-Police-fine-victim!.html

that happened last Saturday on Bliss street at 03:30 am. The whole situation is Kafkaesque to me: I’m angry at the valet parking company arrogance, dismayed with the manager of ZwZ who didn’t apologize (though the company did apologize after) and absolutely disgusted by the attitude and corruption of the police.

But it got me to ask the question: why do we (Lebanese) give our cars to valet parking? We know they drive like assh…s, they wreck our cars, they steal the money (or some other stuff) we leave behind, they get parking tickets that they hide from us, they take 30 minutes (at least) to get our car back, they belong to a mafia, they monopolize all the parking spots in the streets, they are arrogant, impolite, rude and ruthless….so why the hell do we give them custody of our cars?

Because we are too lazy to walk a bit? because it’s hard for women to walk on 5 inches heels ? because fat lazy men with cigars want to show off their brand new car and brand new girl (with new boobs, courtesy of his dad’s money)? because not giving the car to the valet parking and not getting down just in front of the restaurant/bar is considered uncool and “unclass”?

Seems to me that this is a lot of bullsh..t. If the reaction of people on social media do tell us anything about the Lebanese society today, it’s that people are fed up with the corruption and the systemic abuse of power exercised by some men. If all the people who expressed their sympathy to Samer online stopped using valet parking services offline, I guess the companies would suffer a first blow. And if all these people also started parking in Gemmayzé, Bliss, Hamra, in the spots supposedly reserved by the valet parking (who have no right to do so, if you had any doubt), and filmed their actions and the reactions (that might be violent) of the valet parking and post them online, it could get things slowly moving.

Of course, there will always be the “cool” people who want to show off their car and girl who will stick with using valet parking services, even when there is no need to. But for all the rest of us, the uncool, bobos, nerds, geeks, snobs, heretics, heteros, homos, moms, dads, grandmas, aunts, uncles, men and women, valet parking could revert to what they should have been since the beginning: a luxury we indulge to once in a while when we want to treat ourselves; and not a mere occurrence of our daily life, when we pay 5 000 LL for the Mankoushé and  5 000 LL for the valet.

Tonight I went with a friend to a police station because he wanted to press charges on a guy who assaulted him. I knew that women in Lebanon had less rights than men, and I knew that some people could be very sexists, but I never realized till what extent.
At the police station, the head of the police didn’t allow me to stay with my friend. But other guys who were with the molester could stay! they basically didn’t let me stay because I was a woman. So I stayed outside, and listened to the whole conversation. Meanwhile police officers were passing in front of me, and none of them acknowledged my presence. I felt invisible, and that was not necessarily a nice feeling.
Later on I went to the coffee shop in front of the station to get myself some tea, and there, same story: a dozen men, mostly bouncers, stopped there to eat, and literally didn’t see me.
It get me to realize that I was living in a bubble. As long as I didn’t get in any kind of trouble, I was fine. But if I were to have a fight with somebody, or if I had to denounce a violent husband, or an aggression, it would be hard for me to make these police officers, who are supposed to help me, to actually listen to me.
I am pretty lucky with the support of my family, but I really feel for all these women who have nobody to help them and must go to the police of this country. They will only make things worse.