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It seems we are settling in. Instead of running around all the time saying ‘wow’ and feeling like travellers on a long trip, we have entered the DIY home-building phase. At the moment we are in the middle of building a bed, without a screw or nail. This asks for precision carpentry, naturally not something that comes easy neither to Ale nor me. In fact, several bits cut off in error had to be glued back on, not always a pretty sight. Oh well, as long as it’s functional. The nice thing is we can use the wood that’s left over from building the house and we have a friend who’s friend is a carpenter with big machines for cutting and planing fat, rough boards into nice and smooth ones. We even have a lot left over for building shelves.

Today we visited the World Bank in Beirut. Very friendly people, no answers for our probing questions, tho. They flatly denied, or at least feigned ignorance, of a project to do with power sector restructuring. But I had done my homework and read up, which caused some embarassement for the girls who are in charge of PR.

In the afernoon we had some time so I found this big green spot on the map that said ‘pine forest’. I was wondering how there could be a forest in Beirut, a city that is otherwise solid concrete. We found it, no mean feat in a city without roadsigns. A large park, apparently for government officials only, at least that’s what the guard said. But, he said, since we are French he will make an exception for us and we can have a look around for an hour. Which we did, oui monsieur, merci monsieur. So we had this whole park to ourselves, not much of a forest but still some tall trees, a lot of small ones and some grassy hills with a lawn so tough, it would survive direct shelling. Only the hardest of weeds can get through this summer. I also thought it’s very symbolic, there is one large green spot in the whole city and it’s locked up.

I have also nearly mastered an essential social skill: eating pumpkin seeds. The trick is to crack open the edge of the skin with your teeth and then pull out the seed with your tongue. Trouble is the little fuckers always crumble when my inexperienced cutting teeth try to force them open. That means I end up eating the whole seed including the skin which is a bit like chewing wood.

The other significant development is that the UN investigator into Hariri’s murder has accused four security officials with close ties to Syria. They were also the last allies president Lahoud had and calls for his resignation are getting louder. But he is clinging on to power. The thing is no one will cry even one tear over Assad’s puppet. Ironically he is the only one opposing the sell-off of Lebanon’s public utilities, all the rest of the government is hell-bent on privatising whatever public sector there is in order to reduce the country’s substantial debt.

People are worried, though, that naming those responsible for killing Hariri could trigger a new conflict. I for my part think the truth will out, at least to some extent in this case. Of course those on top of the chain of command rarely are subject to the law but by now they caught some pretty big fish already. But even if the Syrians were to be blamed I think there would be so much international attention on them that they would have to stay quiet.

One more thing, hunting season has started and it turns out the Lebanese are natural born hunters. Teenagers carrying hunting rifles are a common sight around the neighbourhood. Everybody’s favourite hobby is to take pot shots at the flocks of large birds – not quite an eagle, bigger than a falcon – that cricle in the winds rising on the side of the mountain. Meanwhile the little pellets fall right onto our house when coming back down. More annoying, though, is that they start shooting at 6 in the morning. I’ve never been up this early. When I confronted one of the heroes why he is shooting so close to the house, he just cradled his 12-hundred dollar Italian made rifle and said it’s a harmless hobby. I guess I ought to be grateful that they are not hunting with their AK-47s and Kalashnikovs.

Ale and Ayman want to get a really powerful loudspeaker so they can scream back at them. Not sure if that’s gonna work. I thought of putting out a rumour that we mined the woods around the house. As seen in the USA, gun culture and social solidarity are diametically opposed. Hence I think appealing to our hunters’ empathic understanding as responsible citizens is a lost cause. Stronger deterrents are needed. I guess I should try and buy a used SUV, a Hummer or a big pick-up or something like that and then I mount an ant-aircraft gun on the back. That should get me some respect in the neighbourhood.

Hasta la vista, baby, as we Austrians say.

In the 1960s the math wizard Jay Forrester pioneered systems analysis. That is a way of modelling complex interdependent relationships in corporations, cities and whole societies. His work resulted in the now classic book ‘Limits to growth’ that became the foundation for the sustainablity movement. The basic point being that the world’s ecosystems cannot sustain infinite economic and population growth. In fact it predicted that there would be a point of collapse.

In ‘The parable of the sower’, Octavia Butler paints a disturbingly bleak picture of the US in the not too distant future, after the collapse Forrester prophesed. Global warming led to the rise of sea levels and coastal towns are gradually falling into the sea or simply flooded. Law and order have largely collapsed except for towns that have been bought by large corporations where people no longer work for a wage but for food and board only. Marauding gangs roam the country looting and killing at will. Everybody, even children, are armed to the teeth. Petrol has become so rare and expensive that most people move on foot or on bikes, that is, if they dare to leave their walled communities at all. Seeing the disaster of New Orleans unfold before our eyes I cannot help but think of ‘The parable of the sower’. People shoot each other over a bag of ice, guns and electric gadgets are cleared out of department stores and old peoples’ homes are thinking of training their guards in handling rifles.

And then I wonder why this kind of frontier mentality of all against all is coming to the fore in this situation. Maybe it is deeply human to look after yourself first in times of crisis. At the same time I don’t remember hearing of looting and societal collapse to such an extent in the aftermath of the tsunami. Was, for exmple, Sri Lankan society equally unravelling? The pictures that are stuck in my head are predominantly of people grieving for loved ones or simply staring in disbelief at the scale of the disaster. And also pictures of people working together to do the humanly possible to return to some kind of normality.

Another point made by Forrester was about self-defeating policy. He found that often solutions for problems are based on too simplified mental maps – common sense approaches if you wish – misunderstanding the complex causal relationships at the root of a problem. Forrester found that “problems for most companies were not brought on by competitors or market trends but were the direct result of their own policies. ” By repeating policies that are believed to be solutions but actually are part of the problem, failure becomes inevitable. In fact some would go as far as to say the point of policy is not to solve problems and that failure is a necessary part of applying policy because the real function of policy is to sustain institutions. So the World Bank is not in the business of alleviating poverty but in the business of keeping itself in the business by generating policies for poverty alleviation.

A related fundamental question is whether social change can be planned at all. Often enough one can witness how rational choices produce irrational outcomes. Say for example the rational organisation of the planned economy in the Soviet Union that dried up the Baikal Lake for an economic development that never materialised. Similarly, the forced relocations to communal farms in Nyerere’s Zaire uprooted and tore apart familes and led to ethnic conflict. Most of those farms now lay abandoned as do many Israeli Kibbutzim, similar utopian projects of organised socialist bliss. Planned cities, like Brasilia, often turn into distopian hellholes for the people that are lured to live in them by promises of lucrative jobs and modern commodities. Instead they breed gang violence and drug abuse. Applying rational planning in the form of monocropping to tree farms in Germany led to the deforestation of entire regions because of acid rain.

The point is that we live in a complex world and that no one can seriously claim to understand how it really works. Planning social change to me always smacks a bit of social engineering, it’s prize counted in the millions of lives that have to be sacrificed for progress. Follow the enlightened leaders and Nirvana is just around the corner. This is the basic premise of fascism. A kind of religious short-cut to the good life that absolves you from finding your own solutions.

if anyone is thinking of visiting us in lebanon you know you are welcome. just to say that we will be away for two long weekends in november (3-6 and 19-22). the first persons to take the plunge are bert and algis who will be here 20-29 september. so for now they take the most-adventurous-friends award (even though, strictly speaking, they really are family), unless someone can beat them and come earlier. i will be updating this post if there are any changes.

20-29 september: bert and algis are giving us the honour
20-29 october: axel rocks jounieh
03-06 november: ale and ben are cruisng the middle east
19-22 november: ale and ben cruising again
21dec – 2jan: ben in steyr (get the snowboards ready dudes i’m coming!)

We’re just back from the beach. Ale had decided to stay home today, look after the house and generally be homies. But then at half five she looked down onto the sea and saw that there are big waves. So we threw the body board in the car and raced down to Tamary beach. It wasn’t exactly surfable, they only starting breaking a few meters before the coast, so there is really no way of riding them. I still get a kick out of playing in the water being tossed around by the waves, tho. But nothing compared to Friday’s surf on Tamtam beach. We found the public entrance to what otherwise is a really posh beach. It’s a shallow and sandy which means there is a bit of a groundswell. Again, nothing much but enough to play around a bit with the board. Ale got really hooked and I’m very glad about that. It’s a really fun thing to do together.

Saturday we went cruising a bit again and visited Beiteddine. It’s a fairy tale castle built by a certain Bashir who called in Italian architects and Syrian stone masons who did a really grand job. The palace has its own hamam, stables for 600 horses that now house one of the biggst mosaic collections ever, amazing gardens and was used as the seat of several Lebanese presidents. In the 1982 invasion it was looted by the Israelis but restored and openend to the public on the initiative of Walid Jumblatt, the Druze leader. He is from a prominent family from the Chouf area and was thrown into politics when his father was assassinated. At that time he was apparently a student in Beirut who was only into hashish and beer, not power and strife. The parallels to the young Hairiri are quite striking.

From Beiteddine we went on to the Chouf cedar reserve, one of the few remaining patches of old growth cedar forests. The trees are enormous and some are said to be thousands of years old. Walking among them one can imagine what Leabon must have looked like when the now bare mountains were completely covered in cedar forests. There is very little undergrowth aside from some ferns and a few shrubs and the tall giants gently spread their crowns to shade the below from the sun. In parts it is like walking through a big hall. One of the most powerful places I’ve ever seen, could be right out of the Lord of the Rings.

Our guide recommended a little dirt track from the reserve across the mountains into the Bekaa valley that’s accessible to 4WDs only. Since our car could handle that I was looking forward to a bit of offroading. When we then actually asked where this track might be we were pointed to a perfectly maintained asphalt road winding up the hillside. It was build in ‘96 untill whih time it sure was a rough road. Looks like Lonely Planet isn’t the bible after all.

The valley itself is fantastic, a vast, fertile plateau on almost 1000 meters, flanked by two parellel mountain ranges of naked rock, the contrast couldn’t be more stark. Driving through the lush vegetation we came across a red English double-decker bus parked in the middle of a field, decorated with a larger-than-life poster of Hairiri and son in front of which huge dear were grazing. The scene was so surreal that literally every car stopped on the roadside and people got out to take pictures.

After we crossed the mountains again and succesfully navigated home I still felt a bit restless. Maybe the fullmoon was making me itchy. Right next to our compound are the ruins of an age old castle the takes its name form the viallge further down the hill. There is really not much left of it other than some massive blocks of limestone strewn around the site. I had planned for a while to explore the place at the next full moon. So I equipped Ale with a torchlight and of we went climbing the old ruin. From the top of those boulders there is a fantastic view down the mountain and onto the sea. The night was clear and climbing in the moonlight reminded me of that one time I did a similar thing while jobbing in Bavaria.

At that time I got it stuck in my had that I had to challenge my fears. Since being alone in the woods at night was one of them I decided to take a little midnight hike up into the forests, culminating in a fairly easy climb up a sharp rock-needle overlooking the valley below. So I rolled a rather stiff spliffy and set off into the woods. With my mind racing I was running up the trail, nearly soiling my pants. But I made it to the top of that cliff and the climb in the cold light was quite something. Well pleased with myself, bathed in the light of the full moon I thought I must be striking quite a pose. Then I heard the sound of this really big animal that starting running circles around the rock I was sitting on. I couldn’t see nothing but I clearly heard the rhythmic stomping of hooves as something was galopping through the woods. Probably a unicorn. Needless to say it took a long while for me to come down from my rock and I ran home even faster than I came. I didn’t quite succeed to rid myself of the fear of being alone in the woods at night either.

But yesterday night everything was relaxed and I went back for some more climbing today. For the first time I also explored a bit the hills on either side of the house. There are a lot of little trails leading through the thorny shrubs and across the rocks. Above our house, just below our next neighbours I found this very old house situated in an old terraced vinyrd. It is a sweet, liitle, old ruin without a roof and with thick walls made of stone. Some of the vines growing around it must be well over hundred years old. The house has a neat little terrace built on top of what must have been a wine cellar which even has an arched ceiling. All the windows and doorways have arches too, made with really big heavy stones. So Ale and me are already making plans for how it could be restored, adding a second floor and a balcony, reviving the wine cellar and putting in one of those old woodstoves for cooking that at the same time heat the house. Troppo romantico.

Ale and me had our very first trip this weekend, something we were planning to do every other week. There are so many fanstastic places to go in the region that we really have to push on if we want to cover a bit and get to know the country. So we went up to Tripolis and then further into the Quadisha Valley.

On the way to Tripolis we stopped just outside town at a little beach club. They actually had a sandy beach, different from the ususal rough rock cliffs and even waves. To my total delight there was a guy with a body board who lent it to me. So I got my fisrt try at body boarding and it went real well. Not that I can do any manouvers but I can catch waves and ride them home. It is a real kick every time and makes you want to run straight back out to catch the next big one. Unfortunately with the waves some jellfish came in and a few got me. They’re not really mean, a bee is a lot worse, nevertheless it’s unpleasant and you wouldn’t want one to lash you in the face. They say putting piss on the burns helps. Well, have you ever tried to pee on the back of your own shoulder? And that’s just the technical concerns. In any case, I will get a body board at the next possible occasion, that’s the future.

Tripolis is beautiful, at least what’s left of the old town and we went straight to the soap souq. Soap-making has a long tradition there and they produce really nicely scented soaps based on olive oil. You can watch them cook it up and pour it into forms right there in front of you.

On Sunday morning, after an insufferably hot night, we made for the famous Quadisha Valley. There’s a cave from which springs the river that runs in the valley bottom below. There are also the last remnants of the cedar forests that once covered all of Lebanon – one tree is said to be 6000 years old (yes, three zeros!). Walking among the age old trees there is a scent, not unlike in a pine forests but much more subtle and at the same time much more charged with heat and more engulfing, that gives the place a very special atmosphere. Nothing airy but simply peaceful. The valley is also full of monasteries and little hermitages that are cut right into the face of the cliffs on either side. We climbed into one of those retreats, balancing delicately on a slim ledge while sqeezing through little doorways chiseled out of the rock. Hard to imagin that anyone could have lived there, completely exposed to the elements – beautiful nevertheless and with a view to kill for.

The valley was also the scene of some of the more nasty infighting between the Maronite Christian militias during the civil war. There is an age old family feud between the Franjies of Ehden, who once gave the country a president and Geagea’s family who are from the neighbouring town, Becharré. Long ago, in retaliation for the killing of an old woman the inhabitants from Becharré burned Ehden to the ground and killed many of its inhabitants. During the civil war Samir Geagea was the leader of the Christian Phalange militia who masacred hundreds of Palestinian civilians in the refugee camps of Sabra and Chatila, an area then controlled by the Israeli army who at the time took its orders from Ariel Sharon. He is said to have killed Toni Franjieh and his family in their own house while they were asleep. Geagea was the only warlord who was imprisoned and he spent 11 years in an underground cell untill his release two weeks ago. He is back as a Christian politician like the other warlords who are busy sharing out the power among each other now that the Syrians have left the country. The whole of Becharré is plastered with religious-looking, larger-than-life posterwalls showing Geagea in heroic poses.

What this country needs is a reconciliation programme. Not a truth and reconciliation commission like in South Africa, that never gave any justice to anyone. No, but some bridging the divides. The Chrsitians now are not really together but they cooperate. The real rift is between Christians and Muslims and that gulf is wide. I haven’t met many Muslims yet but a lot of Christians I’ve come across are fascists, full-on. If it was for them, they’d cleanse the country of everyone who is not carrying a rosary in their pocket. Often the young guys, who were too young to really experience the war are the most hardline. And everybody says they are ready in case something should happen again. It is in nobody’s interest other than the Israeli’s and to some extent the Syrians if the country slides back into civil war. The political leaders of the respective factions have actively discouraged their followers from taking any retaliatory action for the attacks in July but a few more bombs could probably be enough. At least that’s everyone’s concern. But since this is Lebanon a little political tension is not going to stop anyone from going out and having a good time. Rock on!