This blog was primary meant to be a travel blog – but since we are now sort of stuck here in Lebanon for a time being, I cant help to write some observations of the society in here.
Me and Sasi, we are constant cause of wonders in here. We have now been married for almost two years, and according to the society, we should have two kids already. Or at least one! I don’t even want to know what kind of questions my poor mother-in-law has to encounter on the matter, and luckily enough all those comments are somehow softened before they come to me. I think my beloved husband has tried all his best to explain all the nosy relatives that 1, the baby would not be very comfortable in the backpack 2, having a baby in Finland involves money (which obviously means to have some sort of decent job in there) and 3, we don’t WANT a baby yet. Deaf ears, though.
Sasis grandmother gave us a speech of her own. It was a heart-braking story of her own life. “I didn’t love my husband first when we married” she said, “only after we had a baby. I was 13 then, what did I know about love or life? Only when I was a mother, then I was able to love my husband”. My dead lord, which girl age of 13 knows anything about those issues anyway? And IS supposed to know? Oh, in case you are wondering: husband was 34 when they married, and never an easy man to live with, as far as I have understood. I didn’t have the heart to ask how much her parents have pressured her to marry him, or maybe they didn’t, who knows. Some day, I will ask. The story, however, didn’t quite work the way she wanted, I was just more sure as ever to mature first before even considering to be a mum.
Beiruti taxi drivers are famous (or notorious) of their chit-chattiness. For me, its usually the normal “how do you like Lebanon” -shit, since my Arabic is not very fluent yet, and their English is also quite basic. Of course, when it comes to have a dispute about the prize of the drive, am very, VERY fluent on coursing in perfect Lebanese. A skill well trained, believe me. When (on rare occasions) I meet an honest taxi driver, am usually so touched am almost in tears. For some reason, these honest drivers are usually Muslims. Dunno why.
Anyhow, Sasi usually tells me stories about his conversations with taxi drivers. Before – still in last summer- their favourite subject of talk was politics, as it is for all the Lebanese. No small talk about the weather (well, its the same day by day anyhow) its all about politics. But for taxi drivers, it has become a bit too hot topic after the shoot-outs two months ago. So one of the taxi drivers informed us its not very clever to keep radio on in the taxi anymore. Taxis are so called servis in here, shared with strangers that is, and you never know with whom you are in there with. As it happened to him, he had radio on in his cab and two of his costumers were supporting opposing political parties. During the news broadcast, they started to fist-fight, and driver had to kick them out to the street. After, he has been careful not to listen to the news while he has costumers.
One time one driver told us he has newborn twins. The twins, on the other hand, were still in hospital and he couldn’t go to even see them since he didn’t have the money to pay the hospital bill – and the kids were a sort of hostages in there. No social security in here, folks. But still they insist to have kids.
So every morning when Sasi goes to work, he has the same conversation over and over again: two years of marriage and no kids??? Whatta… One driver asked if we both have tested in case of infertility and helpfully offered a name of a doctor his cousins son went to… When Sasi said we don’t even want children yet he was just numb with astonishment.
Usually, a helping of old fashioned wisdoms is offered. How life is not complete without children, how marriage is not complete without children. They think, honestly, that there cant be love without babies. Like the driver today said to him, baby will mature your relationship, and also will fill your time and you wont be bored in your life anymore. Sure as hell. Sasi laughed: no need for shrinks in this country, taxis offer a free consultation on every ride!
Today, it is the Eve of St. Elias day, one of the major Maronite Christians’ saints. Kids in this Christian neighbourghood are shooting fireworks and crackers – or to put it better: shooting each others with them. Am not joking: I just witnessed a scene from the balcony where a bunch of boys had Roman Candles in their hands, shooting them towards another bunch of boys who flung some crackers on them as counter strike, daddies laughing approvingly nearby, as long as the bangers don’t hit the cars. In case this happens, they get a slap on the back of the head, but when a sparkle hit next-door-neighbourgs son, the heroic boy got a pat from his dad (aged about 25).
On the light of the exploding fireworks, in the walls of their homes you can see pockmarks of real rockets from not so long ago. Inside, the older generation (like my mother-in-law) shivers with post-traumatic stress reaction every time there is a louder bang, but no one tells the kids about the civil war, especially not the school books. Blessed amnesic nation.
Maiku
