Three Cups of Sugar with some Tea
See pictures below.
Jordan
December 2008
I pinch myself at the King Abdul Aziz International airport in Jeddah as I wait for the Sama flight number ZS3026 going to Amman. Am I really traveling again? Will I wake up soon and find myself in the Littleton library with head down on the desk and my drool stained face stuck to notes on modality, metacognition, and formative assessments? The nightmare is only a passing thought and at 7pm the plane touches down and my three week adventure starts. Well, actually, the adventure already started trying to get to the correct terminal in Jeddah.
Jeddah’s airport has two terminals about 15 miles apart from one another, one for foreign airlines and the other for Saudia Airlines. The confusing part about this is when you fly outside Saudi you are going international and one might think to go to the foreign terminal. I was flying to Jordan via Sama airlines, which is a branch of Saudia Airlines, requiring passengers to go to the Saudia terminal. My friend driving had it in his mind to go to the foreign terminal and I had it in my head thinking, “I am so happy not to be going to the foreign terminal because it is very far out”. We were deeply involved in a conversation about travel while my eyes clipped a highway sign indicating Saudia terminal to the right and foreign airlines straight ahead. I made a mental note to mention this sign. Of course, by then it is too late and we are on the highway going those extra miles all the way to the foreign terminal, there are no other options to correct this mistake. At the foreign terminal we make a u-turn and drive all those extra miles back to catch the exit to the Saudi terminal but now there are also signs pointing to the Hajj and Umjah terminals; confusing to say the least. I make it in time and check-in with ease which, apparently, is not always the case. Read on.
G McMahon posted this review online on Nov 18, 2008.
The Saudia terminal continues to be renovated. Saudia staff are totally uninterested in being helpful or proving information. Signage is awful, you are left to try desk after desk asking where to check in, and the staff simply shrug their shoulder and gesture you away, continuing to file their nails and smoke their cigarettes. Business lounge has no power outlets or wifi. Food is cold and stale. Toilets are filthy and stink of urine; no paper.
I will say the renovations are an improvement in the departure lounge with it being newer and cleaner. It is hard to understand the departure announcements so I tend to ask and re-ask for the departure gate and hover there.
The other pre-departure fun I had was to go to the doctor two days before flying to get drugs for my nasty head cold or Hajji flu or sinus infection. Never did find out what it was but it stuck to me like super glue. My ears were aching and I was all congested and did not want to fly like this. The doctor prescribed a nasal spray and two sets of pills. The nasal spray and one set of pills got me through.
Once on the ground in Amman I am in for a big surprise. I was expecting to see my Jordanian friend outside the baggage claim area and then to meet with my California friends at their hotel. This is why I was caught off guard when I departed the ramp into the gate area and there was a man standing in my way as if to direct me to follow the mad dash to the visa area, when in fact, it was my Jordanian friend Abdelaziz. He finagled special permission to meet me at the gate and he was all dressed up in a suit and tie plus he had a “new look” as he told me about his new hair style. He really kick-started my trip on a high note. To top that off, he fooled me into thinking my friends were waiting for me at the hotel, instead they were down stairs waiting outside baggage claim; another bonus.
The three of them just that day finished their tour in Jordan. This left us with a day together before they had to return home. With Abdelaziz at the wheel, we crisscross the city going to the car museum, the roman theatre, the old part of town and a new part of town at the first circle and Rainbow street. Amman has eight major roundabouts and they are used as landmarks but those darn roundabouts are not numbered so how is a foreigner to know which roundabout they are at?
Close to roundabout one there are two very nice gift shops to support Jordan’s nature reserves and the development projects. Wild Jordan is a branded division of The Royal Society for the Conservation of Nature. Their mission is to “develop viable nature-based businesses within and around RSCN’s protected areas in order to bring tangible economic and social benefits to local communities and generate financial, political, and popular support for nature conservation throughout the Kingdom”. A few years back I stayed at Feynan Eco-lodge and marveled at the design of the place, the service, and the food. If you ever come to Jordan, and I think you should, you must stay at one of their campsites, lodges or guest houses. All the information is at http://www.rscn.org.jo/. I can also recommend a very good guide and friend.
The Wild Jordan Nature Center is a wonderful place to stop and take in the views of old Amman and to do a little shopping. They offer unique crafts and gifts made by the people living around Jordan's nature reserves. Their items range from silver jewelry, painted ostrich eggs, goat leather goods, teas, olive oil soap, candles, and embroidery work. I am impressed by the craftsmanship, creativity, and presentation. For traveling sake, I keep my purchases small and thought a painted ostrich egg fragment and soap would travel well.
In walking distance is Jordan River Designs. This boutique displays items generated by the Jordan River Designs Project. The project employs 16 women and contracts with another 500 women to embroider traditional and contemporary home furnishings, gift items and fashion accessories.The embroidery project was set up to assist Palestinian refugee women with extra income, as well as to maintain and promote traditional Palestinian heritage while using a traditional cultural technique. As the project grew, other women from the surrounding area joined the project and different embroidery techniques from the different areas of Jordan were introduced. Since its inception, over 1500 women have benefited from the project and over 3 million Jordanian Dinars have been paid to the beneficiaries.
The quality of work is also high and hard to resist. I feel shopping at these types of places is a great way to support the local economy, women’s projects, the natural reserves and to preserve traditional arts and crafts. Needless to say, the three of us are impressed with what we see and learn.
We end our short visit together with a wonderful meal at a traditional restaurant joined by a mutual friend Rami. The setting is in a Bedouin tent with couches outlining the wall area and then big comfortable chairs by a large table with a traditional decorated circular tray on top. The set menu starts with mezze, an abundant array of salads and dips, and since we were all hungry we waste little time digging in. We pause to remember the mix grill is coming soon and not to fill up on the mezze but it taste so good it is hard to stop. After the mix grill a large fruit basket and sweets are set before us. Stuffed beyond belief, we sadly say our good-byes and go our separate ways but now sharing the love for Jordan.
I still have three days in Jordan and with Jenay’s encouragement not to miss the opportunity to dine on Abdelaziz’s cooked vegetables over an open fire in a Bedu tent and then to sleep there with the family, I decided why not. Abdelaziz and I drive to Wadi Rum and do a short tour inside the desert at sunset. We stop to take pictures by a unique rock formation and realize it is getting cold. I am glad to know a fire will soon be available in side the tent. Abdelaziz does his culinary magic with the vegetables and a little salt while I drink small cups of sugar loaded tea. Last summer I read the book, “Three Cups of Tea” about the ex-climber building schools in Pakistan and Afghanistan, and now while drinking my tea, I come up with a title for my book, “Three Cups of Sugar with some Tea”. After dinner Abdelaziz leaves to find drinking water. No sooner than he leaves the tent, women of the family come from the other side of the tent to sit down and talk. The brother is still on my side of the tent so we do our best to communicate in Arabic, English and laughs until the headlights reappear and the women disappear. Sleep comes early in the tent and with the cold desert air, piles of blankets, and nothing to do or think about, I sleep like the dead until sunrise.
Now it was our turn to go our separate ways. Abdelaziz to his family to celebrate the Eid holiday and me back to Amman. He drives me to a bus park and no sooner than when we stop a scout is at the door asking for the destination. Avoiding all the offers for the two hour taxi ride I am escorted to the three hour mini bus going to Amman. Luckily I get to sit close to the front of the bus because I like to see how the buses are decorated. Each has their own style with trims, tassels, trinkets, and air fresheners. This one has fringe outlining everything from the dash board and the gear box to the steering column. Hanging from the rearview mirror is a big pink tassel. Would you ever expect to see this on a Greyhound bus in the states? The three hour drive ended at a big bus park outside Amman. The ten minute taxi ride costs me more than the bus, takes me closer to my hotel and I walk the last leg to stretch my legs after all that sitting.
The rest of the day I walk and walk and find myself back at first circle and Rainbow. I pause at the Good Bookstore and it is nicely decorated for Christmas. You can tell what kind of area you are in by the types of stores. This area caters to the expat community and has everything from high end stores, to cafes and restaurants, and books stores. This bookstore also has a coffee counter in the back with a few small tables scattered about and they are playing music and selling note cards. A few expats are in there with laptops and cell phones drinking coffee and tapping away. I sit down to write a letter, to sip sugar controlled coffee (I added it myself) and to soak in the atmosphere. Another artisan store catches my attention and I browse around day dreaming how nice it would be to have some of their “superlative” pottery pieces like the business card says. The shop is called Bawabet Al Sharq run by Majdi Qubti and the pottery studio is also in Amman. Their website is http://www.jordancrafts.com/ and maybe when the mood strikes me I will order the sconces.
I continue my walk around this part of town admiring the old buildings and clusters of homing pigeons whirling above in the sky. Their wings are like silk carpets as they turn from a gray to a shimmering white as they dart about in the late afternoon sky. Apparently, raising homing pigeons is a hobby in this region along with Syria and Turkey. At times while scanning the sky I could spot five different sets of pigeons flying in their groups.
I decide to walk until I get really lost knowing I can always take a taxi back to the hotel or until I recognize a landmark. I spot a sign to the old city and follow it taking me down many, many stairs until I am on the outskirts of the old city. Amman, being built on seven hills, has many long staircases. Where the stairs end the material shops begin. Narrow streets and alleys are clogged with vans unloading their trucks and people doing their Eid shopping. It is Eid eve and the old city is alive and buzzing like a busy bees’ nest. People are every where and each area of the market has its own thing going on. To get the full sensation, also image the roads jammed with traffic in a cloud of exhaust. Buses, taxis, and cars are all jockeying for position to move and they are not afraid to use their horns. The sidewalks are swarming with people, shop keepers are yelling out in a cadence announcing their specials, buses are chugging along simultaneously unloading and loading people and belching billows of exhaust, smoke rises from the kebab area, and the piles of fresh produce add color to the otherwise dingy backdrop.
I flow with the crowd with scarf over my nose and mouth to get some relief from the pollution. I pause in trinket shops, buy some sweets for the students I will see the next day, sample cookies, skip butcher alley with slabs of beef and entrails, and arrive at the big mosque. This I recognize and feel better but still not sure which direction to the hotel. As I start to walk away from the core shopping area I spot a rug store. This place is amazing. Up stairs it has piles and piles and more piles of woven carpets. This shop has been handed down from generation to generation and the inventory is ample. There are sheep skins, traditional Arab winter coats more like a cap than a jacket, and other commonly seen souvenirs to add to the mix. It is my kind of store. Upstairs in the back room they are just finishing cooking dinner and bring down the sizzling plate of beef. Three men sit around with the flat bread tearing the bread apart to grab pieces of meat. They insist I join them but with my meal waiting for me at the hotel I decline graciously and step out into the darkness.
The last day I walk without a destination curious to see where I would end up. The streets take me to stairs going up to another street where there is another set of stairs going up. At the top of the stairs I opt for the left turn because it continues to go up and I want to see the view from on top. Walking along I come upon a smaller set of stairs going up and to my surprise I am at Rainbow Street once again. This time I explore all the side streets on this quiet Eid morning. People and families are out for walk too and it is a nice leisurely morning. On one of the side streets I come across a doorway with a guard standing in it smiling and gesturing for me to come in. Not sure what this place is until I get inside and it is a bookstore with a café upstairs. The place is called Books At Café. Inside I linger over the books in this very tiny shop and watch as crowds come in going straight upstairs. Eventually I make my way upstairs and I am delighted with the layout and ambiance of the place. The left side, with big windows, has nice views of Amman because, as you recall, I kept going up. People appear to be enjoying their brunch or gossip time or quiet time reading books.
The right side has the bar with smaller rooms for nightlife. These are also stylish and trendy with big, bold wall paper, intimate corners, sleek furniture, and tasteful accessories. It is a hip place and I regret not being able to stay longer because I am not ready to sit yet. I move along wandering the streets again and end by the old section again but by day it looks totally different. Shops are closed. There are fewer people. The steady stream of buses is now down to a trickle. The excitement is no longer in the air. I walk back in the direction of the hotel thinking I have done a pretty good job of getting to know Rainbow Street and old downtown.
I spend my last night in Amman with two past students from Al Hada. They are brothers living in Amman continuing their studies in high school and university. They are as excited to see me as I them. Osama, the younger one, misses Al Hada and the diversity of friends he had there. Ahmed is in love and wants to marry his girlfriend of three years but the girl’s father says not until he has a good job and a house. If that was the case in the states, not many people would be getting married. It is very nice spending time with them and seeing what nice young men they are becoming.
Back at the hotel I pack my bags waiting in anticipation to experience Beirut.
Coming in the Lebanon letter will be food highlights, crazy roads and crazy drivers, a soap museum, an Al Hada reunion, Christmas lights, and snow.
Jordan
December 2008
I pinch myself at the King Abdul Aziz International airport in Jeddah as I wait for the Sama flight number ZS3026 going to Amman. Am I really traveling again? Will I wake up soon and find myself in the Littleton library with head down on the desk and my drool stained face stuck to notes on modality, metacognition, and formative assessments? The nightmare is only a passing thought and at 7pm the plane touches down and my three week adventure starts. Well, actually, the adventure already started trying to get to the correct terminal in Jeddah.
Jeddah’s airport has two terminals about 15 miles apart from one another, one for foreign airlines and the other for Saudia Airlines. The confusing part about this is when you fly outside Saudi you are going international and one might think to go to the foreign terminal. I was flying to Jordan via Sama airlines, which is a branch of Saudia Airlines, requiring passengers to go to the Saudia terminal. My friend driving had it in his mind to go to the foreign terminal and I had it in my head thinking, “I am so happy not to be going to the foreign terminal because it is very far out”. We were deeply involved in a conversation about travel while my eyes clipped a highway sign indicating Saudia terminal to the right and foreign airlines straight ahead. I made a mental note to mention this sign. Of course, by then it is too late and we are on the highway going those extra miles all the way to the foreign terminal, there are no other options to correct this mistake. At the foreign terminal we make a u-turn and drive all those extra miles back to catch the exit to the Saudi terminal but now there are also signs pointing to the Hajj and Umjah terminals; confusing to say the least. I make it in time and check-in with ease which, apparently, is not always the case. Read on.
G McMahon posted this review online on Nov 18, 2008.
The Saudia terminal continues to be renovated. Saudia staff are totally uninterested in being helpful or proving information. Signage is awful, you are left to try desk after desk asking where to check in, and the staff simply shrug their shoulder and gesture you away, continuing to file their nails and smoke their cigarettes. Business lounge has no power outlets or wifi. Food is cold and stale. Toilets are filthy and stink of urine; no paper.
I will say the renovations are an improvement in the departure lounge with it being newer and cleaner. It is hard to understand the departure announcements so I tend to ask and re-ask for the departure gate and hover there.
The other pre-departure fun I had was to go to the doctor two days before flying to get drugs for my nasty head cold or Hajji flu or sinus infection. Never did find out what it was but it stuck to me like super glue. My ears were aching and I was all congested and did not want to fly like this. The doctor prescribed a nasal spray and two sets of pills. The nasal spray and one set of pills got me through.
Once on the ground in Amman I am in for a big surprise. I was expecting to see my Jordanian friend outside the baggage claim area and then to meet with my California friends at their hotel. This is why I was caught off guard when I departed the ramp into the gate area and there was a man standing in my way as if to direct me to follow the mad dash to the visa area, when in fact, it was my Jordanian friend Abdelaziz. He finagled special permission to meet me at the gate and he was all dressed up in a suit and tie plus he had a “new look” as he told me about his new hair style. He really kick-started my trip on a high note. To top that off, he fooled me into thinking my friends were waiting for me at the hotel, instead they were down stairs waiting outside baggage claim; another bonus.
The three of them just that day finished their tour in Jordan. This left us with a day together before they had to return home. With Abdelaziz at the wheel, we crisscross the city going to the car museum, the roman theatre, the old part of town and a new part of town at the first circle and Rainbow street. Amman has eight major roundabouts and they are used as landmarks but those darn roundabouts are not numbered so how is a foreigner to know which roundabout they are at?
Close to roundabout one there are two very nice gift shops to support Jordan’s nature reserves and the development projects. Wild Jordan is a branded division of The Royal Society for the Conservation of Nature. Their mission is to “develop viable nature-based businesses within and around RSCN’s protected areas in order to bring tangible economic and social benefits to local communities and generate financial, political, and popular support for nature conservation throughout the Kingdom”. A few years back I stayed at Feynan Eco-lodge and marveled at the design of the place, the service, and the food. If you ever come to Jordan, and I think you should, you must stay at one of their campsites, lodges or guest houses. All the information is at http://www.rscn.org.jo/. I can also recommend a very good guide and friend.
The Wild Jordan Nature Center is a wonderful place to stop and take in the views of old Amman and to do a little shopping. They offer unique crafts and gifts made by the people living around Jordan's nature reserves. Their items range from silver jewelry, painted ostrich eggs, goat leather goods, teas, olive oil soap, candles, and embroidery work. I am impressed by the craftsmanship, creativity, and presentation. For traveling sake, I keep my purchases small and thought a painted ostrich egg fragment and soap would travel well.
In walking distance is Jordan River Designs. This boutique displays items generated by the Jordan River Designs Project. The project employs 16 women and contracts with another 500 women to embroider traditional and contemporary home furnishings, gift items and fashion accessories.The embroidery project was set up to assist Palestinian refugee women with extra income, as well as to maintain and promote traditional Palestinian heritage while using a traditional cultural technique. As the project grew, other women from the surrounding area joined the project and different embroidery techniques from the different areas of Jordan were introduced. Since its inception, over 1500 women have benefited from the project and over 3 million Jordanian Dinars have been paid to the beneficiaries.
The quality of work is also high and hard to resist. I feel shopping at these types of places is a great way to support the local economy, women’s projects, the natural reserves and to preserve traditional arts and crafts. Needless to say, the three of us are impressed with what we see and learn.
We end our short visit together with a wonderful meal at a traditional restaurant joined by a mutual friend Rami. The setting is in a Bedouin tent with couches outlining the wall area and then big comfortable chairs by a large table with a traditional decorated circular tray on top. The set menu starts with mezze, an abundant array of salads and dips, and since we were all hungry we waste little time digging in. We pause to remember the mix grill is coming soon and not to fill up on the mezze but it taste so good it is hard to stop. After the mix grill a large fruit basket and sweets are set before us. Stuffed beyond belief, we sadly say our good-byes and go our separate ways but now sharing the love for Jordan.
I still have three days in Jordan and with Jenay’s encouragement not to miss the opportunity to dine on Abdelaziz’s cooked vegetables over an open fire in a Bedu tent and then to sleep there with the family, I decided why not. Abdelaziz and I drive to Wadi Rum and do a short tour inside the desert at sunset. We stop to take pictures by a unique rock formation and realize it is getting cold. I am glad to know a fire will soon be available in side the tent. Abdelaziz does his culinary magic with the vegetables and a little salt while I drink small cups of sugar loaded tea. Last summer I read the book, “Three Cups of Tea” about the ex-climber building schools in Pakistan and Afghanistan, and now while drinking my tea, I come up with a title for my book, “Three Cups of Sugar with some Tea”. After dinner Abdelaziz leaves to find drinking water. No sooner than he leaves the tent, women of the family come from the other side of the tent to sit down and talk. The brother is still on my side of the tent so we do our best to communicate in Arabic, English and laughs until the headlights reappear and the women disappear. Sleep comes early in the tent and with the cold desert air, piles of blankets, and nothing to do or think about, I sleep like the dead until sunrise.
Now it was our turn to go our separate ways. Abdelaziz to his family to celebrate the Eid holiday and me back to Amman. He drives me to a bus park and no sooner than when we stop a scout is at the door asking for the destination. Avoiding all the offers for the two hour taxi ride I am escorted to the three hour mini bus going to Amman. Luckily I get to sit close to the front of the bus because I like to see how the buses are decorated. Each has their own style with trims, tassels, trinkets, and air fresheners. This one has fringe outlining everything from the dash board and the gear box to the steering column. Hanging from the rearview mirror is a big pink tassel. Would you ever expect to see this on a Greyhound bus in the states? The three hour drive ended at a big bus park outside Amman. The ten minute taxi ride costs me more than the bus, takes me closer to my hotel and I walk the last leg to stretch my legs after all that sitting.
The rest of the day I walk and walk and find myself back at first circle and Rainbow. I pause at the Good Bookstore and it is nicely decorated for Christmas. You can tell what kind of area you are in by the types of stores. This area caters to the expat community and has everything from high end stores, to cafes and restaurants, and books stores. This bookstore also has a coffee counter in the back with a few small tables scattered about and they are playing music and selling note cards. A few expats are in there with laptops and cell phones drinking coffee and tapping away. I sit down to write a letter, to sip sugar controlled coffee (I added it myself) and to soak in the atmosphere. Another artisan store catches my attention and I browse around day dreaming how nice it would be to have some of their “superlative” pottery pieces like the business card says. The shop is called Bawabet Al Sharq run by Majdi Qubti and the pottery studio is also in Amman. Their website is http://www.jordancrafts.com/ and maybe when the mood strikes me I will order the sconces.
I continue my walk around this part of town admiring the old buildings and clusters of homing pigeons whirling above in the sky. Their wings are like silk carpets as they turn from a gray to a shimmering white as they dart about in the late afternoon sky. Apparently, raising homing pigeons is a hobby in this region along with Syria and Turkey. At times while scanning the sky I could spot five different sets of pigeons flying in their groups.
I decide to walk until I get really lost knowing I can always take a taxi back to the hotel or until I recognize a landmark. I spot a sign to the old city and follow it taking me down many, many stairs until I am on the outskirts of the old city. Amman, being built on seven hills, has many long staircases. Where the stairs end the material shops begin. Narrow streets and alleys are clogged with vans unloading their trucks and people doing their Eid shopping. It is Eid eve and the old city is alive and buzzing like a busy bees’ nest. People are every where and each area of the market has its own thing going on. To get the full sensation, also image the roads jammed with traffic in a cloud of exhaust. Buses, taxis, and cars are all jockeying for position to move and they are not afraid to use their horns. The sidewalks are swarming with people, shop keepers are yelling out in a cadence announcing their specials, buses are chugging along simultaneously unloading and loading people and belching billows of exhaust, smoke rises from the kebab area, and the piles of fresh produce add color to the otherwise dingy backdrop.
I flow with the crowd with scarf over my nose and mouth to get some relief from the pollution. I pause in trinket shops, buy some sweets for the students I will see the next day, sample cookies, skip butcher alley with slabs of beef and entrails, and arrive at the big mosque. This I recognize and feel better but still not sure which direction to the hotel. As I start to walk away from the core shopping area I spot a rug store. This place is amazing. Up stairs it has piles and piles and more piles of woven carpets. This shop has been handed down from generation to generation and the inventory is ample. There are sheep skins, traditional Arab winter coats more like a cap than a jacket, and other commonly seen souvenirs to add to the mix. It is my kind of store. Upstairs in the back room they are just finishing cooking dinner and bring down the sizzling plate of beef. Three men sit around with the flat bread tearing the bread apart to grab pieces of meat. They insist I join them but with my meal waiting for me at the hotel I decline graciously and step out into the darkness.
The last day I walk without a destination curious to see where I would end up. The streets take me to stairs going up to another street where there is another set of stairs going up. At the top of the stairs I opt for the left turn because it continues to go up and I want to see the view from on top. Walking along I come upon a smaller set of stairs going up and to my surprise I am at Rainbow Street once again. This time I explore all the side streets on this quiet Eid morning. People and families are out for walk too and it is a nice leisurely morning. On one of the side streets I come across a doorway with a guard standing in it smiling and gesturing for me to come in. Not sure what this place is until I get inside and it is a bookstore with a café upstairs. The place is called Books At Café. Inside I linger over the books in this very tiny shop and watch as crowds come in going straight upstairs. Eventually I make my way upstairs and I am delighted with the layout and ambiance of the place. The left side, with big windows, has nice views of Amman because, as you recall, I kept going up. People appear to be enjoying their brunch or gossip time or quiet time reading books.
The right side has the bar with smaller rooms for nightlife. These are also stylish and trendy with big, bold wall paper, intimate corners, sleek furniture, and tasteful accessories. It is a hip place and I regret not being able to stay longer because I am not ready to sit yet. I move along wandering the streets again and end by the old section again but by day it looks totally different. Shops are closed. There are fewer people. The steady stream of buses is now down to a trickle. The excitement is no longer in the air. I walk back in the direction of the hotel thinking I have done a pretty good job of getting to know Rainbow Street and old downtown.
I spend my last night in Amman with two past students from Al Hada. They are brothers living in Amman continuing their studies in high school and university. They are as excited to see me as I them. Osama, the younger one, misses Al Hada and the diversity of friends he had there. Ahmed is in love and wants to marry his girlfriend of three years but the girl’s father says not until he has a good job and a house. If that was the case in the states, not many people would be getting married. It is very nice spending time with them and seeing what nice young men they are becoming.
Back at the hotel I pack my bags waiting in anticipation to experience Beirut.
Coming in the Lebanon letter will be food highlights, crazy roads and crazy drivers, a soap museum, an Al Hada reunion, Christmas lights, and snow.
posted by Becky of Arabia at 9:33 AM
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