Doing Laundry

I'm in a laundry at... In Alexandria Bay, NY... An experience. After two weeks of traveling, I was forced to do laundry. My approach so far was to buy cheap cloths when needed then dispose of them when become dirty. I could not find any cheap cloths in upstate NY and the heat forced me to change my cloths almost twice daily... My supply of new cloths finished... The only resolution was to clean the few pieces left with me... What an experience.

A process that usually require $5, cost around 10. I started by making mistakes at the detergent disposing vending machine. That's what it says. My first dollar went to twin laundry has. The second one went on the softener. What the hell is a softener? After 2 dollars, I got my two detergent boxes. Apparently, I needed two because I have to separate my whites from the colors.

The washing machine said: put detergent, put cloths, close lid, insert coins then start machine. Don't believe them. I did just that. Except the coins dispenser was not working and I had to use another machine. It is easy to remove the cloths... But how do you take the detergent out again? Here goes another dollar. Buy a new box and do the whole process again. This time I learned my lesson. I added the detergent after I inserted all th coins and before I chose the cycle.

I'm writing this while waiting for the drying, which could be another blog.

Here are some pictures to support this story.


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Location:Alexandria Bay,United States

Stories from the Haji

I spent few days with the Haji, my wife's 88 years old grand mother. I did my best to get from her the memories of the days past. Here is the juice of 4 days discussions and chats.

Her dad bought a house in Saqiet El Janzeer. In her youth, their was a stream that run through her neighborhood. There were a potter who used the stream to make his pottery. Her house was on the wall of the French brigade in Beirut. She was born in 1926, so I am assuming her stories go back to early 40's.

She mentioned that there were French officers and soldiers served by Sinigali helpers. Her sister used to like the French soldiers in the day, but scared of them at night. I presumed this girl was Hdieh, the mysterious sister that I have yet to meet. One story she told me that her sister used to stand under the window of one officer and sings something like: give me checks, give me gum. She sang it in English. I am wondering why English was used by the French? And the "check" she referred to was the " checlets" gum that used to be popular in my young days. I am wondering if it exited back in the 30's and 40's as well, or she was mixing between different eras.

Based on her description of her dad's house, I have strong beliefs she used to live next to my grandpa's house in Saquiet. She talked abut the huge jemaizeh tree awhile was next to her house. My grandpa was next to a jemaizeh tree. She talked about the French brigades... My grandpa was behind the UN brigades in the area... Which was known to be French head quarters before. Did she live next to him and did not know? She does not know.

She said that her dad was forced to move to Fadieh... A suburb of Beirut. It was not clear why they moved. There, she showed she had her encounters with the beauty of nature. Her mom kept a fruitful03288676 dr. Wadi al no3man..



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From the Archive: A trip to Beirut

While browsing the old folders on my home server, I found the below memories I wrote back in 2002. I thought to copy/paste them here without any editing for eternal safe keeping.

Contemplations about my Trip to Lebanon 2002-07-23

Tuesday 16 July 2002

We headed to the airport around 6:15. The driver was an African Arab… either from Sudan or Somalia. He had a low exhausted voice… I suspect from smoking. He was remorseful about the delay and blaming on the wrong directions given by the company.

The check in was smooth. We had to talk our way to get a seat on the exit. The earlier booking was not accurate. We walked to the gates. Luay and Sana took the caddy cart. I walked the distance. The moving belt was not moving… but I walked through it.

We went to the restaurant. As usual, Sana was arguing about the location of the restaurant… although she knows she does not know about directions. As usual, again, she was wrong. A hostess showed us the way. We had a couple of drink then we went to the Duty Free. I did not find any item of interest. Our main expenditure was bubble gums. We saw Wadi Jureidini there and we chatted for a while. Gate 14 faced the duty free. We had a little walk to do.

The flight was smooth. We had turbulence during the first 15 minutes. After that, it was like butter flowing on oil. My seat was next the emergency exit. Sana and Luay sat in seats behind me. To my left, there was a Lebanese gentleman who I suspect was a Durzi. He works in Saudi Arabia and now is moving to Dubai. I gathered he is married with one son. He was hesitant about giving information about himself although he was friendly. We chatted about UAE, Saudi and getting comfortable in the cultural move from Riyadh to Dubai. He has a sister who works with HCT and a brother in law who works at AUS. They live in Sharjah.

On my right, there was another quiet Lebanese gentleman. We chatted briefly about HCT and it budget. Beyond that, he did not say anything.

Since Sana ordered sea food… we had our meal quiet early. The food was good but not tasty. I finished the food quiet early and had to carry the plates on my lap for a long time.

During the flight, I tried to read a book called “Political Stories”… but it was the usual Arabic grinning about the political situation. I read the first few pages without interest. Then browsed through the remaining pages quickly and put it away. I doubt I will read it again.

Then I moved to reading the “Messages from the Masters”. It did not attract me. I presume it is another money making attempt trying to tell people there is more to life than what they know. I know I will finish this book… one day.

I asked for Al Diyar newspaper. I skimmed it very quickly then put it away. I felt I have no interest with Politics. At my age… it is enough to read the headlines to know the content. Politics, in general, became predictable.

We reached Beirut and walked to the Security check with Wadi. It was smooth. Wadi sounded so pessimistic. He had the tendency of believing negative ideas about Lebanon far easier than seeing a living a positive situation. I was wondering why! Is it a political stand due to his beliefs or that he knows things I do not know! I wondered without asking hoping to discover it one day.

We reached Beirut around 12. Hadi, Mirna, Rula and their kids were waiting for us. Hadi looks smart as ever. Mirna still in her charm although se already had a baby. Rula was elegant and beautiful as always. I felt love energizing me when I saw my family. We went to my in-laws house. After kisses and hugs, we stayed chatting till 3 am. We went to sleep around that time.

Wednesday 17 July 2002

We woke up late.
We went to Hospital to help Hayat. We visited their house for the first time.
We drove to my daddy’s house in Rolla’s car.
We slept there.
The view was gorgeous.

Thursday 18 July 2002

We Slept at Daddy’s house.
We had a chat all day log about politics…

Friday 19 July 2002

Rula picked us up and took us to her house. Had delicious Manakish which I regretted later because I felt stuffed and had headaches. Rolla tool us to my in-laws to pay farewell to Hajji who was going to Canada the next day. We met uncle Walid and Hanan. Nizar and his daughter came and had a good talk. Apparently, Hanan and Nizar are not talking.

We went to Hadi’s to sleep there.

Saturday 20 July 2002
We went to Mirna’s father ranch. We swam. I was called Casper.

Sunday 21 July 2002
We went to Saida and had delicious Fool plate. Then we walked through the old Market. We ate Cheese Pie from the old Al Baba sweat’s shop. We went around Dhbabneh palace.

We met a doctor that I forgot his name. He is married to a Romanian lady. He has grown up children although he looked young. Talked about business in Lebanon and he sounded encouraging.

We drove the car to Jizin for Sana to see the waterfalls. We had fruits at the “Waterfall View” restaurant while Sana energized her self from the fall of waters. We drove the back way to Sawfar passing through Shouf Mountains. We reached Sawfar around 6 pm to attend Ahmad’s son birthday.

For the first time in 25 years, I met most of the Fawzi family. There were tones of children and grandchildren. Some of whom I remember now are:

Uncle Fawzi and Elena. Caritas and Tariq and their 5 daughters. One of them already married to nice, but arrogant person. As cute as ever Maria, her husband Riyad and their 2 daughters and son Karim. Ida, her lovely son Ahmad and her 2 daughters. Toufic and his wife Lucia and their daughter. And Ahmad’s children.

We went to Hadi’s to sleep. We slept early.

Monday 22 July 2002
I went to Douma through Jubeil. I took a service to Hilo station then a bus to Jubeil. I hired a taxi to drive to Douma which was 44 Km. Checked in Room 205 after I chatted with the hotel manager.

Tuesday 23 July 2002

The Top Songs on the day of my Birth

The top song on the UK chart was:



While on the US charts, weirdly enough, was:




While its English version was song by Dean Martin:



More will come once I find them out!

Allen's Midnight in Paris

Just finished Woody Allen's brilliant movie: Midnight in Paris... Reliving the greatness of the 20's and interacting with the "lost generation" surreal great artists of humanity through the eyes of today is brilliant. Struggle between love and obligation, dreaming and reality, doing what is passionate and what is right... People look for golden age outside their real themselves...Watching it with Wikipedia on your side for referencing is enlightening experience.

This movie deserves more than a watch. But, at this point, here are some of what I got to reflect on in the future:

- Stein: we all fear death and question our place in the universe, the artist job is not to succumb to despair, but to find an antidote to the emptiness of existence.

- Gill: how can anyone come up with a book, or painting, or symphony or sculpture that can compete with a great city... Look around [Paris]... Every street, every boulevard has its special art form. And when you think that in cold violent meaningless universe that Paris exists, these lights... Com'n...there is nothing happening on Jupiter or Mars or Neptune, but from way out of space you can see these lights, the cafes, people drinking, singing... I mean for all we know, Paris is the hottest spot in the Universe.

- "you inhabit two worlds, so far I see nothing strange"... In the 20's, this is normal. now it is strange!

- "Pablo is the greater artist, but Matese is a greater painter". An interesting distinction between an artist an a painter.

- Everyone consider the other age is the golden age...

- these people don't have antibiotics.

- Writers are full of words but lack emotions.

My favorite new movie. Transformational experience.

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