DAYS 14, 15 LEBANON (BEIRUT) -PALESTINIAN REFUGEE CAMP & FOUNDER OF CEDAR REVOLUTION

Hello friends and family,

So another few days have passed in this beautiful country, and my outlook on Beirut (other than the smoking of course) has changed 180 degrees. I LOVE this city and this country, including the people here! How quickly my tune changes when you meet the right people…

Again, forgive my ramblings, I just have so much to report back!

So yesterday Zach and I met with the most inspiring of our interviewees yet: Jad Asaoui, a 46 year old father of two boys, who affected change in the government without the use of weapons. He and six friends got together in 2001 and began planting the seeds for the Cedar revolution that would take place March 15th, 2005, one month after the assasination of then-prime minister Rafik Hariri. Zach and I were in complete awe of him. First of all, these six friends were best friends–normal guys–one was in broadcast journalism, one in print journalism, an advertising creative, two artists, and a teacher, they’d have dinner together, go out etc. and throw around ideas about how they would kick Syria out of their country as any friends would talk about “if I were playing for the New York Giants, I would…” never in a million years realizing how they would begin this massive peaceful revolution that would inspire half the country’s population (1.5 million people) to take to the streets and protest the Syrians in government and eventually kick them out. He said it started with six, then the day of Hariri’s assasination (by the Syrians), they recruited 200 people, and then it snowballed from there. He said, “SMS was the best tool ever invented. We could send ten thousand text messages every ten seconds with this machine we rented.” The advertising creative (from Saatchi, a well known international ad agency) did all the designs printing and designing flyers, stickers, posters etc. for the great event, while Samir and Jad, both journalists, sat together and wrote out their version of the “Declaration of Independence” for Lebanon and used all their contacts in the media/newspaper world to get it printed. It ended up on the front page of ”Le Monde” in France which then sent the story around the world. They got a youth movement organized, and before they knew it, March 15th came around and a million and a half proud Lebanese showed up to show their solidarity to the nation. (very reminiscent of Obama’s election!) This would lead to the Syrians realizing they couldn’t control the people and left Lebanon for good. The photos and footage he showed us are beyond description. Four of his best friends and the founders of the Cedar Revolution ended up being assasinated by the Lebanese CIA who were in cahoots with the Syrians. He told us a horrifying story of him having dinner with his best friend, Samir (the spokesperson of the Revolution)–a friend he’d talk to twenty times a day and see eachother every single day, leaving eachtother than night after having dinner together, and the next morning, a car bomb exploding and killing Samir, who left a wife and two children…could you imagine? This then happened three more times to him. He now only parks in his own home grounds or with secured government parking where he can trust the guards…All four times his friends were assasinated, they had valet’ed their cars at an unknown garage and the bombs were planted there. I must say, when he drove us home that night after we had gone out, Zach and I were a little scared to get in his car…What an incredible guy though. He is now the director of broadast for Al Arabia, whose viewership eclipses 87 million viewers.

What a HUGE lesson to hear that all his experiences and victories were achieved without the use of a weapon and that they were normal guys who decided “enough is enough”, took matters into their own hands, and affected incredible governmental, societal change with passion, dedication, friendship and most importantly peace.

He said America had such huge potential to do the same and that it was the Americans themselves, the people, who had the potential to affect the most change around the world. He also agreed with Robert Fisk, saying that the middle eastern conflict was their fight, not ours.

I couldn’t believe though, after all he’d seen, with all his friends lost, that his outlook was so positive, so optimistic. What an incredible guy.

We ended up going out with Jad that night to a bar in Jamaizi along with Lena, our fixer (and now our friend)…She literally knows EVERYONE in Beirut, it’s unbelievable. She told us stories about taking out Ted Koppel when he was in town and all the trouble they got into together!  She’s an incredible woman too, was a news anchor for twelve years for one of the most widely watched english channels in the middle east. She was actually Jad’s teacher…anyway, we went to a few bars, very New York in their feel, with a cool east village vibe, cozy lounge- bars with hip looking patrons, and skinny-jeans clad DJ’s playing indie folk music, and tapas style appetizers. Of course the smoke got to Zach and I, and by the time we decided to hit another bar, Zach couldn’t keep his eyes open and my throat had officially closed up. Lena said that we would never make it as real foreign correspondents if we kept up our ‘soft’ ways with no smoking and no drinking. We looked down at our waters and soft drinks on tap, and were slightly embarrassed at how “un-edgy” we were..

Oh, I have the funniest story. So Miki called me while we were in one of the bars, so I went outside to take the call and catch up with her. As you all know, my voice kind of carries (heh heh) and I guess it was pretty late and people in the neighborhood were sleeping. (you’d think if you’ve rented a flat in Jamaizi, the most well known bar street in Beirut, that you’d be a little more liberal when it came to noise) But all of a sudden, I feel a rock hit my leg. I dismiss it thinking it was nothing, then a second later, a shard of glass hits my leg again and stings me, at which point I look up realizing someone was throwing something at me. I initially thought it was going to be a drunk punk kid on the balcony throwing glass stones… But I look up (and please picture a gorgeous second-floor Italian wrought iron balcony with perfectly sculpted moldings on the facade, white wooden venetian shutters, and beautiful flowers draping over the balcony interlaced with the wrought iron) and a plump, elderly lady with short white hair in a billowy white house coat, her body illuminated from the outdoor lamp, is looking at me  with a completely expressionless face. She is calmly throwing rocks at me, one by one, carefully taking aim before she threw the next one. She didn’t say a single word. She just calmly threw the glass rocks at me. I looked at her incredulously wondering why she didn’t first ask if I could keep my voice down (I never remember how loud I am) but I apologized for making a ruckus and retreated sheepishly back into the bar.

Anyway, we had a good laugh and great conversation with Lena and Jad and he graciously offered to drive us back to the hotel.

This morning, we met with Ziad Abs from the Free Patriotic Movement (FPM). He is an architect by day and an activist by night and was also one of the youth involved in organizing the Cedar Revolution. He had been arrested 28 times, had had his arm broken by the Lebanese CIA who were working with the Syrians, and was targeted time and time again to be killed, but continued to fight for fifteen years, since he was nineteen years old.

He was yet another do-er, a passionate young activist who had affected change at a governmental level using peaceful measures. Zach was feeling incredibly sheepish since he had thought that the US military (re: his efforts) and the Bush Admistration were partially responsible for the positive outcome of the Cedar Revolution due to the way it was portrayed by the western media organizations. We couldn’t believe that the Bush administration had taken credit for this revolution, with countless magazines saying “Bush was right”. In fact, it was the people of Lebanon, mere individuals, who made it all happen.

Another reason why we hope this film will provide insight from all angles.

We then headed to the Palestinian Refugee Camp in Beirut called Sabra and Shatila where we went to a memorial and stood on the same area where a massacre of Palestinians took place (which Robert Fisk claims to also be one of the most horrible events he had ever witnessed.) There were large billboard sized photos of dead, limbless, children, and wailing parents to remind those who visited just how horrifying that moment in history was. 1982. We walked inside the camp which was a complete departure from the rest of Lebanon. I was back in the slums of India now. Trash everywhere, ramshackled housing, dirty children with no shoes, stray dogs and dirt roads were the backdrop. No perfect cobble stoned streets with wrought iron balconies here, and we were in the same zip code. Our driver met us deep inside the camp to take us to a more questionable area of the camp. Unlike in India, where even if they live in pauverty, it’s still their country, there was definitely a vibe of “this is not my home” that resonated as we inched our way through the narrow streets. Imagine living perpetually out of your suitcase in a septic-tank-free shack. I visited one of the “homes” and the living conditions  were absolutely atrocious. But the kids were smiling and seemingly happy which was very encouraging and gave me hope for the newer generation.

Anyway, as we turned into one of the narrower, more questionable streets, we get stopped by an angry man (clearly the ring leader) as his cronies circle our van. One of them tries to grab one of the cameras from Andrew’s lap since his window was open. He had a gun, and there were about fifteen of them. And he was asking a lot of questions. We were getting very nervous since we didn’t understand arabic, but our driver, who is a seasoned veteran and had been working with reporters during the entire Civil war including Robert Fisk, calmly talked him down, gave him his ID so he could note it down, and told him we’d be turning around and leaving. He looked at us suspiciously and let us go. That was pretty scary, I have to say.

The Refugee Camp was a harsh reminder of how veiled we are from the realities that exist for so many others. I wish they could also have a home, like the rest of us. I think being a mixed breed, I forget that people care about nationality and ethnicity.  Where is the “justice” Robert Fisk talks about?

We then met up with Jad again at the Memorial for his best friend Samir (a beautiful huge statue of him had been sculpted in his honor in a japanese style park with smooth dark wooden walkways and a modern looking fountain.) Jad then walked us around the area where the march took place and we imagined what it would have been like just four years back when the revolution took place. It was magical to be there and hear about it first hand from one of the founders of this incredible movement.

He then took us to one of the most prestigious Lebanese restaurants in Beirut and we had a seventeen plate “meze” (a Lebanese round of appetizers usually ordered to accompany a long night of drinking)…He told us that sixty plate mezes were normal in Lebanon. Raw liver and goat’s testicles were among the lineup. I tried a bite of the goat’s testicles and I probably should have listened to my instincts…

I have to say, going from the Refugee Camp to this opulent dinner made me feel pretty guilty. Lena mentioned that wealthy Lebanese and Arabs come to Beirut and spend $45000 a season to reserve a table at Skybar, Beirut‘s most prestigious rooftop lounge. Robert’s words about justice hung heavily over me.

So we moved our flight to Egypt to tomorrow night since we got approved by the Hezbollah to meet with them tomorrow at noon!

First though, at 7:30 in the morning, we’re headed to Southern Lebanon with Robert to follow him report a story in Tyre about the Hezbollah. Apparently southern Lebanon is very much controlled by them and they don’t like Western media and cameras but they like Robert so we should be fine…

We head out to Egypt tomorrow evening…

Wow, again, this has been a really really long email…

If my emails are too long and boring, let me know and I will condense them! There’s just simply too much to share!

Thanks again for reading.  Still missing New York Christmas season and all of you.

Love,

Radha