Calling audibles in Lebanon
Some days don't go quite as expected--what a horrible cliche, and I'm disappointed I couldn't come up with anything better, but I digress. My trips to Saida and Tripoli started out with some semblance of structure, and I ended up accomplishing a couple of main objectives, but things didn't quite follow the plan.
In Saida I was supposed to meet with a local NGO, learn about their activities, tour some of their sites and work, then meet the mayor, then do more of a demographic tour of Saida. The city is predominantly Sunni, and largely pro-Hariri (that's ruling party, or pro-western in the media shorthand). But, there are significant communities of Christians and Shia as well. In fact, many Shia fled to Saida in the 2006 war because the city was Sunni, and therefore not a Hezbollah stronghold--hence not a target in the war.
Today, the city is still Sunni, but more mixed in terms of political affiliation, and an interesting microcosm of some of the demographics of the country.
Anyhow, I arrived at the NGO and was ushered inside. I met a few members, including the honorary president. I need to mention that the night before I received a surprise phone call from the Lebanese Army, saying that I had received permission to visit the main Palestinian refugee camp in Saida and also explore some of the army controlled locations in the area. So, I had them fax the permission to the NGO office. When it arrived, the honorary president began making phone calls. In the meantime, they treated me to a breakfast sandwich Lebanese style--lebneh.
The president informed me that he had spoken with the head of the camps and that they had authorized me to visit Ein El Hilweh--the largest refugee camp in the country. They told me we would have to visit his office to talk before going to the camp. Fine with me.
I wasn't sure how any of this was going to affect the agenda, but I was their guest and along for the ride. They told me we would drive somewhere, visit someone, then come back to the office--in a relatively short period of time I was led to believe. I told my driver to sit tight.
The NGO people took me across town, and we entered an office building that turned out to be the city hall. They brought me into an office and introduced me to a few people sitting around a table. I had no idea who they were, and they didn't seem to speak English, so I sat there confused and chatted with the young guy from the NGO who spoke English, but wasn't much clearer on the agenda than I was.
After about 20 minutes, a man enters the room and I am introduced. Turns out he's the mayor. We prepare to talk, and he receives two visitors and several phone calls before we are able to talk. He's a member of the opposition party despite being in a ruling party city, or at least in theory, and we are just starting to get into an interesting conversation when a delegation of 5 well dressed men enter the office, and my time is up.
So, we leave, and drive to another street, get out of the car and stop in front of a small apartment building/house with a closed metal grate covering the street-level facade, and a few men standing around outside. I notice a picture of Arafat on the front of the building and realize this must be the office of the Palestinian leader--clever, huh?
