Sojourn to the South

We were eating fried baby baracudas and drinking Ksara white wine when I said to V, "Is that a helicopter?"
"No," she replied, "We're on the sea, it's a fishing boat."

The sun had set, and there was no boat to be seen. Before long, the sound of the engine was coming from the sky, and we realized that there was a helicopter flying overhead. We thought it was the IDF sending a helicopter up the coast for a spy mission or something (their planes occasionally fly across the border to terrorize people). Naturally, we panicked.

The gentlemen sitting across from us put their arak down and laughed, "Not Israel!! Not Israel!! Unifil!!"

The following morning, we were in the car with Mohamed (32 and ADD), his wife Layal (sharp, charming, and into Hizbullah), and their son Qassam. Mohamed invited us into his home where, after serving us pineapple and mango juice, he showed us pictures of his brother who's in prison in the states. "His friend's car--full of drugs--was parked outside his house. He got 20 years. His friend got three. Not fair because really drugs are everywhere," he told us.

Together, we drove to Qana, Bint Jbeil, Bawabat Fatima, Nabatiyeh, and up to Saida. As Israel blasted many of the roads in the south last year, traveling through the terrain is like off-roading through a quarry. The scope of the destruction was jarring. I could hardly take three breaths without passing a building that had been completely demolished.

We stopped for some water in Qana, and Mohamed asked the fat lady with bad teeth if she knew any 30-40 year old women who might be interested in marrying his recently divorced father.

After Qana, we wanted to head to Bint Jbeil. In order to get to Bint Jbeil, foreigners need to obtain passes from the Lebanese military in Saida (which we didn't have), but Mohamed told us that he could get us there no problem. Before we knew it, we were traveling down the back of a mountain on a sketchy road, and to our right were about two dozen tents with yellow Hizbullah flags lining the path. Mohamed wanted to take us to 3ait el Shaab; we told him next time.

The destruction of Bint Jbeil is crippling. The war destroyed an entire quarter of the city, and the ruins have yet to be cleared. Staircases dislodged from homes, ceilings punctured with rocket holes, and living rooms turned to rubble.