Palm Island

Tonight I went to my first 'house party' Dubai style. More or less it was the same as any party at any house in a college town. The main difference, though, was the setting. It was hosted at a villa on a man-made island in the Persian Gulf.

There was a DJ, a bar and a beach. The most striking aspect was the "fight" I witnessed as soon as I exited the taxi. Here in Dubai the police are so ever-present and scary that fights play out like peacocks vying for a mate. No, touching just lots of loud arguments followed by six people "holding back" each individual. Obviously most of these individuals would last very shortly at an American college.

Yet, tonight I met more people from more countries then I could have ever imagined. A South African, Northern Californian, German, a Swiss guy, a Saudi, a Brit and a Hungarian-Iraqi. Most importantly, I realized that no matter what ethnicity or nationality every person I met was so much the same in this setting that it made me realize the common humanity that we all share. Plus, I got in for free.

Days 3 and 4: Adventure Some More

Most of day 3 was spent aimlessly walking around Beirut looking for a cheap hotel suite in which all six of us could stay. One place was too sketchy and the next too expensive and so on. At another the proprietor told of us a cheap suite that could fit six of us. He showed us the room which had two singles, puke green carpet and the smell of cat piss. We said 'no thanks.' Eventually Jean Paul, on a whim, found a great room in a hotel with a modern facade, El-Sheikh. We even had a pool in our room but only after one of us took a shower.

Anxious to get the day started we took a taxi to the Roche, a couple of majestic rock formations that rose from the ocean in downtown Beirut. As the requisite 'identical-facebook-albums' photo shoot took place a small teenager approached us. He offered to set us up for a boat ride around the rocks and after some price negotiations we found ourselves on a small dingy speeding around and through the Roche. The water was choppy and filthy but the rocks were stunning, albeit unclimbable and trust me I checked.

The Roche Beautiful but Unclimbable

We milled about a fancy hotel and then met up with Jean-Philippe who said he would take us to Beyt al-Din, literally translated to house of religion, a 14^th century Ottoman villa. As we were on a tight schedule because our German friend Andy was flying in, his statement that it would take 30 minutes was just barely perfect. 30 minutes later we weren't halfway there and pissed, so Jean-Philippe changed our destination to Sa'ida a series of ancient ruins sitting alone off the coastline. Yet, they were closed. He tried to make it up to us by going to a famous pastry shop.

I have never been so stressed out in a pastry shop ever in my life. The scene was one of chaos, customers swarming the counters which were full of Arab pastries, french chocolates and gelato. In the middle of the swarm Jean Philippe is attempting to explain to us about each pastry's name, contents, history, maiden name while we were swooning from not eating for eight hours. We just wanted some pastries so we wouldn't die. Jean-Paul and I eventually ordered and each ate 20 different kinds of pastries as a guy behind the counter yelled Arab numbers repeatedly over and over again at 15 second intervals.

That night our group finally became whole when Andy joined us, on a rooftop restaurant overlooking the Mediterranean, for dinner. I had a relaxing a night and the next morning Jean-Paul and I went to rent a car. We wanted a little more freedom and not be rushed around by Jean-Philippe. We had to wait for two hours to get the car but it was worth it because we explored the beautiful Mohammad al-Amin Mosque. After a short nap in the mosque we got our little Nissan Sunny and headed to Jeita Cave.

Or tried to. I asked many random people for direction in broken Arabic but most of the time I was unable to understand what their answer. I would ask and the short conversations would go something like this:

Fdsgafdsag...straight for...asdnbvc...right after the...afdsfd...

Shukran? (thanks).

Then we were on our way, to ask for more directions! Eventually we made in to Jeita Cave. Here we took a short cable car up to the top entrance of the cave where our cameras were immediately confiscated. No pictures allowed because they wanted you to buy them in the gift shop. The cave itself was heavily trafficked with a concrete path throughout. Yet, the chambers were quite large and the formations were some of the most unique I have seen in a cave. Some looked like jellyfish, other like curtains and one that was black from so many people touching it, appeared phallic in nature.

A Picture I Was Supposed to Buy

On the way to the bottom level of the cave we took a "train" that was actually just a tractor and passed the a most soul-crushing zoo. Where even the turtle were frustrated enough to headbutt each other. On the bottom level we took a 5 minute boat ride and saw a few more formations but mostly Jean-Paul splashing water.

Tractor-Train

Driving on the way out were continually impressed with kindness of every stranger we met. With time to kill we got directions to somewhere nearby and explored some more. We found ourselves in a small mountain town, with amazing cliffs and free standing rock formations, where we took in the view. The potential for climbing here is immense. On the way back to pick up Awos, who had been asleep all day and to go eat, we got lost for just minute.

So Many Rocks!

Right or left? Just down the road to the left we passSo Many Rocks!ed a military checkpoint, high upon a the ridge line replete with tanks, artillery and soldiers. We turned around, took the right and headed back to fabulous Beirut...