Shopping at Faddoul’s Market for dinner a couple of nights ago reminded me of how pleasant it is to have the assistance of a specialist at various points throughout the day.   In the States, most specialists assist me with things like my network connectivity, or my cell phone plan.  That is all nice and well - but imagine having someone to assist us with things like shopping.  Yes, yes, the rich and wealthy may have personal shoppers, and maybe some of us have refrigerators that order us additional food supplies when we are running low, but how many of us (outside of the deli or baked goods section) have ever received personal assistance when selecting food items from the neighborhood grocer?

That’s right - at Faddoul’s market in Jounieh four nights ago, there was a produce specialist.  And by specialist, I mean Specialist, with a capital S.  This guy was fluent in three languages (Arabic, French, and English).  Not only did he carefully select the ripest, most tender vegetables from the varieties I indicated, but he also suggested complimentary selections (”Perhaps leeks might go well with vine ripened tomatos”).  He then bagged and weighed my veggies.  Talk about service.  Most sommeliers don’t even treat me that well - and at only 750 LL to boot (less than 50 cents US), I walked away a happy happy customer.

Now, if only the Lebanese could apply this level of quality to the customer service in their telecommunications industry.  Produce Specialist anyone?

My beard is gone. Kaput. Shaved off. Down the drain. Funny looks at the super marche in Christian dominated Jounieh, coupled with the fact that my beard/no-mustache combo made me look conspicuously like a member of Fatah Al Islam, hastened my decision to bic it all off. On Friday, I made a visit to Halou’s coiffure in the old souq and had the head beard tamed a bit. Now I look nice and respectable.

Lebanon is gorgeous. Visited Harissa and the Citadel in Byblos. It is strange to see Arabic writing on Christian monuments, but after all, the Maronite’s are more Christian than any Evangelical in the States.

Power is a bit finnicky - the apartment looses electricity about eight times a day. That means no AC until sometime after dark. Could be worse though - the temperatures aren’t nearly as bad as they were in Israel.

Off to the beach for an Almaza. Keskun for now.

Ok, any attempts at blogging regularly went straight out the window when I landed in Tel Aviv.

I leave for Beirut tomorrow,  via the West Bank’s Allenby/King Hussein Bridge into Amman from East Jerusalem.  I’ve got to run up to Ramat Gan to grab my Jordanian visa and then hope for the best when I land in Beirut.  So far I have been lucky enough to be remain stampless crossing into and out of Israel - but we will see how long that lasts.

A short list of some of the places I have been in the last two weeks:  Tel Aviv, Jerusalem, the Old City in Jerusalem, the Kotel (Western Wall) on the 9th of Av (for those of you who know, the anniversary of the destruction of the 1st and 2nd temple), Ein Gedi, the Dead Sea, Massada, the Sea of Gallilee, the Golan Heights, Petra in Jordan, Dimona (home to Israel’s not so secret nuclear power plant), and so much more.  I am going to go back and reconstruct my journey next week in Lebanon - so don’t get grump with me yet.

From the Holy Land,

Brady