We aren't politicians...
In the large Beirut suburb of Haret Hreik, a place where the population exploded during the war, we are scheduled to meet the deputy mayor. Samer presents our project.
"We are not here to do politics. We aren't politicians...We're humanists. We are here to report and draw our conclusions on an important matter. How many displaced people from the mountain live here? ''
With all our good will, we were however stopped by Hizbollah party members for taking pictures of the neighborhood, only a few streets away from the city hall.
An Eco-Friendly Factory
Early morning in the Lost Valley. We reach a small factory which used to make ammunition for hunting rifles. During the war, the ammunition turned lethal. Legend says the place was used as a warehouse by looters. If the pillagers didn't agree on the division of spoils, they could settle it by killing each other in the privacy of this isolated building.
Today, the factory is almost empty, but there are signs of activity. The windows are being replaced, gates have been installed. Inside, a group of Syrian workers wonder who these people are, walking towards them with their Sunday picnic look, their cameras and their tripod. We start talking. The men almost apologize for being Syrian. We ask what is to become of the place (one could easily imagine it as a gallery for contemporary art or a rave space); turns out it will be a factory to recycle plastic.
A hitch-hiking hermit
A man waits with his bags by the side of the road wearing an oversized pair of shoes and several sweaters despite the heat. He looks like a refugee, which in a way he is: a Greek-Orthodox monk who normally spends his time in silent contemplation of the Holy Spirit from a bare monastery cell on the crest of the Metn mountain range, but who, on this occasion, had succumbed to earthly temptation and is on his way back from Beirut where he had gone for a hot shower. We give him a ride, climbing up towards the monastery, stopping from time to time to take pictures. Despite the fact that only one of us is Orthodox (or perhaps because) we receive a 15-minute lecture on the history of the eastern churches culminating with the Greek Orthodox Church.
During the war, the monk's monastery was ransacked by militias. They ruined the mural paintings and the icons. They plucked out the eyes of the statues of saints and scribbled over their faces in an orgy of deletion.
Since then, the old monastery -- it dates back to the fourth century -- has come back to life, although only six monks live there full time. The chapel's 17 th century frescos have been restored, and Orthodox propriety is still very much in effect. The monks ask Christian who is wearing shorts to roll a blue scarf around his bare legs...
As we exit, a group of women who came to listen to the words of an elder pope, walk into the foyer. Sweets and coffee are offered several times. We step aside for a while and talk with the hitch-hiking monk about life and the holy-spirit and how relations between men and women would be better if we could live without sex. Samer asks after another monk he once knew who lived at this very monastery. As it turns out, this monk recently removed himself from the life of the monastery, indeed from the world altogether, and lives in total isolation in a cave up in the hills. |
