The 1/3 Mark: Highlights and Frustrations

So here I am one month from the States. I picture myself pondering quietly on the Ventura Pier, and (most of all), running into people I haven't seen in six months on the first day back to LMU (senior year), and this elation pitter-patters in my heart, and then I just want to yelp to the universe YES and NO all at the same time. I am ready. I am reluctant. I don't know!

Here's what's happened amid all this.

Sam the building owner invited all of the SINARC students in his building to his house in the mountains (45 minute drive from Hamra, our neighborhood in Beirut). There were six stories (though only two were developed significantly) with a pool and a garden and a view of the bay of Beirut far below. His whole family--three sisters, their sons, and his 90-year-old father--were waiting to greet us with hugs, smiles, and an entire decked-out living room full of chocolate and Lebanese food. We chowed down all night on fatouche, dolmas, miniature pizzas stuffed with meat, mana'ushe, kefta, and pepsi in glass bottles brought to us by Karim, his 12-year-old American-loving nephew. I felt extremely welcomed and never wanted return to the congestion and stress of Beirut.
I'm sure the city has great night life, and some of my roommates have been giving me a hard time for being a "homebody," but I'm sorry, I spent all my energy and (of course) money on nightlife in Spain, and I'm ready for a little rest. So I haven't yet seen Beirut, the Paris of the Middle East, in its full glory. Though I do hope for a night of dancing and talking to young Lebanese sometime soon.
Also, my energy here goes to studying primarily, and nothing more. An intensive language program should not be any other way. Heck, I've been studying four hours a day outside four hours of class, and I still got a C on my first test. To be honest, I'm just not a natural language learner. Funny how I go for it anyway :).

Another highlight: walking back from the university one afternoon I felt a tug on my blouse from behind, and spun to find a tiny Lebanese girl with short curly brown hair and sparkly eyes offering me a white flower!! Her mother smiled at me from across the street. I accepted, thanked her, and she toddled away.

Frustrations:
Girls in big groups frustrate me. It's like ALL energy revolves around getting male attention, and people cease to listen to me. This is why I prefer: one-on-one conversations, mature people, dancing or sitting on a patio philosophizing to climbing all over each other at a bar. Is it so terrible to want to settle down with a book instead of sitting at an expensive bar?
The electricity here goes out every five minutes and we have to recharge it ourselves.
I got uber-sick with "bubble gut" two days ago and was up all night puking and...doing the other thing. Better now. Hope that means my system is adjusted.

Funny story:
I took a nap one Friday night, to no avail, because just after I fell asleep I felt the building begin to shake. Then I heard gunshots and shouting outside our balcony, and I began to shiver. I thought civil war had fallen on my area in Beirut once again. Somewhat terrified, I threw on a shirt, took a deep breath, and raced down the stairs to the nearest open door I could find. It belonged to Columb from Britain and John from Virginia, who was half-naked. I didn't care at that point; I was so scared. "I just had to see someone's face, sorry." They didn't help much. John kept staring out the window at the commotion, and Columb ventured, "Maybe we should get a backpack ready, just to be safe."
Yeah. The bombs were definitely fireworks. It was in celebration of the election of Hariri. I felt pretty silly.

Until next time, ma salemi!