Beirut-Cyprus-Coming home

One monkey don't stop the show, so get on board. Here comes a freight train. So get on board.

Empty room save for two thin mattresses on the floor, a pillow, and a comforter. But, it has a door that closes and I am by myself. For the first time in a very long time over some wild few months, I start typing again.

Listening to Gillian Welsh and feeling the end of a chapter approaching. Honestly Beirut is such a Debaucherous city, I feel embarrassed to write about it sometimes. Maybe in the future in some alternate memoirs under an alias.

Been working my 'dream job' copy-editing for a Mid-East news wire this last month. It has been great, but I am still not convinced I am cut out for a desk job. The hours are long and the work is tedious, and it doesn't pay much. Still, it is work and way better than working at a pub. I did that too, but it only lasted about 2 weeks. The guy was cheap and only wanted to pay me $15 a day for 6-8 hours of work. A dead and lonely place except on Thursdays and Fridays when they have events, but I didn't work those nights.

Eventually I found this editing job and over-all it has kept me going.

I managed to make it to Cyprus to visit my friend there for about 5 days. That was a whole other adventure. Cypriots are a bit funny. They are a very open society, but very sexually frustrated. I spent most of my time hanging out with these wild tranies who run phone sex lines. They put ads in the paper for different options—girl, gay boy, couple, trani, etc.—and have a phone that is connected to each ad. We sat around the house drinking frappe and watching weird Greek TV shows waiting for the phones to ring. And they rang.

"Ne?" (Imagine trying to speak like a girl).

The people calling pay 2 Euros per minute. The goal is to keep them on the phone as long as possible. I wish I understood Greek, because even not understanding it I was laughing, but I can only imagine the things they were saying. Sometimes it was just phone sex, sometimes they agree to meet the guy, but they don’t go. After a while the guy calls back, again at 2 Euros per minute, and they go into some long explanation about why they are late and say they are on their way, but they still don't go. He calls back and again they make up an excuse as to why they can't actually make it. Meanwhile, the guy has been sitting on the side of the road some place. And all this works, because Cyprus is so damned small and families are pretty traditional so it is not really acceptable socially to just go out and hook up with some one (though I am sure that happens too).

Anyhow, it was wild.

Aside from the tranies, I did get to visit the beach Where Aphrodite was born out of the sea. The tradition is to make a wish on a pebble from the beach and toss it high on the rocks. Mine always fall down, but my wishes have come true so far. I visit the place every time I am in Cyprus.

We also went to some little village fair where vendors sell all sorts of junkie shit, toys, socks, doodads, nuts, preserves, ice cream, balloons. There is a church there with a deep cave behind it. The corridor is long, dark, and narrow and plunges into the earth to reveal a small natural well. The water is supposed to be healing and bring you love. So, I tried a bit of that too. I have never cared much who I wish to or pray to or ask for help. I say the more the merrier. Anyone who wants to help can be my guest: Santa Maria, Saint Christopher, Kali, Durga, Guru Nanak, the Jinn, I don't care. You got some random African tribal saint? I will take that too.

The last night I was there, I was at a pub with Karaoke. No, I did not sing. But I did make friends with these four British marines who were on a break from Afghanistan. One of them eventually told me he was just sick and tired of seeing his friends dying. He still has three more years to go, poor thing. I actually changed my ticket because I wanted to hang out with them more.

My friend Stelios, one of the gay boys, was begging for me to come back to Cyprus in the summer. I told him I would be back soon.

I did eventually make it back to Beirut. That was a little over a week ago.

Rob finally got to Beirut and I moved in with him and out of Rawya's. That lasted until Yesterday. Rob went to Oslo for an interview with NRC to take a position in Iraq. While I was here, he did a two-week bit in Kabul. I, myself, am coming back to the states now to stay with my dad for the summer at his place in Maine.

My ticket home is, funny enough, on Cyprus Airways to London with a 6 hour stop over in Larnaca. So I guess it really wasn't that long after all that the little island called me back.

I will be in London for five days before catching a flight on some Icelandic airline that I cant remember the name of with a stop over in Reykjavik before landing in Newark. One night in New York and then back to DC on the bus.

What a wild trip it's been.