Koolaids

by Rabih Alameddine

  Jana called the following day, insisting they were flying out the next day. The man wanted to visit my studio. I told her Maria would show them around. I was leaving. She did her usual you-may-not-realize-that-this-is-a-business-but-I-have-to-pay-the-rent-and-pay-the-employees-and-what-have-I-done-to-deserve-this routine. I agreed to stay because I lacked the stamina to listen to the routine in its entirety.

  They arrived at my studio straight from the airport. He was very businesslike. He was probably already boinking Jana. She was chipper. He bought all three paintings that were out. He asked to see my collection. I told him it was not for sale. He told me which paintings he had already bought. Jana had been busy. He now had one of the best collections of my work. I told him he was not to have any more. I did not want my paintings to end up in Beirut. It was unsafe.

  He then did what few people have been able to do. He shocked me. He asked me where I wanted to be buried. The question dumbfounded me. I choked. He said they would be honored if I were buried in Beirut.

  I allowed him to buy three paintings from my collection. But only three.

  …

  The weariest and most loathed worldly life,

  That age, ache, penury, and imprisonment

  Can lay on nature is a paradise,

  To what we fear of death.

  The bard said that. Borges said that in Tlön all men who repeat one line of Shakespeare are William Shakespeare.

  …

  I am in a gas station filling my white car. The station is spotlessly clean, unsullied. White neon lights illuminate the night. Everything is white and silver. I have been filling my tank for a long time and the pump is still going. I look under my car and realize the gas is going directly to an underground tank in the station. There is no way I would be able to fill up my car.

  …

  I am beyond embarrassment at this point. I have seen it all. I have been through it all.

  Nawal wipes my butt. I must have had an accident. She talks to me constantly. I hear her. I can’t seem to think straight. She talks to me of home. I am home. My mind wanders.

  Our roles reverse.

  …

  In July of 1980, Bashir Gemayel, leader of the Phalange Militia, united all the Christian militias by force. They were some of the bloodiest battles of the war. He assassinated many of his rivals. Stalin would have been proud. He named his new coalition the Lebanese Forces. Two years later, with the help of the invading Israeli army, he was elected president of Lebanon.

  The election of a known murderer to the presidency is not uncommon. Suleiman Franjieh, the man who was president when the war started, was known to have killed twelve people of a rival Christian clan while they were praying in church. Coitus interruptus.

  Bashir Gemayel was elected on August 23, 1982. He lasted until September 14, when he was assassinated by the Syrians. The Israelis moved into West Beirut, which they had promised they would not do, to protect the population. Hundreds of Palestinian civilians were massacred in Sabra and Chatilla by members of the Lebanese Forces, who were able to enter West Beirut with the Israelis. All of which led Menachem Begin to say, “Goyim kill goyim, and they always blame us,” or something to that effect.

  The leader of the militiamen who committed the atrocities was an Israeli-trained killer by the name of Elie Hobeika. Later on during the war, when the Lebanese Forces went through another internal cleanup, Hobeika fled and took asylum in Syria, once his sworn enemy. When Syria won the war, which they were allowed to by the Americans because of their help in the new world order against Saddam Hussein, Hobeika became a minister in the government of Lebanon.

  He still is today. I believe he is the minister of tourism, as well as a presidential candidate.

  Lest you think that Bashir Gemayel’s stay in the presidency was the shortest one, I have to tell you the story of René Mouawad. Poor René. He was elected president; this time, instead of with Israeli help, it was with Syrian help, in November of 1989. He did not make the end of the month. He was assassinated on November 22.

  Embassies had to constantly change pictures.

  …

  FROM THE DESK OF JOUMANA BASHAR

  Mark Lietbarsky

  920 29th Street NW

  Washington, DC 20007

  Dear Mark,

  Thank you so much for your kind letter. I am sorry I was unable to get back to you earlier. As you can imagine, events have been somewhat overwhelming. The funeral took a lot out of us. It was gratifying to note how much my mother was loved. It is only now, forty days later, that I have some time for myself. There has been a continuous flow of people coming to pay their respects.

  The funeral was very tough on us. I wish you could have been able to be here. She loved you so much. I am so sorry you are not doing so well. Your health was always on my mother’s mind.

  Listen, Mark. As soon as I have affairs taken care of on this end, I intend to come see you for a long visit. That should be in three weeks or so. I understand you have everything under control and your family is taking care of you. I will come over to help in any way I can. My mother would have wanted that and I want to. Please, there is no point in trying to dissuade me. My mind is already made up.

  As for my mother’s diaries, I am afraid it is highly unlikely they will ever he published. I have read them, so has my father. You are right. They are incredibly moving. I went through the entire gamut of emotions reading them. Everything you said in your letter was true. We would be doing “the world” a favor by publishing them. However, what may be difficult for you to grasp is the kind of society we live in. Most of us prefer not to see. It is as simple as that. Publishing the diaries would create a world of problems. We can start with the family, the immediate and the extended. My sisters think their life would become a living hell if anyone even suspected the diaries exist. They consider laying bare our mother’s life to be nothing short of criminal. What they are saying in reality is they would feel shamed. Even if my mother’s diaries did not include the personal materials they do, revealing them would be a scandal. We simply do not understand Western culture’s fascination with biographies, or worse, the current obsession with telling it all to Oprah and her ilk. A person’s life is kept very private in our culture. Although we tend to be emotional people, we do not reveal personal feelings or share them. Any kind of personal revelation is treated with disdain. Lebanese society would ostracize the perpetrator and their family.

  It is not simply that my mother wrote openly about Samir’s sexuality and AIDS that we feel the way we do about this, although it is a major concern. Even though I am sure everyone in Lebanon knows Samir died of AIDS, no one openly talks about it. The family prefers the subject never be discussed. Even if AIDS was never mentioned in her diaries, the mere fact she wrote down her honest feelings about her life and the people who are a part of it, would force our society to look at issues it considers best left unmentioned. The ostrich prefers to keep her head buried. Light is too painful. Please, do not judge us too harshly. It is just the way we are.

  There are also other issues which make the diaries problematic. My mother wrote about politics and politicians. For the first time in Lebanon, we are living under a regime where it is no longer acceptable to openly and honestly criticize our government’s policies. Men and women have disappeared for mentioning much less than what my mother wrote about Assad. All the war criminals are now “respected” politicians. It is getting better where we are now able to criticize our government somewhat, but my mother actually wrote the truth about the leader of our “beloved” neighbor. The whole family could end up in the Mazzeh, the infamous Syrian prison.

  It would take an incredible amount of courage to publish these diaries, something neither I, nor anyone in my family, possesses. I am a coward. I hope you understand. I know this will disappoint you because it means so much to you. I do apologize.


  I will call you soon to tell you about my plans. Hopefully, by the time I get there, you will be feeling better. In the meantime, take good care of yourself and God bless you.

  Sincerely,

  Your good friend,

  Joumana

  …

  SUBJECT: REASONS TO GET THE SYRIANS OUT OF LEBANON

  FROM: JHNOUB@AOL.COM

  DATA: TUE, 26 MAR 1996 02:15:56 -0500

  The government is Syrian, not Lebanese. Every minister was appointed by Syria and anyone who does not toe the line is forced to resign.

  The president is a Syrian puppet. He was forced on us by Syria. He does nothing without Syria’s okay. He is nothing but a Syrian dog.

  We have no free elections. What is the point of voting if they keep rigging up the election to make sure their politicians win?

  We have pictures of Assad all over Lebanon. It is as if he were our president. When his son died, Beirut was forced to close down for three days of mourning.

  Our economy exists only to serve Syria. The national bank cannot make a move without Syria’s approval.

  Our army does only what Syria wants. They beat up on their own people, but leave Hizballah alone because Syria wants them to.

  We are the nuclear dump of the world. Syrians take money and allow Italian ships to dump their nuclear wastes on Lebanese soil.

  We have no human rights. People are being kidnapped and tortured constantly. Amnesty International has a huge list of human rights abuses in Lebanon.

  No project can be built in Beirut without bribing Syrian officials. The current rate is twenty percent off the top. No boulevard, no bridge, no power plant, nothing can be built without the Syrians getting paid.

  The hashish and opium trade is now completely in Syrian hands. They are making their money forcing our farmers in the Beka’a valley to plant nothing but drugs.

  There are over one million Syrian workers in Lebanon. They are destroying our economy and taking food off our tables.

  Criminals roam the streets. Jail is used only for government opponents.

  Our children are being forced to study according to Syrian standards. They are being brainwashed into accepting Syrian rule.

  The Lebanese are second-class citizens in our own country.

  Shops in Beirut have to pay Syrians to remain open.

  Our lands are being sold to Arabs and rich Syrians. No Lebanese family can afford an apartment in Beirut anymore.

  Beirut is the headquarters of international terrorism again.

  Our foreign policy is Syrian foreign policy. We cannot deal with any other country directly. We have to wait and see what Syria will allow us to do.

  The guns have not been silenced. They have simply begun using silencers when killing.

  Our people are dying.

  In simple terms, we have been sacrificed to the peace process and the new world order.

  …

  FROM: SAID MALEH

  SUBJECT: TO THOSE LEBANESE WHO CANNOT DEAL WITH THE TRUTH

  I have been sitting here listening to all you people talk about the Israeli occupation of South Lebanon. You people have no idea what you are talking about. You live in nice houses in France, Canada, and America and think you know what is going on. Did any one of you think of asking those of us who live in the South what we think? No, you did not think of asking. Well, guess what? I am going to tell you anyway.

  First of all, I only want to talk to the Lebanese living abroad. I do not care to talk to those who live under Syrian occupation. The latter group has been brainwashed for so long it is completely hopeless to try and reason with them. Only after the last trace of the Syrian evil has been erased from our country can we hope to have a reasonable debate. Until then, we will just bide our time until all of Lebanon is liberated. The time for debating with the Syrians and their proxies is over.

  History will be the final arbiter of truth. I have watched the discussions of liberating the South, not knowing how you people could think of Israel as the occupier. Israel is the liberator of South Lebanon. The Israelis are here to protect us against the terror that is Hizhallah. If you consider Israel as the occupier, then you have to say that America was the occupier of Great Britain during World War II. Have you thought about that? Hizhallah train their men to kill women and children of the South. They are killing the people of the South, destroying our homes and businesses, raping our lands. Yet you people think of Hizhallah as the defenders of the South. Israel is not an occupier of South Lebanon. Why don’t you people, who think you know everything, come down to the South and see for yourselves? Come down and ask the people who they are afraid of, the Israelis or Hizhallah. Stop living in your ivory towers and reading all the false propaganda being distributed by the Syrian regime and their sycophants. Come see how our Lebanese families struggle under the Hizhallah oppression. After you see all that, then maybe you can decide which is the free Lebanon.

  I have heard you people talk of Lebanon under the Hariri government as the free Lebanon and the South as the occupied Lebanon. History will prove that you are wrong. When Chiang Kai-shek ruled over Taiwan, everybody thought he was an evil dictator, whereas now he is considered a hero. They considered mainland China the good China and Taiwan the bad China. You cannot make a fool of history. Everybody now knows that Taiwan is the good China. The same thing will happen with Saad Haddad. Like Chiang Kai-shek, he is the true liberator of Lebanon. Just because world opinion has a distorted view of the situation does not make it true. Just like Taiwan, South Lebanon will soon he recognized as the good Lebanon and Lebanon under the Hariri government as the bad Lebanon. In the end, the truth always comes out.

  The truth will finally show us that the Israelis are liberating us from the heavy Syrian boots and protecting us from the Hizhallah Nazis. Just you wait and see. All of you will regret everything you are saying right now. When the truth finally comes out, you will all pretend that you knew all along which was the free Lebanon, just like everybody pretends now that they knew all along that Taiwan was really the free China. You will all hail Saad Haddad as the true hero that he is.

  The South will be vindicated. The lies you are spreading, knowingly or unknowingly, will be shown for what they are. In time, you will all come to see who was right. The South will lead the way to a completely free Lebanon.

  Long live South Lebanon and long live our Israeli friends. Sincerely,

  Said Maleh

  Jezzine, Free South Lebanon

  …

  FROM: IDABOU@AOL.COM

  DATA: TUE, 19 MAR 1996 20:21:47 -0500

  SUBJECT: RESPONSE TO PIERRE MBAYED

  Where do you come off, Mr. Mbayed? How could you decipher what I said that way? I said, “Many of my friends are Christians and I love them very much.” How could you even think that what I meant was that most Christians are horrible people, but some of my Christian friends are not too bad . . . Huh? I cannot fathom how you would even say such a thing. Can’t you read? No, Pierre, I do not hate Christians and I am not an isolationist. Fuck you.

  …

  I am getting a major headache.

  …

  The first time my mother met Mark she did not like him. I did not expect her to. It was difficult enough for her dealing with my sexuality and health. She was in no mood to like my lover. I am sure she also deduced he was the one who unknowingly infected me with the virus.

  Every time I called Beirut to talk to her, I would make sure to mention something nice about Mark. It wasn’t difficult because he treated me so well. We had been together for nine years. She always changed the subject. It became a contest of wills between us. For a long time, she won.

  It was not until her visit two months ago that she saw in him what I saw. She was shocked as to how weak I had gotten. She saw for the first time how much he loved me. I saw her writing furiously in her diar
y. When she finished, it was obvious she had made a decision.

  She adopted Mark.

  …

  Sometimes, I thought about writing a play. It would be easier than writing a whole book. I would be able to put down the whole complex idea of Lebanese life as a conversation between two upperclass Lebanese women. It might go something like this:

  The play takes place in a restaurant café in Paris, Les Deux Magots in St. Germain. The set must have an awning with the name of the restaurant. It is the place to be seen in for the Lebanese. The play has two major characters, and a minor one, the waiter who serves them. He has an attitude, of course. Sylvie is a Christian Lebanese woman residing in Paris. Amal is a Muslim Lebanese who visits Paris often. Both are dressed in designer suits, impeccably accessorized. They have the same blond dye job, the same coif, and both are thin. They look like clones with matching oufits.

  Sylvie enters the stage. She sees Amal sitting at the table. Amal stands up to greet her. At the table, they kiss three times. The kisses are air kisses. Touching cheek to cheek and kissing air. Beginning on the left cheek, right cheek, and back to the left. They sit. The waiter hovers.

  AMAL:(to the waiter) Deux cafés.

  The waiter leaves.

  SYLVIE:Sorry I’m late but I could not find a taxi. Have you been waiting long?

  AMAL:Oh no. I just got here myself.

  SYLVIE:Did you have a good flight?

  AMAL:It was hell. The service on MEA is awful. I’m taking Air France from now on.

  SYLVIE:Good for you. I always do. It’s the only way.

  AMAL:So when are you coming down?

  SYLVIE:The thirteenth. I haven’t been down in four months.

  AMAL:I know. So how is everybody?

  SYLVIE:Everybody is doing well. Jean works so hard I hardly see him. Did I tell you about Patrick?

  AMAL:No. How is he?

  SYLVIE:He graduated the top of his class at the London Polytechnic. He has been accepted into a business program run by Harvard in conjunction with the Sorbonne.