Water and electricity cuts

Anyone who comes to Beirut soon learns to live with water and electricity cuts as a fact of life.

This article is quite informative about the power situation:

Lebanon has an outdated and aging infrastructure that hasn’t been updated since before the end of a brutal and vicious civil war that lasted from 1975 to 1990. The infrastructure situation worsened in July 2006 when Israel and Hezbollah, a Lebanese political party with an armed wing, fought a month-long war that cost the government over $110 million in damages.







Beirut experiences power cuts on a scheduled basis. From what I understand, it's three hours everyday from 6am to 6pm, running backwards on a rotating 4 day schedule. There's even an app to check out the schedued power cuts. Because I am one of the lucky ones who can afford a generator (it's actually the building's generator, but each unit has to pay to be hooked up), the practical effect on me is the power off and be restored again in a couple of minutes when the back-up generator kicks in. I loathe to think of the environmental impact caused by running fuel generators. So despite paying for a 10 amp generator that will allow me to do so, I try not to use the air con when I know the generator is on. In the office, the power goes off multiple times during the day and sets off this annoying alarm. As at home, it quickly comes on again (though it can be interesting when you're sitting in a pitch black windowless toilet). All our computers are connected to auxillary power units or we'd never get any work done.

Water supply is eratic and you never know when your taps will run dry. It is not an uncommon sight to see water trucks trawling the streets filling up empty tanks. It has been explained to me that Beirut is in the midst of a drought, brought on by the fact that it didn't rain enough last winter. While that may be the case, I can't help feeling that part of the water problem is caused by the same things as the electricity shortage - poor management/infrastructure and also the 25% (or more) increase in Lebanon's population since the Syrian war started.

Because I'm living alone, water isn't such an issue for me as my tank is sufficient for my needs. However, when I had a couple of friends stay over for a week, I ran out of water on the last day of their visit. That wasn't particularly pleasant, but thankfully I had the foresight to store water in 5l and 2l bottles, so there was water for things like flushing the toilet and brushing teeth. My nice landlord filled up my tank the very next day. It was a wonderful to have water again. I can only imagine how horrible it must be to be without water for an extended period. 

Addresses (or lack of)

One thing I quickly learnt when I got to Beirut is the fact that addresses don't exist. Even if a particular home of business has an offical address, pretty much no one knows it. The names of some major streets are known, but other than that street names aren't really known. Many buildings (like mine) don't have a name either. You navigate this country using landmarks and general directions.

My friends and family find it interesting and hard to imagine. I remember a friend asking me about three times, "how can there be no proper addresses?". She was quite perplexed. 

Before I arrived, I received instructions from my work telling me how to get to the office by taxi:- The X Office, behind A Supermarket and opposite the B Embassy.

My friend's address is:- Near the corner of St Georges Hospital, Blom Bank and Tomate Cerise.

I stayed at an Air BnB studio for a few weeks. The address, as described to me by the host, was something like this:- About 300m up the road from the Hotel Dieu Hospital, on the right there is a business called Saleh Lighting. The studio is on the road behind Saleh Lighting. No building/unit/street name. 

My current building has a name and a number, but nobody knows it. There is no name/number on the exterior. My unit isn't numbered either - there are two on my floor, so I tell people mine is the one on the left. There doesn't seem to be a street name either. 

Now all this is delighfully vague and makes things a little bit tricky for the newcomer, especially if you have no idea how to give directions to where you are. As a non-local, I often have no idea if what I think is a landmark is really a landmark. I wouldn't have a clue how to tell a taxi how to get to my apartment unless I'm in the car directing the driver (I can see Uber and its ability to pinpoint your location on the map becoming very handy). Thankfully, the Lebanese are generally quite willing to assist. I've had waiters call cabs for me, and cab drivers stop by the roadside all the time and yell out to local shopkeepers for directions. When I have food delivered (nearly everyone delivers here), I walk out to the main street and wait outside a pub until it arrives. Not as convenient as having it delivered to my doorstep, but a walk never did anyone any harm. I catch a taxi to work from the main street as well.

A day in Byblos - weekend trip (part 2)

To continue from where I last left off, after our Qadisha valley hike, we got the driver to drop us off in Byblos.

Byblos, known locally as Jbail (Byblos is a Greek name) is possibly the world's oldes continuously inhabited city. I read somewhere that about 17 different civilisations inhabited Byblos at some point in history. Along with its historic value, Byblos is also a lovely Mediterranean seaside town.

We had a nice breakfast sitting on a terrace looking out at this

We booked into Ahiram Hotel, a family-run establishment situated in a quite residential neighbourhood, a short walk to the Byblos Souks and archeological site. It was clean and comfortable and while not flashy, has a lovely beachfront view. The downside of being by the beach the loud music coming from a beachfront party/club going on into the early hours of the morning. That said, I was tired from our long day in Qadisha and slept like a baby. Nothing like an invigorating hike to ensure a good night's sleep.

Next morning, we had a leisurely breakfast followed by some lazing on the beach. I found a nice shady spot (the sun was so hot) and spend a lovely hour plus reading a book and people watching. It must have been the first time I felt truly relaxed since coming to Lebanon (things have been really hectic!). If only I didn't have to return to work the next day.

After some beach time, it was time for a little sightseeing. First, we passed the old city wall. Then, we visited St John the Baptist's church, where we ended up having a brief conversation about peace and God with a passing monk. It's a beautiful church with a pretty garden. After that, it was time for a stroll through the souks.

Old city wall

St John the Baptist Chuch

With the garden all decked out for a wedding

Byblos has a wax museum!

The souks are quite touristy with lots of souveniers, knick knack and pricey tourist restaurants. They are well maintained and pretty cool to walk though.

The souks

More shops opened later in the day

Tummy rumblings meant we had to abandon further wanderings and search for a place to it. This was a bit of a challenge with my vegan and vegetarian friends. In the end, we found a small local cafe that sold humus and a few other vegetarian staples. I had the longest chicken sharwarma sandwich I had ever seen, with chips inside!

Feeling rejuvenated, we decided to tackle the Byblos archealogical site. A 7000 LBP fee (just under US$5), gave us entry to this archealogical wonder. There are Neolithic ruins, an ancient necropolis, Phoenician temples, Roman ruins, a Crusader fort and a small museum. All set by the azure waters of the Mediterrenean. I'll let the photos do the talking.

Crusader fort

Roman ruins

Roman theatre

Phoenician Temple of the Obelisks

Partial view of the site from the Crusader fort

The majority of Byblos' population are Maronite Christians. With its open-air bars, cafes and restaurants, the beachside resorts, and the yatches sailing in the harbour, Byblos feels like it's in southern Europe. It's easy to forget you're in the Middle East, until you hear the sound of the azan (call to prayer) ring out over the souks.

This mosque dates back to the 1600s

Apartment

I moved into my own apartment last night after spending over five weeks in a hotel and a temporary accommodation studio.

My apartment isn't modern or beautiful, but it has (almost) everything I need. The apartment is a two-bedroom unit in the party neighbourhood of Mar Mikhael. It's set a little way back from the main street, down a residential back lane, so I don't have to deal with the noise of late night party animals and bars. I won't call it quiet though, as a busy highway runs behind my building so there's a fair amount of road noise (and dust - though I've found everywhere in Beirut dusty). Still, closing the windows blocks most of the noise out and it doesn't really bother me. I don't have a dining room, but I've set up a little plastic table (I think it's meant for the terrace/balcony) in my living room so I have a place to eat.

There are a few things I plan to buy - a clothes rack for my laundry, a pot and a frying pan (the existing ones are in such a sorry scratched state, they'll probably poison me with degrading teflon), a cutting board, maybe a spatula, another pillow (I have two good ones, an ok one and one so pathethicI'm not sure how anyone can call it a pillow), and a bathroom mat. Maybe some indoor slippers too so I don't have to clean the floor so often - dust really accummulates very quickly. If I can't feel dust under my feet, it's not there right? I miss our faithful robot vaccum cleaner in Malaysia. I'm unsure if such things exist here. Haven't seen any so far - maybe it's cheaper to get a maid/cleaner.

One of the things I have to get used to in Beirut is the general lack of privacy. The city is quite densely built, so people do live quite close to each other. My living room and kitchen windows look into a neighbour's kitchen. My bedroom windows face the living room windows of a neighbouring building.  The picture on the right isn't from my apartment, but it shows how the terrace is overlooked by neighbours' windows.
It doesn't bother the Beirutis, but this is the first time I've really lived in this manner. It could be that I'm just too picky and self-conscious. I'm sure I'll get used to it soon enough.No biggie.




Anyway, the point of this post was to put up some photos of truly ugly apartments I saw in Beirut. There were some really nice ones that I viewed, but all were unsuitable for me - inconvenient location, single bedroom, too expensive, tricky contracts... I was left with a few choices of ok-ish apartments that were within budget. I settled for mine because it was all inclusive - electricity, water, building fees, internet - so it means no bills. Beirut rents are terribly expensive, but thankfully my employer pays (otherwise there is no way I would have come).

So here are some of the worse places I saw. Note that the rents charged for these places ranged from US$1800-2000, so they are by no means cheap. One would have thought that at these prices, landlords would deign to put in some decent furniture and halfway decent kitchens. These look like they haven't been touched since the 1970s (come to think of it, my kitchen looks pretty old/drab too). One kitchen I saw had ancient open shelves reminiscent of my student flat days instead of kitchen cabinets (unfortunately I don't have a photo of that).

Maybe if they wait long enough, this will come back in fashion one day.

Umm, at least this has white units? Note that they were made out of cheap plastic.

This is my personal favourite

Broken shutters - check

1970s interior design?

Uh - yep.

Of course I saw some really nice places too. But what's the fun with putting up photos of nicely done up apartments that I'd really like to live in?