A cab, a bus, and another cab

Last night after the LSMS conference there was a big dinner. Since it was in Beirut and was going late I opted to stay with a cousin in Beirut rather than try to come back after midnight. So this morning I got up and had to make an interesting route back to the village. I had to catch a taxi from my cousin's room to an area called Cola. The cabbie didn't speak english so I had to attempt only arabic. I'm getting reasonably skilled at faking understanding arabic. I say very limited phrases and point and say yes and no a lot and then thanks when I understand where to go. So I ask for Cola (so named for an old soda bottling factory before the war) and then the 16 bus. It turns out the 16 bus is not actually a bus, but a run down van. So I jumped in with a couple soldiers and some workers and a disgruntled "bus" driver. I was able to read the signs in arabic and determine the route we were going and how much I was supposed to pay. Since I recognize the area around the village I got out a few miles away. I was instructed to call back to the village, but I found a taxi and miraculously managed to negotiate with him for a couple bucks to take me back to the village.

When I got here, my cousins all told me how worried they'd been since I left beirut. I chided them mildly saying I have traveled around Sri Lanka and India on my own and I didn't know where I was going. I made it back, it was a fun adventure I must say, and now I know a little bit about Lebanon's "public transit." I think getting from an apartment in Beirut to my little village in the mountains for something like $10. In Indian money that's a lot, but considering the distance and the idea that I had to take 2 taxis I can't say I minded. The "bus" driver drove like a madman as should be expected from any bus driver anywhere, so I got back in a timely fashion.