Romantic Notions of the Homeland

Yesterday was groundhog day in America. It's a holiday I generally ignore. Punxsutawney Phil is generally incorrect in his "predictions" of the weather and overall it's a silly Holiday. I think the best thing about it must be the Bill Murray and Andie McDowell movie of the same name, or the fact that we care for a groundhog named Punxsutawney Phil for a whole year to allow him to perform some stupid stunt on February 2. There are also other "famous" groundhogs such as Marion, Ohio's "Buckeye Chuck" and Quarryville, PA's Octoraro Orphie and a host of others. None of this, however, has anything to do with what I'm actually thinking about, but I gotta take take for America's silly holidays that I'm missing in droves.

Yesterday in Lebanon was simply the birthday of one of my many cousins' husbands. Note, the grammar here may be used to imply polygamy. This is not the case. Incest, perhaps, polygamy, definitely not... So I went over to their house and sat around watching movies and partaking in a little scotch and some Turkish beer. The "party" was subdued. I think in general, birthdays are not a big reason for celebration here. I guess this stems from the idea that people don't look as attractive when they age as when they are in their 20's and 30's and everyone here wants to ignore that. In fact I asked another cousin of mine how old she was, and she honestly didn't know. She'd been saying she's 35 for nearly 20 years, and so she just didn't know her age. Well, whatever, I'm American and we celebrate birthdays. I was happy to sit around and have some tasty beverages at a house where I won't be chided for it.

As I left, I decided I'd have one more beer on my own and walk around the village at night by myself. Everyone here was expecting a big snow for today (so far, nothing) and so no one was out and about. I walked down to my grandmother's house, walked up to the main village square, went up on the roof of one aunt's house and just got a great view of the Lebanese mountains on a still winter night. I've been thinking a lot recently about what it will be like to live in Lebanon for some time if hired by a university. Most likely I'll have to be down on the coast in the hustle and bustle of Beirut, which will be fun for me, but in my heart I'm from the mountains. I grew up in mountains which are just slightly smaller than those in which my family resides. I really love the hill country. I am, after all, an ethnic hillbilly (hillbilly on both sides!). So staring out into the (not so cold) night with my breath appearing and then vanishing in front of me, I dreamed about everything Lebanon can be. I poured out a little for all those who have passed, drank to my enemies and all the women I've ever loved, and came back to pass out.

What did I learn? I'm not I learned anything, but only allowed some ideas to crystallize. Getting time to oneself in the country can be a tough thing sometimes, so I just took my sweet time walking between the two houses. Lebanon isn't the culture to which I'm accustomed. It's not a shocking culture to me, but I realize having lived in Atlanta, Chicago, and Philadelphia, I'm ready to tackle Beirut. The problem for me living in the mountains with my family is that I'm expected to be a part of the traditional values to which I have no attachment. I'm sympathetic at times to the causes of my people, but I believe the world is changing. Just as people continue to insist on outdated social structures in Chennai, so to do they insist in Lebanon, and for that matter I'm sure in almost every part of the world. As miniature as Lebanon is, it still has several different conflicting societies. I believe I can be part of the big city society here, as well as part of the wine culture (a whole 30 miles away from Beirut) but neither of these are the homeland that my family longs for.