Koolaids (24 page)

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: [email protected]

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 diary. 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.

(The waiter brings the coffee. They completely ignore him.)

AMAL:
That's wonderful. Is he going to move back here or live in Boston?

SYLVIE:
It's here in Paris. It's wonderful. I am sure he will have to fly to Boston every now and then.

AMAL:
I am so happy for you. If he does fly to Boston, tell him to look up Murwan.

SYLVIE:
Is he still at MIT?

AMAL:
Yes. He should be done with his master's in a couple of years.

SYLVIE:
You must be so proud of him.

AMAL:
I am. I am, darling. He is just so bright.

SYLVIE:
So what is the latest?

AMAL:
Not much. Things have been slow in Beirut.

SYLVIE:
That is not always a bad thing.

AMAL:
I know. Did you hear that Marie-Christine's eldest son got married?

SYLVIE:
Yes, of course. How was the wedding? I heard they spent a fortune.

AMAL:
They sure did. Would you believe three million dollars?

SYLVIE:
You have to be kidding.

AMAL:
No. I swear.

SYLVIE:
Are they that rich?

AMAL:
My dear, where have you been? The Ballans are loaded. From Africa. Their main business is in Liberia. Pharmaceuticals, car dealerships, gas stations, rubber plants, you name it. They are very rich. They practically run that country. They were the first Lebanese there.

SYLVIE:
I bet it was awful.

AMAL:
Awful
does not begin to describe it. A complete disaster. You should have seen the dress. It cost half a million dollars and it was the ugliest thing.

SYLVIE:
Half a million? My God, who designed it?

AMAL:
You're not going to believe it.
(Pause.)
Some American designer.

SYLVIE:
American?

(Amal nods her head. They are looking at each other, when they both start laughing. Not too loudly. It lasts for at least a minute. Sylvie tries to stop laughing. She places her hand on Amal's hand, hoping to control herself. They stop for a second. Then they have another fit of giggling.)

SYLVIE:
Why? My God, why would they do that?

AMAL:
They wanted something different, they said. For that kind of money, they could have had a Montana.

SYLVIE:
A Léger.

AMAL:
A Versace.

SYLVIE:
That poor girl.

AMAL:
No, my dear. Poor Marie-Christine. Just imagine what she had to go through at that wedding.

SYLVIE:
Oh, the poor dear.

AMAL:
The Ballan girl is incredibly ugly. I can't imagine what her son saw in her.

SYLVIE:
As ugly as the Bandoura girl?

AMAL:
No, my dear, that one is really ugly. This one is close, though.

SYLVIE:
That one was so ugly. I couldn't believe she found a husband.

AMAL:
Money, dear, money. Daddy has money.

SYLVIE:
All I have to say is Patrick better not bring me some ugly girl. I would have none of it.

AMAL:
Is he seeing anybody?

SYLVIE:
Not right now. He was seeing an English girl for a while. I put a stop to that.

AMAL:
Good for you. You don't want people to talk too much.

SYLVIE:
I'll find him a suitable girl when the time comes.

AMAL:
So how is Manal?

SYLVIE:
She gained all the weight she lost.

AMAL:
I thought she was on a strict diet.

SYLVIE:
Not anymore.

(Sylvie opens her purse and offers Amal a cigarette, and takes one herself. Amal uses her designer lighter to light both of them.)

SYLVIE:
What else is going on?

AMAL:
Not much. Amin Dabyan is getting married.

SYLVIE:
He's such a handsome boy. Who's the fool?

AMAL:
The same girl he's been going out with for years.

SYLVIE:
The Makarem girl? I would think her father would not approve.

AMAL:
Oh, he doesn't. There is not much he can do. She's a headstrong girl.

SYLVIE:
But she was married once before.

AMAL:
Yes. It lasted six months.

SYLVIE:
And her father still lets her do what she wants?

AMAL:
They both are heavy cocaine users, so her father just doesn't know what to do.

SYLVIE:
She was always trouble. She was in Janine's class. She was trouble then.

AMAL:
Well, here's a tidbit that will amuse you, dear. They are saying her first marriage was not consummated.

SYLVIE:
What?

AMAL:
That's what the Dabyans are saying. Her first marriage was not consummated. She is still a virgin.

SYLVIE:
What?

(Repeat the first laughing scene. Amal nods her head. They look at each other and start laughing. It goes on for a while as they try to compose themselves.)

SYLVIE:
She's still a virgin?

AMAL:
That's what they say.

SYLVIE:
And the abortion she had before she got married the first time?

AMAL:
It never happened.

SYLVIE:
Will miracles never cease?

(More laughter. Amal takes out some tissues from her purse and gives one to Sylvie. They both wipe tears from their eyes delicately.)

SYLVIE:
I guess her first child will proclaim himself to be the Lord, as well.

AMAL:
No chance. After the abortion, something went wrong. She can't have any more children.

SYLVIE:
I didn't know that. Why would the boy want to marry her then?

AMAL:
Must be the money or the drugs. They have been doing the nasty for a couple of years.

SYLVIE:
Yes, but she remains a virgin.

AMAL:
Absolutely.

SYLVIE:
You know that slut, and I do use the description judiciously, was not a virgin when she was in Janine's class. She must have been fourteen or fifteen, and was sleeping around then.

AMAL:
Speaking of sluts, you know the youngest Takla girl, Samira?

SYLVIE:
Who is she sleeping with now?

AMAL:
I don't know his name, but he is seventeen.

SYLVIE:
Oh, my God. How old is she? Twenty-four?

AMAL:
Something like that.

SYLVIE:
Tragic. Tragic. Anyway, I have some news. Do you know Fadia's boy?

AMAL:
The homosexual?

SYLVIE:
You knew he was homosexual?

AMAL:
Of course, dear. Well, suspected really. How old is he? Thirty? A bachelor living in California?

SYLVIE:
That's true. But I never wanted to say anything. Too embarrassing for Fadia. Anyway, he has AIDS.

AMAL:
No?

SYLVIE:
It's true. It's gotten to the point where he couldn't hide it anymore.

AMAL:
Poor Fadia. What is she going to do?

SYLVIE:
She's telling everybody he has leukemia.

AMAL:
The poor thing. She's probably going through hell. Everybody will start talking behind her back.

SYLVIE:
I felt so sorry for her. I saw her last week. She pretended everything was okay, but you could tell.

AMAL:
Poor Fadia.

SYLVIE:
This topic is too distressing. What do you want to do? Do you want to go to the Faubourg and see what they have?

SYLVIE:
Yes, that sounds lovely. Where's our waiter?

AMAL:
Probably resting. These French work so hard.

(Both giggle.)

SYLVIE:
You're coming with us to dinner, right?

AMAL:
No, I can't.

SYLVIE:
You must. I won't have it. You must come.

AMAL:
Are you sure?

SYLVIE:
I must insist.

AMAL:
Okay. I'll break my diet for tonight only.

SYLVIE:
Good girl. Now, where's that damn waiter?