Sunday, March 07, 2010

Of Observations and Observance.

It's been a week or so that I'm silently observing the people around me. A way to reassess maybe. A way to let the world know that I have nothing else to add... for now... and so I'd rather see what other people are adding to this world... to my life, and well, to theirs... Mostly because the period that everyone around me, including me, seem to be passing through cannot be described any better than being in a rut. Yes a rut.
rut, /rʌt/
noun, verb,rut·ted, rut·ting.
–a fixed or established mode of procedure or course of life, usually dull or unpromising: i.e. to fall into a rut.

So here I am sipping drinks at L'Osteria, them' sips of white wine that the waitress kept recommending, although I had never heard of it before... Talk about taking chances! The white wine was a rather delightful "Chateau Khoury" chardonnay if I'm not mistaken, come to think of it, it must have been pretty good since we ordered a couple more bottles. So...here I am sipping drinks at L'Osteria, observing the people around me and gauging their happiness. Not that I have named myself a judge of good standing, but these are people whose lives are transforming right in front of my eyes, some get into relationships, some make mistakes with ex-es, some are unhappy with their jobs and wonder where is this life taking them... And this seems like a recurrent theme, as if, men especially, who appear to have had wonderful, over-the-top-out-of-this-world ambitions, are now left with a regular 9 to 5 job, only to be overworked from 9 to midnight, without any significant gratitude from their colleagues, their bosses, nor the people around them. And so their dreams are crushed... Time to readjust, time to think smaller but steadier... Time to think of starting a family, the last resort to prove that YES you're a man GODDAMMIT!

FlashBack To the day before when we decided to go skiing only to get to the middle of nowhere right before Faraya Village and have the car break down on us. And so what was planned out to be fun in the sun, ended up with me taking part in some voodoo religious ritual to get the car fixed. If this sentence has you lost, dazed or confused, imagine me observing a godsend? mechanic fixing the timing belt, with godsend being the right choice of words seeing how the said mechanic initiates his task by burning incense over the car, saying a little prayer, and insisting that God is working through his hands. The car got fixed eventually. The misadventure turned rather funny incident to remember, showed me how some people, even if living in the middle of nowhere, are grateful for their lives and whatever God sends them. And oh how true it is, when the guy was earning money for his hard work, as we decide that it wasn't worth it to go skiing anymore "Le malheur des uns fait le Bonheur des autres."

FlashForward to Today when I was sitting with R. at Ramlet el Baida for some much needed timeout, for staying at home two days in a row can be a recipe for disaster, and wallowing in self righteousness. So here I am, sipping on a fresh cup of coffee since drinking alcohol at 11 am is frowned upon, but what about Sunday Brunch?! Anyways, here I am observing the sea, the landing Air France Airplane, the Down syndrome child who comes up to say Hello, the rather ugly faced hot bodied 20 something making her way through Corniche with heels, and as of yet intact clothing and makeup. And finally here comes the highlight of my morning, the little boy who made me laugh, the -as R. put it- "Psychomotor Delay"... A seven-ish-year-old boy, learning how to ride a bicycle, falling every once in a while, laughing at his clumsiness, persevering, hitting the garbage can, the rail, the sidewalk, hands and head forward. And laughing... He was a rather fast learner... I'm not sure what he'll end up to be. A mechanic maybe? An engineer? A bum?

It didn't matter then and there, he was learning how to ride his bicycle, and this achievement by itself was ENOUGH!... Unlike my friends who seem to have their great expectations crushed, unlike my own self, dreading the day I will have to settle for a job and so continuing my never ending, rather life consuming, medical education, unlike those who have come to be disappointed by this life and its treacherousness, and so they decided to find fake comfort elsewhere, be it in relationships, in God, in writing, in drawing. Life is not to be trusted. But you are. Trust yourself. And nothing but.