Category Archives: Blog

Tonight, after my daily sunset swim in the sea, I sauntered over to Dar Cafe (above) for dinner with a friend. At dinner, when we were discussing our upcoming travel plans, he said that the three places he loves the most in the world are the backstreets of Havana, the alleys of Damascus and the streets of Rangoon.

Ah, Damascus. When he said that word, I flashbacked to my time strolling in those same alleys at night, under small white holiday lights. I’d forgotten how much I love Damascus, because it’s painful to even think about what’s going on next door in Syria. When I was in Syria last, I took a number of photographs, and maybe I’ll share of them on this blog. It’s easy to forget about how much beauty there is in Syria, when all we see in the news are scenes of horror and destruction.

Below is a picture of one of my favorite hotels in Damascus–it’s called Talisman. The hotel itself is a restored 300 year old Jewish palace located in the Jewish quarter of old Damascus–it’s breathtaking. When they open up the unmarked door and reveal what’s inside–it’s just, wow. Perhaps I’ll share more photos of its beauty in an upcoming post…

In my recent article “The Faces of Afghanistan’s Future”, I profiled some young Afghans, and wondered what their lives will be like in the years to come. Will they thank us? Curse us? Forgive us?

Tragically, children on both sides bear the brunt of war and violence–as illustrated today in a new report which finds that U.S. army child abuse cases have jumped 40% from 2009. This trend correlates with the return of tens of thousands of troops from Iraq and Afghanistan. Another report released today found that civilian casualties in Afghanistan have spiked 23%. Perhaps instead of just thinking about the war wounds of the children of Afghanistan, I should also be thinking the same about the children of veterans back here at home. Sadly, cycles of violence usually continue for generations to come–on both sides.

Look at that face. I can’t get it out of my head. And his shirt says, “ALWAYS POSITIVELY LOVE EACH OTHER–SMILE” and then some words underneath which I’ve forgotten. Perhaps he doesn’t even know what his own shirt says–but when I stumbled upon him and his little gang playing in the ruins of a house rumored by Afghans to be related to Rumi, this little boy was the one who greeted me–and I can’t think of a more perfect message to have been delivered by a child in the middle of a war zone (even if he had no clue what it said). To view my photographs of children in Afghanistan, please see my new Huffington Post article, “The Faces of Afghanistan’s Future”.

I’m totally exhausted after serving another Ramadan iftar to hundreds of people here in Beirut–it’s an enormous amount of food we bring to the tables–and because there are so many of those tables, the area that we serve is really large. It’s quite a hike back and forth to the kitchen.

When I got home and went online, I found out Huffington Post just published my new piece Ramadan Nights in Beirut: Serving the Poor and Displaced–about serving iftars at different places in Beirut during Ramadan. Enjoy, and thanks for any help in passing it on!

Every day, I make it a point to go swim with the fish in the sea–I track them, spy on their schools, and invade their coral homes without any warrant. Some days, the waves are rolling with them, other days, the fish lay low–real low. But recently, I encountered some fish outside of the water–no, not a landshark or sharknado–but a school of them, swimming through the souq, like the graffiti fish pictured above.

I took a number of photos of this colorful school of fish, and every day I’ll be serving up a fish of the day. Check back each day to see which fish, decorated by different Lebanese artists, you like the most.

Looks like my latest Huffington Post article, “On Pins and Needles in Beirut”–about acupuncture in Beirut–just got posted. If you haven’t tried acupuncture before–go ahead, and give it a whirl!

Oh, wow.

Now THAT’S a fruit.

While on my culinary excursion this week-end in Beirut
(i.e. a trip to the supermarket),
I encountered all kinds of exotic fruits.

These are just a few pictures
we snapped while exploring (and tasting)
all the gourmet yumminess on display.

I’m making it my resolution to try
at least one
really weird
fruit a week.

While out on a culinary adventure yesterday, my friend took me to The Garden, a lovely rooftop cafe, to try their smoothies and sweets. The cafe is known for its exquisite desserts by French Chef Eric Sinnig and its vertical gardening–one of the cooler and more recent trends in urban horticulture. Projects like Wonder Beirut Forest and Beirut Green Project want to cover the top of every building in Beirut with plants and trees–and many in Beirut are interested in making Beirut a garden city. But as the NYTimes pointed out this week-end, you can tend a vertical garden wherever you are. With outdoor organic food markets, vertical gardens and gourmet organic supermarkets, living a “green” life in Beirut with a focus on sustainability is not only possible–but also fun. To keep up with the latest “green” news from the Middle East, please click here.

Well, the birthday boy is just exhausted. Anubis took extra time today to stop and smell the flowers. It’s hard work being a chihuahua–when they’re not off fighting crime, they’re being mobbed by fans for being so cute. Happy Birthday to Anubis–may his reign last forever and ever!

Yesterday, I heard a Lebanese dervish ask a Sufi teacher: “What are some things we can do to get rid of negative energy?”

The dervish explained that she was talking about the negativity of one’s own anger, sorrows and resentments, as well as negativity received from others–especially in the form of jealousy (that infamous evil eye).

“Hug a tree,” the Sufi teacher said, “and it will absorb any negative energy.”

In a country filled with cedar forests, there are plenty to go around.

“And walk on the sand in your bare feet–sand too will absorb any negativity or toxicity,” the Sufi teacher added.

So yes, I guess there are literal treehuggers in Lebanon–giving their negativity over to nature, trying together to become free.

This morning, I was scheduled to whirl for another Ramadan dhikr in Beirut–even though the beautiful dhikr from the night before ended only several hours before. I didn’t think I would be able to whirl at all today–because when I woke up, I received some terrible news: my friend had been brutally murdered in Hawaii. Her family, her friends–we are all stunned…

In the words of her acting coach, “She was the sweetest, nicest. If you talk to anybody, they’ll tell you she was the most quiet, unthreatening, gentle person you could imagine.” In fact, most of the people with whom she shared her sweet generosity, cheerful spirit, and deep insight called her an angel–brimming with love and light. Being in her peaceful and luminous presence was to be both humbled and inspired…

In all of the coverage of her death, everyone keeps repeating the same refrain: any death is sad–but to lose someone like her is tragic–she touched so many lives, and gave so much–and with such sweetness…

Despite the heavy weight of this loss, I still attended the dhikr this morning–to whirl for her and in her memory. The Lebanese Sufis at the dhikr graciously extended their condolences–along with their hearts & prayers–for a woman half way around the world whom they never met–but they seemed just as shocked and sad to hear the news as I was…as we all were…

And so for our dear friend, I whirled…filled with many more questions than answers–filled with a longing to keep her beautiful spirit alive…

In the hearts of all of those remembering her tonight–aching with loss and longing–her soul’s light is clearly still shining through. Violence may have ended her life, but it can’t extinguish all of the light and love she gave to this world–which remains in our hearts. This dance–and all future ones–are for you, dear friend…

Tonight I had the pleasure of performing with Sufis, singers and musicians at WAKE in Beirut. WAKE is a non-profit organization established in memory of Mohammad Dimashkieh (1988-2011), who passed away in a tragic car accident in Beirut on 14 January 2011. At the time, he was a student finishing his senior year at the American University of Beirut.

WAKE is committed to fostering both tolerance and appreciation for the rich diversity of religions in Lebanon and beyond. In addition to providing an open space for the sharing of a number of different spiritual traditions, WAKE also celebrates artistic achievements and expression within the various religions of the world. WAKE regularly offers courses to the public on Sufism, philosophy, and comparative religion.

I have long admired the contributions of WAKE to the cultural, spiritual and artistic landscape of Beirut, and I’m really grateful that I had the opportunity to contribute in some small way. In a world riddled with so much tension and conflict, it’s nice to recognize the individuals and organizations striving to bring together people from different backgrounds to find common ground–while celebrating our differences at the same time…

Everywhere I wander, I like to get to know the children–for me, that’s where it’s at–it’s always such an honor and joy to meet face-to-face with the future–to meet those who will have to carry and bear our decisions in the present–for better and worse…

The picture above I took while I was in Afghanistan–thankfully, I had the opportunity to spend time with a number of children there, and I’m looking forward to sharing them–and some of their stories–with you.

While reviewing these photos tonight, I was reminded of a Rumi poem–perhaps that’s because Rumi himself was from the region of Afghanistan/Tajikistan. Everywhere I went in Afghanistan, the children not only knew of Rumi–they could even quote his poetry.  I wonder how many of them know this one…

The Sheikh Who Played With Children

A certain young man was asking around,
“I need to find a wise person. I have a problem.”
A bystander said, “There’s no one with intelligence
in our town except that man over there
playing with the children,
the one riding the stick-horse.
He has keen, fiery insight and vast dignity
like the night sky, but he conceals it
in the madness of child’s play.”
 
The young seeker approached the children:
“Dear father, you who have become as a child, tell me a secret.”
“Go away. This is not a day for secrets.”
“But please! Ride your horse this way, just for a minute.”

The sheikh play-galloped over.
“Speak quickly. I can’t hold this one still for long.
Whoops. Don’t let him kick you.
This is a wild one!”
 
The young man felt he couldn’t ask his serious question
in the crazy atmosphere, so he joked,
“I need to get married.
Is there someone suitable on this street?”
 
“There are three kinds of women in the world.
Two are griefs, and one is a treasure to the soul.
The first, when you marry her, is all yours.
The second is half-yours, and the third
is not yours at all.
Now get out of here,
before this horse kicks you in the head! Easy now!”
The sheikh rode off among the children.
 
The young man shouted, “Tell me more about the kinds of women!”
The sheikh, on his cane horsie, came closer,
“The virgin of your first love is all yours. She will make you feel happy and free.
A childless widow is the second. She will be half-yours.
The third, who is nothing to you, is a married woman with a child.
By her first husband she had a child, and all her love
goes into that child.
She will have no connection with you.
Now watch out.
Back away.
I’m going to turn this rascal around!”
 
He gave a loud whoop and rode back,
calling the children around him.
 
“One more question, Master!”
 
The sheikh circled:
“What is it? Quickly! That rider over there needs me.
I think I’m in love.”
 
“What is this playing that you do?
Why do you hide your intelligence so?”
 
“The people here want to put me in charge.
They want me to be judge, magistrate, and interpreter of all the texts.
The knowing I have doesn’t want that. It wants to enjoy itself.
I am a plantation of sugarcane, and at the same time
I’m eating the sweetness.”
 
Knowledge that is acquired is not like this.
Those who have it worry if audiences like it or not.
It’s a bait for popularity.
Disputational knowing wants customers.
It has no soul.
Robust and energetic before a responsive crowd,
it slumps when no one is there.
The only real customer is God.
 
Chew quietly
your sweet sugarcane God-Love,
and stay playfully childish.
Your face will turn rosy with illumination
like the rosebud flowers.

— Rumi (from the Coleman Barks’ translation published as “Selected Poems” by Penguin Classics in 2004)

Yesterday, a young Lebanese boy (about 7 years old) who was playing with Anubis, asked: “Do you read him bedtime stories at night?” It was so cute.

Earlier today, I found out that Anubis will have some upcoming news to share soon–so stay tuned!