Tripoli by Accident

NOTE:  I started writing this post ages ago, forgot about it, found it again, finished it, and posted it because I've written so little about this wonderful country I'm in.

Two weeks ago, I decided to get out of Beirut.  I didn't really care where, but I wanted to get out of the city and see something new.  I read up on Tyre, a city in the south that I'd heard really good things about and looked like it was 3 hours away by bus, set my alarm for 7:30 am and slept the deep sleep of the soon-to-be adventurous. 
Of course, my alarm didn't go off and I didn't actually wake up until 11. 
So when I did get up, I was faced with the choice of surrendering my whole day to homework and stasis or just getting out and doing ANYthing.  I got up, read through my roommate's guidebook, decided to go to Byblos (only 40 mins away), threw on a cute outfit, bag on my shoulder, out the door to find an adventure.
In the POURING rain.
I don't have an umbrella (note: I have one now), so there was no choice but to just get soaked and try to keep my chin up.  Keeping my mascara up was a little bit harder, so I stopped for a dry-out break on my way to the bus station and grabbed coffee.  The rain only got harder, so I just had to laugh and head back out into it.  Got to the bus station - charmingly located under a random highway overpass - bought a ticket for a bus to Tripoli that was supposed to stop somewhere along the way at Byblos and I'm on my way.
Until, somewhere near Byblos, my bus hits a wall.  Literally.  Or it might have been another bus.  It kind of looked like both.  So we all have to get off the bus and flag down the rickety minivan buses along the highway.  I asked a nice woman whether the bus she was getting on was going to Jbeil (Arabic for Byblos) and she said yes, so I gamely got on and paid my fare.  I found out 10 minutes later that we were already past Jbeil when the bus got in the accident, and I was now crammed into this tiny minibus on my way to Tripoli.

I wanted an adventure.

So, since it would take too long to get all the way to Tripoli, turn around and go back to Byblos, I figured I'd just make an afternoon of it in Tripoli.  And I really did have a lovely time.

I had the guidebook with me, so I read up on the city as we drove through the beautiful countryside, and figured out that pretty much the only thing to see was the old Crusader citadel (Second Crusade, built by the amazing Raymond de Saint-Gilles...second crusade = coolest crusade for sure.  Salah ah-din 4EVA).
When I got into a town, I checked the time for the last bus to Beirut and turned out to have about 4 hours to spend in Tripoli.  I wandered a little in the old city, but I have to say - Tripoli (or Trablous, as it's properly called) felt more like Egypt than Lebanon to me, and not in any good way.  It was grimmer, dirtier, more crowded - on any given city block, I was the only woman with my hair uncovered, and I attracted the attendant attention.  I started getting lost and, not particularly enjoying the feeling, I ducked into a store to ask directions to the "5a'aa" - the citadel.

I didn't get very clear directions, and I must have looked even more confused when I came out of the store, because a man standing at the corner asked me if I needed help.  Going on my newly rediscovered faith in people, I told him that I was lost and that I wanted to go to citadel.  He started to give me directions, then saw a friend of his pulling out of a driveway across the street from where we stood.  Hailing his friend, he asked me if I'd like a ride to the citadel.  WHAT THE HELL, NO, do NOT get in a car with two complete strangers when you're lost in strange city, said my mind.  "OK, merci, ktiir," (Thanks so much), said my mouth.

So there I was, in a lovely new BMW with Ali and Nasser, my two new Trablousi friends.  They drove me to the citadel in record time - and the route was seriously convoluted, so it's a good thing I didn't trust to my map - and we chatted the whole way.  Neither one of them spoke more than the barest English, so it was Arabic or bust!  When we got to the citadel, I asked them if they'd seen it before, and though they were both born and raised in Trablous, neither one had ever been inside!  So of course I invited them to come with me, and they accepted.  Against my protests, they even paid for my admission.

So we had a terrific wander around these ruins.  It was raining most of the time, but pretty lightly, and the gray misty lighting was really picturesque.  We kept speaking Arabic, and somehow I explained to them about things I was learning in my archaeology class and what I knew of Crusader history, and they explained to me about Trablous and their childhoods and their families.  How did we understand each other?  I still don't know, but though they were using words I'd never heard before, I swear I understood everything they told me that day.  And the words I learned from them are words I'll never need to study - they've stayed lodged in my brain and come as easily to me as English.

The view of the city from the citadel was really delightful, and I have some super cheerful awkward pictures of Ali and Nasser.

We had a great afternoon, got soaked by the rain, and they drove me straight to the bus station - and bought my bus ticket home, again despite my strenuous protest.  In return for giving me their entire afternoon and all their generosity, all they asked was that I call them when I made it back to Beirut so they'd know that I was fine.  I dutifully called them, they wished me a wonderful semester, and told me to call them any time I came to Trablous.

What an amazing day!  I love Lebanon.