| [01:41.500] |
So we left Beirut Willa and I |
| [01:44.500] |
He headed East to Baghdad and the rest of it |
| [01:48.000] |
I set out North on home |
| [01:51.200] |
I walked the five or six miles to the last of the street lamps |
| [01:54.900] |
And hunkered in the kerbside dusk |
| [01:57.000] |
Holding out my thumb |
| [01:58.500] |
In no great hope at the ramshackle procession of home bound traffic |
| [02:03.500] |
Success! |
| [02:05.500] |
An ancient Mercedes 'dolmus ' |
| [02:08.000] |
The ubiquitous Arab shared taxi drew up |
| [02:11.800] |
I turned out my pockets and shrugged at the driver |
| [02:15.500] |
" J'ai pas de l'argent " “ |
| [02:17.900] |
" Venez! " A soft voice from the back seat “ |
| [02:20.800] |
The driver lent wearily across and pushed open the back door |
| [02:25.200] |
I stooped to look inside at the two men there |
| [02:28.000] |
One besuited, bespectacled, moustached, irritated, distant, late |
| [02:33.800] |
The other, the one who had spoken, |
| [02:36.800] |
Frail, fifty five-ish, bald, sallow, in a short sleeved pale blue cotton shirt |
| [02:43.000] |
With one biro in the breast pocket |
| [02:45.000] |
A clerk maybe, slightly sunken in the seat |
| [02:48.800] |
"Venez!" He said again, and smiled “ |
| [02:52.300] |
"Mais j'ai pas de l'argent" “ |
| [02:53.600] |
"Oui, Oui, d'accord, Venez!" |
| [02:58.600] |
Are these the people that we should bomb |
| [03:05.300] |
Are we so sure they mean us harm |
| [03:12.500] |
Is this our pleasure, punishment or crime |
| [03:19.000] |
Is this a mountain that we really want to climb |
| [03:25.900] |
The road is hard, hard and long |
| [03:32.750] |
Put down that two by four |
| [03:35.400] |
This man would never turn you from his door |
| [03:39.900] |
Oh George! Oh George! |
| [03:45.600] |
That Texas education must have fucked you up when you were very small |
| [03:53.600] |
He beckoned with a small arthritic motion of his hand |
| [03:57.300] |
Fingers together like a child waving goodbye |
| [04:01.600] |
The driver put my old Hofner guitar in the boot with my rucksack |
| [04:05.100] |
And off we went |
| [04:07.650] |
" Vous etes Francais, monsieur? " “ |
| [04:09.300] |
" Non, Anglais " |
| [04:10.400] |
" Ah! Anglais " |
| [04:13.000] |
" Est-ce que vous parlais Anglais, Monsieur? " “ |
| [04:14.950] |
"Non, je regrette" “ |
| [04:17.200] |
And so on |
| [04:18.300] |
In small talk between strangers, his French alien but correct |
| [04:23.000] |
Mine halting but eager to please |
| [04:25.300] |
A lift, after all, is a lift |
| [04:28.750] |
Late moustache left us brusquely |
| [04:30.800] |
And some miles later the dolmus slowed at a crossroads lit by a single lightbulb |
| [04:35.150] |
Swung through a U-turn and stopped in a cloud of dust |
| [04:39.000] |
I opened the door and got out |
| [04:41.100] |
But my benefactor made no move to follow |
| [04:47.400] |
The driver dumped my guitar and rucksack at my feet |
| [04:49.800] |
And waving away my thanks returned to the boot |
| [04:52.300] |
Only to reappear with a pair of alloy crutches |
| [04:55.300] |
Which he leaned against the rear wing of the Mercedes. |
| [04:59.050] |
He reached into the car and lifted my companion out |
| [05:02.000] |
Only one leg, the second trouser leg neatly pinned beneath a vacant hip |
| [05:06.900] |
" Monsieur, si vous voulez, ca sera un honneur pour nous “ |
| [05:09.700] |
Si vous venez avec moi a la maison pour manger avec ma femme " |
| [05:15.700] |
When I was 17 my mother, bless her heart, fulfilled my summer dream |
| [05:25.000] |
She handed me the keys to the car |
| [05:29.400] |
We motored down to Paris, fuelled with Dexedrine and booze |
| [05:35.350] |
Got bust in Antibes by the cops |
| [05:38.600] |
And fleeced in Naples by the wops |
| [05:43.000] |
But everyone was kind to us, we were the English dudes |
| [05:49.100] |
Our dads had helped them win the war |
| [05:52.470] |
When we all knew what we were fighting for |
| [05:56.800] |
But now an Englishman abroad is just a US stooge |
| [06:02.750] |
The bulldog is a poodle snapping round the scoundrel's last refuge |
| [06:10.500] |
"Ma femme", thank God! Monopod but not queer “ |
| [06:16.690] |
The taxi drove off leaving us in the dim light of the swinging bulb |
| [06:20.650] |
No building in sight |
| [06:22.200] |
What the hell |
| [06:23.900] |
"Merci monsieur" “ |
| [06:25.250] |
"Bon, Venez!" |
| [06:25.950] |
His faced creased in pleasure, he set off in front of me |
| [06:30.310] |
Swinging his leg between the crutches with agonising care |
| [06:33.700] |
Up the dusty side road into the darkness |
| [06:37.900] |
After half an hour we'd gone maybe half a mile |
| [06:40.700] |
When on the right I made out the low profile of a building |
| [06:44.500] |
He called out in Arabic to announce our arrival |
| [06:47.550] |
And after some scuffling inside a lamp was lit |
| [06:50.700] |
And the changing angle of light in the wide crack under the door |
| [06:53.850] |
Signalled the approach of someone within |
| [07:01.300] |
The door creaked open and there, holding a biblical looking oil lamp |
| [07:05.200] |
Stood a squat, moustached woman, stooped smiling up at us |
| [07:12.150] |
She stood aside to let us in and as she turned |
| [07:14.850] |
I saw the reason for her stoop |
| [07:16.120] |
She carried on her back a shocking hump |
| [07:19.550] |
I nodded and smiled back at her in greeting, fighting for control |
| [07:26.150] |
The gentleness between the one-legged man and his monstrous wife |
| [07:29.395] |
America, America, please hear us when we call |
| [07:29.900] |
Almost too much for me |
| [07:31.900] |
Is gentleness too much for us |
| [07:35.250] |
Should gentleness be filed along with empathy |
| [07:42.100] |
We feel for someone else's child |
| [07:46.030] |
Every time a smart bomb does its sums and gets it wrong |
| [07:52.725] |
Someone else's child dies and equities in defence rise |
| [08:05.875] |
You got hip-hop, be-bop, hustle and bustle |
| [08:09.150] |
You got Atticus Finch |
| [08:11.250] |
You got Jane Russell |
| [08:12.900] |
You got freedom of speech |
| [08:14.900] |
You got great beaches, wildernesses and malls |
| [08:19.850] |
Don't let the might, the Christian right, fuck it all up |
| [08:24.950] |
For you and the rest of the world |
| [08:28.100] |
They talked excitedly |
| [08:29.850] |
She went to take his crutches in routine of care |
| [08:32.800] |
He chiding, gestured |
| [08:35.150] |
We have a guest |
| [08:36.700] |
She embarrassed by her faux pas |
| [08:38.650] |
Took my things and laid them gently in the corner |
| [08:42.450] |
"Du the?" |
| [08:44.500] |
We sat on meagre cushions in one corner of the single room |
| [08:47.500] |
The floor was earth packed hard and by one wall a raised platform |
| [08:51.700] |
Some six feet by four covered by a simple sheet, the bed |
| [08:57.000] |
The hunchback busied herself with small copper pots over an open hearth |
| [09:01.100] |
And brought us tea, hot and sweet |
| [09:03.865] |
And so to dinner |
| [09:05.400] |
Flat, unleavened bread, + thin |
| [09:08.050] |
Cooked in an iron skillet in hearth |
| [09:10.430] |
Then folded and dipped into the soft insides of female sea urchins |
| [09:19.600] |
She would hear of nothing else, I was their guest |
| [09:19.725] |
My hostess did not eat, I ate her dinner |
| [09:22.900] |
And then she retired behind a curtain |
| [09:25.675] |
And left the men to sit drinking thimbleful of Arak |
| [09:29.500] |
Carefully poured from a small bottle with a faded label |
| [09:32.900] |
Soon she reappeared, radiant |
| [09:35.695] |
Carrying in her arms their pride and joy, their child. |
| [09:41.880] |
I'd never seen a squint like that |
| [09:44.965] |
So severe that as one eye looked out the other disappeared behind its nose |
| [09:49.880] |
Not in my name, Tony, you great war leader you |
| [09:56.200] |
Terror is still terror, whosoever gets to frame the rules |
| [10:03.000] |
History's not written by the vanquished or the damned |
| [10:10.435] |
Now we are Genghis Khan, Lucrezia Borghia, Son of Sam |
| [10:16.400] |
In 1961 they took this child into their home |
| [10:23.300] |
I wonder what became of them |
| [10:26.550] |
In the cauldron that was Lebanon |
| [10:31.020] |
If I could find them now, could I make amends? |
| [10:37.800] |
How does the story end? |
| [10:45.000] |
And so to bed, me that is, not them |
| [10:51.000] |
Of course they slept on the floor behind a curtain |
| [10:55.000] |
Whilst I lay awake all night on their earthen bed |
| [10:58.850] |
Then came the dawn and then their quiet stirrings |
| [11:02.350] |
I turned North, my guitar over my shoulder |
| [11:02.600] |
Careful not to wake the guest |
| [11:05.200] |
I yawned in great pretence |
| [11:05.800] |
And the first hot gust of wind |
| [11:07.400] |
And took the proffered bowl of water heated up and washed |
| [11:08.100] |
Quickly dried the salt tears from my young cheeks. |
| [11:10.750] |
And sipped my coffee in its tiny cup |
| [11:13.330] |
And then with much "merci-ing" and bowing and shaking of hands |
| [11:17.050] |
We left the woman to her chores |
| [11:19.600] |
And we men made our way back to the crossroads |
| [11:23.300] |
The painful slowness of our progress accentuated by the brilliant morning light |
| [11:32.197] |
The dolmus duly reappeared |
| [11:35.000] |
My host gave me one crutch and leaning on the other |
| [11:37.550] |
Shook my hand and smiled |
| [11:40.000] |
"Merci, monsieur," I said “ |
| [11:42.200] |
" De rien " “ |
| [11:43.850] |
" Et merci a votre femme, elle est tres gentille " “ |
| [11:49.600] |
Giving up his other crutch |
| [11:50.850] |
He allowed himself to be folded into the back seat again |
| [11:54.500] |
"Bon voyage, monsieur," he said “ |
| [11:56.945] |
And half bowed as the taxi headed south towards the city |
