We are past the dizzy peaks of nearly 40 degrees Celsius experienced in August, but the air across the tin roofing still shimmers and I’m sure if there were any proper tarmac to speak of in Beirut it would be melting.
This summer I’ve been frugal with the air conditioning, aware that many across the country are undergoing long power cuts, their energy sapped by the capital and its visitors, as it masquerades as a first-world city. But not any more.
Nearly a month ago our taps ran dry. The tanks on the roof were empty. The municipal supply is now a mere trickle lasting just a few hours every other night. Just enough time to fill a few bottles, then that’s it for two days.
The sink soon fills with dirty dishes, so we decide to get out of the mess and eat out. The air is so warm and humid it feels like wading through a swimming pool. As we dodge the holes in the road (never refilled), avoid slithering two storeys down into some half-built underground car park (never cordoned off) and squeeze past the cars which have been thoughtfully scattered along the pavement (by “valet parking”), we literally stumble across a revelation: several plastic bottles on the pavement full of water. They are being fed by the plastic tubes taped to them which channel the distilled water from Read the rest of this entry »