Baalbek

After finally getting my Indian visa, I decided to spend my last day in Lebanon at one of the classic sights, the Roman ruins of Heliopolis. They are up in the mountains, where the cool air made wandering around in midday sun a little more bearable. The ruins are incredibly well preserved, and were far larger than the Parthenon. The temple of Bacchus has a lovely carved ceiling and lion shaped rain spouts, as well as a good mosaic of the hedonist god himself.

As the Bekka valley is the home of the party of god, there is a Hizbollah museum and gift shop just outside the ruins entrance. A diorama room filled with middle-school level styrofoam cutouts represents their apparent military glory over the bat-winged Israelis. Their marketing department must work overtime to produce the vast array of pins, flags, t-shirts, and DVD’s available for sale. I almost purchased some, but the thought of directly giving them money was a little much. Besides, I already have a beach towel.

Tonight I went to the Bourj al-Barajneh refugee camp just outside of Beirut for a screening of Slingshot Hiphop, a documentary about several Palestinian rappers. It was one of the best films I have seen in a long time, and does an excellent job at humanizing the conflict. There is no US distribution deal yet, but the director told me she is working with Sundance to get it out there. At dinner and drinks afterwards, a fellow American regaled me with the entire history of Tupac and the other American political rappers who are cited as inspiring forces in the film. As always, my education continues.