I got my Visa finally, officially. Approved and stamped.
I am now cumulating as much of my palpable culture as possible, all that is perceptible. Music. Light, I will carry it with me and it is to fill our house in Berlin.
The vice president is shouting at an employee. His yelling fills the corridors. I am about to leave anyway…
And what to do with traffic, the force that has tempered every Lebanese citizen to the point of impairment. It has extended collective patience, amplified it. Our patience stretches with traffic’s steadily mounting length year after year. Throughout a traffic jam we grumble, groan, and complain. The Lebanese citizen learns the art of collective grunting. Sedentary, bravely giving away to fate and awaiting to finally meet comfort at home.
However, I will not be taking the traffic jam with me. It is time to blossom.