Broken dreams

Yesterday I did something I had wanted to do for several days, I gave Jad a call. He is a 30-year-old Lebanese living in Brussels, an architect with several diplomas and masters; he has lived in several countries, speaks not less than 7 languages, and is a very intelligent person. He is also very assertive, and his strong character clashed with that of our Dutch teacher some months ago. His name, it seems, is not very common for a Lebanese. Normally parents name their children with names that show the religion or ethnic group they belong to, but in his case, with father and mother of different religions, they opted for something neutral. People often ask him what his religion is, and he always says he belongs to no group: I am Lebanese. He is particularly proud of his mixed origin, and he belongs to a generation that seriously believes in peace and reconstruction of the country. I remember how happy he was about Syria leaving Lebanon. Now we will be able to take our own future in our own hands, we will demonstrate understanding and tolerance to the rest of region and to the rest of the world. His plans were going back to Lebanon in one or two years time and do his part in helping building the country. He had already started by creating an NGO that sponsored some small projects in rural areas, and was full of ideals. Even his Belgian girlfriend was ready to go with him and start a new life in this Promised Land.

Now Jad is under a shock. His family is all right, as they live in a Christian neighbourhood of Beirut and don’t fear the bombing, but the country is not. Several hundreds of civilians killed, billions of dollars worth infrastructure destroyed, one quarter of the total population displaced, and a big question: why? What does Israel gain with all that destruction? Why so much hate? The only winner will be Hizbulah, that will ripe the thirst for revenge in a growing number of Lebanese.

I gave Jad my interpretation, that Israel suffers a case of collective hysteria. The same as the Americans, that with post-11^th September fears need to see some revenge and military action taken, so the Israelis need to see clear action against Hizbulah and are completely blinded to see the pain they inflict in the majority of Lebanese that nothing have to do with the extremists.

I am really sad for Jad, and for the rest of the Lebanon. 4 million people dreaming during 15 years to build an impossible country, and now it can be gone in barely 15 days. Will this generation have the mental strength to rebuild a country for the second time (not to mention the financial)? It will take many Jads to recover from this madness.

San Sebastian at my feet

Well, not really. The town is indeed San Sebastian, and the feet are actually mine, but it is at nobody’s feet. Political conflict exists, as in the rest of the Basque country, but the atmosphere is pretty relaxed, especially these days of ceasefire. And it is great, because San Sebastian is definitely worth a visit (or two). Very nice buildings, delicious food and not really expensive (Pintxos!) and very cool people. What else can I say? The sea, of course, and a great location by the bay. We missed the famous Jazz Festival (one week too early), although that’s a good excuse to go back next year.

Inma, Sixto, Nerea and Unai, great friends, good to see you again, together with Almu, who made it from Madrid. What a great weekend. Unfortunately I missed once again Rafa, and Antonio couldn’t come from England. Amaya was still in the Caribbean and I think I won’t see her before she goes to Nepal. Maybe if I make it to Madrid in August …

Toots Thielemans

Toots Thielemans, who was closing this year’s edition of Brosella festival, has been my discovery of the week. He is an old man of 84, a living legend of jazz, and the best harmonica player I have ever seen (actually heard). A bruxellois himself (born at Les Marolles; as he said, “plus bruxellois tu meurres”), he has been living in the US since the 50s. He has played with everybody you can imagine, travelled all around the world and his harmonica has also been in many famous films. His music was fabulous, gorgeous, amazing, …. and the character himself, such a sweet man … He told us so many stories in his mixture of French, Dutch and English (he didn’t seem capable of sticking to only one language), and none of them was boring. He seems one of those men who have lived so much, who have made history, but that are so down to earth and natural about it that you can listen to them for hours. I like people like him, young in spirit, cheerful and refreshing, 84 and of course not retired. People like him don’t retire. They just keep playing, travelling, meeting people, and that until the day they die.

He was accompanied by three young musicians under 30, and they all delighted us with lots of good jazz stuff. Also in the program, a song composed by him and dedicated to his wife (to whom he declared his love from the stage), and the most beautiful version ever of “ne me quite pas” with his incredible crying harmonica.

more on Football as social phenomenon

And once again, I can't escape from football. Italy has just beaten Germany a few minutes ago, and I hear people celebrating all around. It seems I'm surrounded by Italians (or perhaps there's only a few of them, but very noisy).

Last Friday I was in La Bourse when Italy had just won another match. It was also quite an experience. Tifosi took over the stairs of the building where my friends of the MBA were celebrating their own success only a couple of hours before. There were several hundreds of them, blocking the traffic, shouting like crazy, and waving Italian flags. A few policemen were there to control the situation, although they were basically just looking without saying much. How would they dare to ... Just in front of their eyes dozens of cars overstuffed with people inside, in the boot, on the top, ... waiving more flags and blowing their horns no stop. Even Belgian police knows that sometimes they have to ignore the offences to the Code de la Route. You simply cannot contend against a mass after a football match.

What I regret is that this social power of football -which is known to be good for politics, did not help much to stopping the civil war in Côte d'Ivore (Ivory Coast). The leaders of the country expected that a successful national team with players from both sides would bring the hostilities to an end. Wouldn't that have been nice, an African world champion that brings reconciliation through sports?