Habibi, Habibi, Habibi

We went to Bar Louie to hear "jazz" tonight. Ummm... not so much.

So we've had some really hysterical experiences here.

We've helped push our broken down taxi out of traffic.

We've had to stop to ask (multiple) people on the street how to tell our taxi driver where we want to go.

We've been stopped on the street and had David's name guessed by a guy on a four wheeler. He called him over and said... "Hey, your name's David right!" And it just went from there.

We've gotten to an overnight trip and realized that one of us had no idea it was an overnight trip. Clue; it was not me.

We met a group of people yesterday who have since become our connection to the city, I mean some really cute, hip, young Lebanee trendsters who are fascinated by David's employer. SO FUNNY.

Anyway, we had an incredible dinner at Le Sushi tonight as a result. DELICIOUS!!!!!!!!

Habibi is the sweetest little term of endearment here. I am working on incorporating it into my everyday language, though hearing it emotionally repeated three times in the chorus of a Lebanese easy listening jazz hit tonight almost sent me into fits of laughter. However, I like the thought of it and it kind of rolls of your tongue, "habibi." Almost like you're kind of throwing a twist on the old "baby" - HA baby. Doesn't sound as endearing when you write it like that.

Got the green light on the camp Wednesday. Which is exciting, because after the adventures of our life today - simply set loose in the city - I think I could use some good old fashioned humanitarian aid.