I get letters

Last night, the first of the Lebanese refugees from the south came to stay at my hotel.

But first, the news: http://www.bloomberg.com/apps/news?pid=20601102&sid=aETA7P9gJAgs&refer=uk

We spent last evening in relative quiet - myself, the American, the Canadian and the Norwegian. We're the last tenants here aside from Talal himself, his nephew and a young worker from Syria.

On the roof, we sat in silence while the sun dropped. It's been nearly silent for days - no commerce, no construction, no people; the cranes on the skyline haven't moved. Just the occasional military transport thundering by.

Night is a different story. I found myself doing something kind of odd last night. The heavy shelling from the military boats and the airstrikes typically start some time after midnight. While attempting to push myself into sleep I found myself counting the seconds between the "poof" (sound of far off military boat firing) and the resounding impact of the shell somewhere in the city. And then telling myself "one mile per second."

(Fitty poster near AUBeirut)

When I was a kid, we used to play a game during those flash thunder storms common in the evenings after a hazy New England summer day. Before the start of the rain, myself and whatever kids I was running around with would run inside the nearest house and group around a windowsill to watch the sheets come down. We'd pray for lightning and when it came we'd count the seconds between the flash of lightning and the thunder crack - we'd count out loud as a group. The number of seconds equaled how far away the lighting strike was.

For obvious reasons, this technique does not apply when trying to figure out how far away an Israeli gunship is from it's target, let alone your hostel. Nonetheless, it was the only thing that got me to sleep last night through the sound of the attacks. Upon the sound of an impact, you'd hear a cacophony of cars horns - I think they beep in defiance, but I'm not sure how anyone who had honked their horn after narrowly being missed by a shell would explain their actions. Or if it matters.

After midnight, myself and the American - alone in one of the dorm rooms among a few empty beds - jumped out of bed when the sound of a small group of people entering into the room. Hair trigger, I guess.

The Syrian ushered an old man into the room while a few other Lebanese from the south were finding their way into rooms down the hall. Just after midnight, Talal's became a safehouse for refugees. When I came down into the lobby in the morning, a family of eight sat waiting to check in.

Mostly, they're quiet - I don't speak Arabic, they have no English. Well, one does. An intense young man who constantly invited us throughout the day to take walks, to wander, to talk, to eat - anything to not be alone. We entertained him at first, chatting on the roof for some time. This talk revealed how hostile he was - not just to Americans, but to everyone there. Seeing his stress, the Norwegian offered him a sip of beer. "No," he said "No. Me, I never take a drink in my entire life." "It's never too late to start," - the Norwegian smiles through his eyes.

The Norwegian - a maintenance manager at a secondary school in Norway, probably in his early forties - has proved to be quite handy. He's got lots of gadgets and scissors and such for keeping his belongings tidy. Mostly, he sits on the balcony, sips beer and smokes cigarettes while he offers us information. From him, I've learned how to tell the difference between what's a military boat shelling and what's an airstrike by sound as well as a few other things. He claims to have spent each of his vacations for the past three years here in Beirut. "Will you be back next year?" "Oh, we'll just have to see..."

After noon - even though it was cloudy today - I did what every self respecting American would do in a time of tension: I went to the beach. It was closed. Even the rocky shore along the Corniche where the locals will flock to swim and socialize during the evenings and weekends was entirely deserted. I walked through a few back alleys looking for Casablanca. The doors were locked.

Just now, here's the email from the State Department.

A message to American citizens in Lebanon:

The US Department of State and the US Department of Defense continue working on a plan to help American citizens who wish to depart Lebanon to leave in a secure and orderly manner. To assist in the development of that operation, the U.S. Government is sending an assessment team to Beirut to facilitate the safe departure of Americans who wish to leave.

The Embassy is open and will remain open at this time in support of American citizens in Lebanon. American citizens may register by contacting the Embassy in Beirut directly, or through the State Department's Bureau of Consular Affairs registration site at http://travelregistration.state.gov. For updated information, visit the State Department's Bureau of Consular Affairs website at http://travel.state.gov.

Updated information on travel and security in Lebanon may be obtained from the Department of State by calling 1-888-407-4747 within the United States, or, from overseas, 1-202-501-4444. Additional information, as it becomes available will be released via the media, Embassy warden announcements and on the Department and Embassy websites.

However, many have called or emailed me to say that the US is putting together an evacuation plan, that boats are on the way, that people have been flown in to "assess" the situation, etc.

It's a familiar message...

Too, the Israelis are sending their own messages. On my way back from the shore, I looked up along with the one or two other people roaming the streets when we heard the sound of aircraft. Down the strip, I could hear an uproar and ran to the Phoenicia Intercontinental Hotel to find the streets littered with flyers.

They were from an Israeli airdrop - this is what they look like.

If you can't tell, the cartoon is of the leaders of Iran, Syria and Hamas summoning the leader of Hezbollah. It's an argument of sorts but relatively weak propoganda given Talal's reaction to it (hysterical laughter and mild confusion).

Too, they dropped this warning:

: which, according to Talal, loosely translates to the following: "Don't associate with/help Hezbollah. Cheers, Israel. PS- we're about to bomb you again."

At the scene of the airdrop, I found an ABC news reporter - actually, she found me and asked if I could give an interview. I told her I'd have to ask back home - from what I can tell, my grandparents have no idea what's going on with me and the last way we'd all like them to find out is via ABC World News Tonight. After placing a few "check in" phone calls, I've decided to do it. Too, apparently the ABC news "bunker" (not my term) is understaffed.

Finally, in other, better news. A dog followed the Canadian back to the Hostel. He's in and out, but now officially a welcomed presence:

Also, quote I found. On the side of the Hardrock Cafe, Beirut (which is also closed):