White Baboon

Beirut, upon first glance, is a Disneyland of dreaminess. There’s Chili’s, Hard Rock Cafe Starbucks, Subway, and this bizarre obsession with retro-style American diners, such as the one you see behind my unhappy husband.Because we want it so badly to be true, we are instant victims–convinced of this burger-oasis between the chicken, hummus and fatoush all around it. At first, as soda-pop-jerk-dressed waiters walk the floor, Cadillac headlights glow across our red-leather booth, and we spot bacon-cheeseburgers and coke-floats on the menu, we are forced to close our mouth and dab a napkin at our drool. But it’s only one bite in, and one exchange with the server when we know we’d been duped.There’s something special about American cattle and exaggerated customer service. And it just doesn’t travel very well.

Shades of Rockwell shine through as a backpacker gets a shave–one of many Middle Eastern grooming traditions for males.

Dorm bed at the Haramain Hotel, a centuries-year old home in Damascus.

Mother and children stroll the gritty souk of Aleppo, Syria on market day.

Well, almost colorless. . .this shabby facade, part Hollywood haunted house and part soda-shop-wafer, was everywhere in Aleppo.