I was in my area of town on the night before Eid, shopping for clothes. The street was bustling and crowded with families, and there actually was a traffic jam, both of which are uncommon scenes in our neighborhood on a typical evening.
The drone of generators scattered on the pavement and loud Lebanese pop music from a nearby CD store filled the air. Youngsters were checking out the girls, and a couple of National Guardsmen were munching pistachios and chatting at a nearby nut stand. The soldier seated behind the machine gun on an army pickup briefly eyed my shopping bag as I was passing by. He frowned as I gave him a quick smirk in response to his suspicious glance.
