hakopais my name in Maori.

If you note the mention of a crackdown by Hafez Al-Assad in 1999 on his brother’s interests in Syria, while also noting the mention of armed clashes in Lattakia, I might perhaps take it a step further to also mention that I was just entering Lattakia by bus while Hafez was aerially-bombing the fuck out of Rifaat’s summer residence.

We were travelling from Damascus to Aleppo when we noticed plumes of smoke rising from not far off, planes swooping rather low, rather unavoidable if muffled booms, and the familiar pop-pop-pop of gunfire. It wasn’t until the next morning that we read in the English-language newspaper that Hafez had made a pre-emptive move against his brother trying to wrest the presidency in a coup.

I mention all this because a certain someone suggested we visit the Hezbollah Theme Park in South Lebanon as part of a week-long stay in Syria around the same time as we’re in Italy for the Venice Biennale next year. South Lebanon is a daytrip from Damascus, so eminently doable. There is however a part of me that questions the wisdom of:

1. Tempting fate in a country I have narrowly missed being caught up in coup reprisals.
2. Tempting fate by entering Lebanon through a Syrian border point.
3. Tempting fate by entering a part of Lebanon that was until recently occupied by Syrian armed forces.
4. Tempting fate by entering a part of Lebanon that was until recently occupied by Syrian armed forces to visit a theme park owned and managed by a known terrorist organisation.
5. Tempting fate by attempting all this with a hebrew first name, ambiguous surname, questionable ethnicity, unknown nationality and all the while in the company of someone who would struggle to blend in with the locals.

Then again, could be fun.