Finding Dulcinea - Part 3: The Encounter

It is the heart that makes a man rich. He is rich according to what he is, not according to what he has. ~ H.W. Beecher

She has been on my mind since that first encounter.  It was also exacerbated by all the nasty replies to my two posts.  I couldn't accept that we, as a Lebanese society, have become as cynical and cold as western societies.  I mean I know we watch their TV/cinematographic media a lot but I am hoping we can still take a step back and say we are NOT like that. We refuse to become like that.  
I left a promising career in the US to come back and live in Beirut because I got sick and tired of being a social security number stuck in a rat race.  Somehow, I never accepted putting a dollar value on human warmth.


Anyway, it was a slow Sunday yesterday, mainly spent with the nephews playing football after all the excitement they had from watching Lionel Messi messin' it up for Man United. I don't recall what professor of mine advised to spend as much time as one can with kids under 7.  I took that advice to heart yesterday.


I decided to spent the evening enjoying Ilham Madfaai's concert in Beirut.  Towards the end of the concert, I spotted her sitting 3 rows down to the right of where I was.  Although it was dark, I knew it was her.  She was with 3 female friends.  There was no doubt in my mind that as soon as this concert is finished I will talk to her again and ask her to have coffee with me.

As the concert ended I walked towards her and said Hi.  She responded politely and I asked her if she remembered our chat about the Secular sign she wasn't allowed to bring into the Solidère area.  She nodded and smiled.
I told her can I talk to you for a second on the side.  She agreed and we stepped out of the way of the exiting crowds.


I said: "Listen, there is no proper introductory way to what I am about to say, so I am just gonna go ahead and say it"
She looked baffled.
I said: "Since that day we had our little exchange and I can't get you out of my mind"
She said: "ouf" and I sensed a minor blush and then said nothing.
I said: "OK, now is the time for you to tell me that you are married with five kids"
She laughed and said: "No... not yet" and I could see an excitement and twinkle in her blue eyes as she smiled and said that "not yet" ... 
That "not yet" sliced though me like a Samurai sword.  It was my clue that I had no right to intrude on her near future life project... 
And instead of asking her to join me for a cup coffee, I just looked her straight in the eyes and said:
"I'm sorry. I didn't know".
She smiled and replied: "No need, I will take it as a nice compliment"
I smiled at her, and wanted to say something about "May you find happiness" but all I said was "Sorry again" and showed her the way back into the exiting crowds as I shielded her from oncoming people.  She went back to her friends. I made my way through the crowd and never looked back...


Driving back home, I surprised myself not feeling disappointed.  I mean that woman stirred something inside me for sure and I acted on that stir and she wasn't available.  My gut feeling decision was that I didn't want to be the "other guy" or something in me clung to the purity of that stir she caused and I knew that pushing things further would amount to major headache.  Heartache I can take I guess, headache? I have more than my fair share at work.
I drove slowly and then it hit me: I am so glad I didn't ask her for her name or her address ... 


Cervantes was right, Quixote never finds Dulcinea ... but the search for mine continues ...

Finding Dulcinea - Part 2: The doubters

 A loving heart is the beginning of all knowledge.  [Thomas Carlyle]

Seems like my first post has gathered some momentum and a journalist/blogger at Now Lebanon has written something about it: Click here to read what she wrote


Here's my reply & comments on her entry:

Dear Angie:
Let me start by saying that I will not call you a "jaded, cynical, cold-hearted bitch", what you think of yourself is your own business.  Now reading your post I sense a general negativity to it and ridicule.  Again I will not argue with you it's your own interpretation.  However, I would like to make a few clarifying points:

1) I never said anything about "emotional intimacy", I know I met her only briefly this year and last year, I never said I am madly in love with her or that she makes my palms sweaty or my knees shaky...All I expressed was an internal (strange) feeling towards another human being and I sensed that that feeling was out of the ordinary because I have never experienced it before in my 34 years on this planet...I don't see the cynical humor in it ...correct me if I am wrong.

2) As for the creepster/stalker label, I beg to differ on both counts.  I felt an attraction towards her and decided to stay around enjoying an internal buzz, I assure you I was not under the spooky influence of Phenylethylamine or any other hormone for that matter, I am just a regular guy who felt strangely attracted to a woman if in this day and age this is considered creepy then I don't know where this world is coming to...
After the march I decided to initiate some kind of excuse to talk to her, again correct me if I am wrong but isn't this how most relationships start? a guy makes the first gesture towards a woman he likes...and what are dates for then if not to further get to know that woman you made a gesture towards? Is this stalking? For crying out loud the woman barely knows I exist if it weren't for that brief 30 second exchange.


Reading your take on the matter made me realize what a "jaded, cynical, cold-hearted" society we have become.  I'm going to ignore it and keep looking for her and will let her be the judge if I am a creep and a stalker.


Finally, may one day true love find you...

Finding Dulcinea - Part 1

I think every man does what he can until his destiny is revealed to him - Japanese Samurai

This is a true ongoing story.  Actually it all started on May 15^th 2011 as I was taking part of the LebLaique march for a Lebanese Secular state.  I arrived at the Ayn Mreissi starting point a bit late so I caught the procession from behind.  As I stepped up to catch the crowd, I noticed her. She was here again this year.  I had seen her in last year’s March and something buzzed big time inside me.  I decided not to act upon it then since my personal life was a tad bit complicated to say the least.

I couldn’t believe that out of probably a thousand marchers that Sunday I would bump into her first (took that as a sign). Needless to say the buzzing from inside went berserk. It was really odd; after all, for a thirty something fellow who’s had more than his fair share of failed relationships and fake love stories, such feelings would immediately be neutralized and recycled into not even the back of the heart but somewhere far less glamorous. 

But I couldn’t help it. This woman has awakened the man inside whom I thought I killed and buried a few years back.  I started walking within the group of people she was walking along with.  I kept internally checking if I would lose interest or probably get extremely offended by something she would say, but nothing of the sort, and the more I was in her surroundings the more the internal buzzing intensified. I wouldn’t categorize it as stomach butterflies, but rather some kind of intense internal tingling effect every time I laid my eyes on her. There was something about her energy, aura, being, call it whatever you want that had me completely drawn to her. It was so odd I was thinking to myself “would you snap out of it already!”

I made up my mind that there is no way she would be leaving this march before I spoke to her and get her coordinates somehow.  So by the end of the march, I stuck around Sami el Solh square and as she was leaving I followed her trying to make up some kind of excuse to talk to her.  She stopped and asked some marchers for a sign they were holding during the day’s festivities.  She took the sign and kept walking towards the Grand Theatro building, as she tried to walk left onto the main walkway of the Parliament area, an army officer stopped her and apparently forbade her from walking onto the heavily guarded area with that sign.  She walked further by BLOM bank vitrine where there was a garbage bin. She tried bending the sign to fit it into the bin; I had caught up with her and said:

• -          “Ana bekheda iza ma baddik yeha”

• -          “Ma 3am bikhallini el 3askareh faweta ma3é 3al maktab” she replied removing her sunglasses, revealing the most penetrating blue eyes I have ever seen.

• -          “Ma fikeh tkouné 3ilmeniyé wou tfouté la jouwa” I said jokingly (still mesmerized by the whole episode and her eyes were not making things easier either)

• -          “Khida inta, bil 2allilé bit rayye7né damiriyan” and she flashed a wonderful smile and walked back towards the army officer.

I stood there thinking “wow she sustained a three sentence conversation wholly in Arabic”. I watched her walk away, completely surrendering to my weakness for Lebanese women who DON’T speak the “Hi, Kifak? Ca va!” language.

Then I realized I didn’t ask her for her name, or what she does or where she works. I walked fast back to the upper entrance of the Parliament area, she had disappeared.

I can’t get her off my mind since.

And I can’t stop thinking about how I let her off without any contact detail.  Damn, she could have been the “one” and I watched her walk away lost in thought and an exquisite internal buzz which I have never experienced.

So during the past four days I’ve been brain storming about how I can find her.  I know I don’t have much to work with but I know this much:

1.  She has chestnut color hair, natural color not dyed. (Couleur Châtaigne)
   
2. Blue eyes
   
3. On that day, she was wearing a black tight biking pants and a white jacket.  She was carrying on her back a red sports bag, I think it was an Adidas (not sure)
   
4. She had 2 silver rings on her left hand; one of them had a purple stone. (I didn’t notice a wedding band – Geez that would be a bummer if she turns out to be married – but hey let’s keep it positive for now)
   
5. All I know is that she works in the protected area of Solidere where the parliament is. So that area stretches from Costa/Blom bank on the upper level facing the Grand Theatro building all the way down to the area past parliament building/Abed Clock area.
   
6. I am speculating that she must have left her bike in the office that day and was returning to get her bike and leave the sign at her desk.

-        

I know it sounds like we are looking for a needle in a haystack, but this is what I have now and I can’t think of anything else to do at this point except going through every office in that area. (Creepy if you ask me. I might be love struck but I am no creep)

So I am thinking why not use the help of the digital population in Lebanon?  I mean if this can get on facebook there might be someone who knows someone who knows someone who might know who she might be.  Twitter can also help.  

Yalla, in this age of faceless materialism and mindless consumerism, I am appealing to your most inner human decency to pass the word around and help me find her. Again she could be the one and I would hate myself if I just lost her through the tiniest crack.

I am no expert in digital media penetration so I am seeking your help in getting this message across. 

PS: please if you somehow know who she is, I kindly ask you to respect her privacy and not use her name publicly.  Just give her the email address of this page.  Maybe she doesn’t want to have anything to do with all this (sweet) mess or again she could be married or in a serious relationship, then the only decent thing to do is to walk away.

Thank you.

Quixote.