A few days ago, I hailed a servis from Geitawe to Raouche. As we were inching through traffic towards my destination–– after the other passengers had disembarked ––the driver began to ask me the usual questions:
Are you married?
To a Lebanese?
What religion does your husband belong to?
Nothing? No. I mean, is he Muslim or Christian?
Not Muslim, not Christian. Nothing.
No he must be Christian or Muslim.
He doesn’t believe in God.
No, its impossible. He doesn't believe in God?
No. I don’t either.
You don't either? You must believe in God. You will be more satisfied. You must! You must!
As I reached into my wallet to pay him for the 45-minute journey across town, he refused payment with a plea to save my soul. I got out of the cab and left my godless wad of thousand lira bills on the back seat.