Emperor Elefteriades speaks
Michel Elefteriades - guerrilla fighter, artist, musician - doesn't even consider himself Lebanese, rather the Emperor of Nowheristan, a state with no land and where everyone is welcome. Provided they pass the test. Where do we sign up?
The folks back in the office kept calling you the gypsy, why is that?
It might be the look that I used to have when I came back to Lebanon after my exile, or maybe it's the fact that I don't really have a home country. I'm as much Cuban as I am Lebanese. I'm French in my thoughts and writing. I used to move around a lot, with a plane as my caravan and I just changed countries as soon as I get bored of a place.
And professions I hear; you've been everything from an artist to a guerrilla fighter, really? Have you managed to find yourself?
It's not like that. I've been all those things all the time. When I was fighting with a machine gun in my hand I was still a musician. After the fight, the machine gun was replaced by a guitar. I'm into music, sure, I have had projects lined up for ten years. Music for me is the best way to express my ideas and make money.
And it seems you're passionate about it.
Yes, of course. I inherited that from my father who's a great musician. My mother also plays piano. But it only became a viable career in my late twenties, when there was little else to do. I've wasted a lot of time and only got into politics in my early teens.
And you've held many successful events...
I have. I remember my Wadih al Safi and Jose Fernandez tour was a huge success worldwide. We sold so many albums, it was almost a shock. The press-book was huge. People for and against the combination had a lot to say about it. I love contrasts - in food, in relationships, aesthetics. I love surprises: whores who look like saints and saints who look like whores, bankers who wear earrings and artists who dress up as bankers. A gypsy and a conservative singer is a lovely contrast, and we traveled all around with it. People loved it.
Hit the brakes
Frem's F1 prototype, his first step towards a life-long dream, is set to open the doors for the Lebanese car-making industry and prove that we too can create.
You've been something of a local hero for over a year now, how does it feel?
The first thing you need to understand is that this isn't about me. My pride is that through my achievement, I've helped push Lebanon's image into the international scene. Today someone in America might be reading about the car built in Lebanon. Under impossible conditions, under siege, the Lebanese managed to be constructive.
This is more than just a car then...
It is. My slogan is: ‘only your dreams can build your country.' This isn't an individual's project. I didn't want it to be about my work. My launch was on the highway, with real people around me, not ribbons and politicians. This was built for them, to open the door for Lebanese car-making.
It isn't a normal car anyway, is it?
It's what you call a supercar. The design and aerodynamics are somewhat out of the ordinary, as they should be. This was born of a dream and is meant to give hope. I didn't give it a diminished status, I parked it next to Class A cars, right from the start. The Frem F1 challenges any other car.
Toon out

Right to left: leading minister, services minister, regular minister, governmental minister, citizen.
Armand Homsi has spent the better part of his life speaking out through cartoons. Known mostly for his contributions to An Nahar, he never shies away from speaking his mind.
How long have you been drawing?
I've worked at An Nahar for 13 years and before that I was in France - but I wasn't drawing much there. In the '80s I worked in Commerce du Liban for about four years. I worked there while I was in college and as far as first experiences go it was great. Before that it was the school newspaper, if that really counts.
You didn't draw in France?
In Paris I worked as an interior designer, which is my actual field. I came back because of a competition that An Nahar held - I entered from Paris - and the prize was a job here. I initially started in Nahar el Shabeb but soon moved to An Nahar.
You left Paris for a competition? That's a bit romantic.
It's more that I left Lebanon in a bad way. I left in '89 and that ought to ring a bell. The war had become especially violent then and I had a job opportunity. But at some point I needed to come back, I knew all along I would. It's nice out there, for the first couple of years, a paradise perhaps. A button turns on a light, streets are clean, neat and no one thinks of politics. No one cares about politics. It's a different world but you're never really at ease.
So you're back here, but why drawing?
It's a daily cartoon and it's fun. A lot happens around here and you always have topics. What I usually do, if the headline of the day isn't a good start for an idea, is disregard it. Someone shook someone else's hand, great news, bad cartoon. I try to be close to the news. If the big story is dull, I might use the second best, or something completely different. I keep myself in the loop with news and that's how I can draw. The topics are fun to come up with and they keep me entertained.
Save our souls

Mama Jamale is a surrogate mother to more than 30 children. She has helped two generations of SOS Village children and looks forward to supporting many more.
Translated from its original Arabic.
How many children have you raised to date?
30 [laughs]
Wow, do you remember every one of them?
Are you kidding? Of course! They're still in my life and I still follow their's. Some are married, one in particular got married in the SOS Village. One got married in my parents' house.
What about your current children?
Now I have seven children. The eldest is 16 and the youngest is seven; two boys and five girls. This is just your average family, I often forget that we're part of an organization. There's a large group of people behind the upbringing, it's not just me. In my house it's my job but we let the experts do their jobs.
What's the youngest child you've ever had?
I had a 5-day old girl. She's 18 now and no longer lives with us but is in the studio with the other teens. She still sleeps over sometimes on the weekends and we're in touch all the time. She's my daughter you know. My seven year-old was brought in when she was three months old, my 14 year-old came in when she was ten months old and my eldest was a year and a half old when she was brought in.
Why are they brought in at such a young age?
Social issues. Typically the mother is not there or not available. Most of these kids have families outside and we interfere on the behalf of the children only if the need arises. The families sometimes see their kids once a month and we try to keep some level of communication between them all.
Lords of the dance

Son of Abdel Halim Caracalla, founder and maestro of the Caracalla Dance Theatre, Ivan searches for inspiration all around, and always filters his stories through Caracalla's oriental voice.
When did all the dancing start?
Abdel Halim Caracalla was inspired by the great artists that visited the ancient Baalbek festivals. He traveled around, mainly to France and London, to get the knowledge and discipline. He had a dream to build a dance company in Lebanon, a stretch at the time. People thought he was crazy: a man of that time, from Baalbek no less, who wanted to learn how to dance. He had five or six dancers and our living room was the studio, back in 1968. He'd move the tables at night, I remember. In '78 the troupe went to Osaka to perform, and that's when it all took off, that was the launch of Caracalla.
I know of the Osaka debut, but why launch in Japan?
There was something of a cultural exchange between Lebanon and Japan at the time and the dance was part of an important event. It developed quickly from there, the troupe advanced, its message and style developed. In 1978 the King Hussein of Jordan sponsored the company in Canada, America and Europe and championed our breakthrough into the international spotlight.
How did you manage the King's attention?
We performed ‘Black Tents' in Jordan, and he was in the audience. He saw it was about his ancestors and his people, the Bedouin, and as you know he's a Hashemite. He loved the story and decided this troupe needs backup and international exposure. He gave us just that.
