After a few weeks, I gave up on the parties based in the neighborhoods of Bourj Hammoud, Al-Nab’a, Sin el Fil, and all the other miserable districts that floated like islands upon a sea of destruction. The party loyalists had gotten to know me too well, and they began avoiding me after I acquired the reputation of “the madman.” And if it happened that someone fell into my trap, others would quickly step in to protect me and put an end to the quarrel. Indeed, some of them even began treating me kindly. They would give me something to eat or drink and ask how I was doing. Yes, the damn parties had cut off my living, and I was forced to wander elsewhere to ply my trade.

Fortunately for me, the neighborhoods farther out were richer than the cave of Ali Baba, with many entrances, numerous tunnels, and plentiful surprises. Passing through on foot, they never failed to surprise me with the creatures, communities, nationalities, languages, and dialects they contained. Eventually, I had the bright idea—and it shone brighter than the sun—that I should specialize in foreigners and immigrants. Yes, this was a lost flock, with neither Lord nor Master. Among them was no one to question me or offer protection, and I would become the willing victim of whoever wanted it badly enough. They were the majority here, so it made sense that they had the greatest right to me. The result of the experiment confirmed the excellence of my choice, the soundness of my reasoning. For in their beatings I found another meaning, something new and different from the beatings I received from men who shared my skin, who clung so stubbornly to their sects, their parties, and their lairs, like flies wallowing in shit.

To get what I wanted in those neighborhoods, it was enough for me to make fun of their dialect, their language, or their nationality, or just to utter those magic words, “Go back to your own country!” The people there were the most cruel, the most wild, the most ferocious—perhaps because they suffered subjugation at the hands of the entire world. Then it occurred to me to prepare little “gifts” for the worst among them. I would leave things in my pockets or in my wallet, such as a stash of money, a watch, vouchers redeemable at the most exclusive stores. Taking these things would make them think they were not only getting their revenge on me, but also plundering me, just as we were plundering them …