Girls Got Limits where you can find more stories and photos of his life's journey.
Days of Rage In South Beirut by Julio Pardo.
When I was in Damascus, I heard that Hezbollah got to bring down the government of Lebanon so they will stop the investigations of Rafik Hariri’s death. Beirut was already on my to do list and to be honest, I never thought it will be a big deal. This is not the first time Lebanon was run with out a government and I didn’t think people would go nuts and rage around.
Well, I was wrong. I got there a day and a half before the riots, Days Of Rage as they like to call them, and everything looked like a dream land. Shit was mad expensive, rich ladies walking around in skirts, hot weather and I was kinda feeling the glamorous vibe of Beirut.
I slept for a bit and since everybody told me about the riots, I cancelled my trip to the ruins and decided to go South Beirut to see the protest. Shit was hell on earth, but everyone was quite friendly with foreigners. There were tons of people taking pictures, but at some point these two men in black coats grab me and ask me to walk with them. They show me their guns and I’m like “ok, sure you win”. They take me to a corner and sat me down on a bench. They asked me why I was taking pictures and what was I doing in Beirut. At that point, I realized they were not police or military, but Hezbollah secret agents. I played as smooth as I could, I showed them my passport and all my stamps. I told them I travel and take pictures, nothing more, no newspapers, no nothing. One of them got down to look me in the eyes and goes “listen, if you are Mossad you better tell me now, before its too late”. I’m like “no man, I’m Spanish, I like football, sleeping and eating, that’s about it”. They say they need to take my film which included the rolls from yesterday, the one of the protest and even the one that was not even used. I tried to convince them to give them back so I could have them developed tomorrow and bring them somewhere and they can keep my passport until I show them the pictures. They said if I want them, I have to go with them for questioning. I have heard about those “Hezbollah questionings” and how you could be detained for up to two weeks with no civil rights. I gave them the film and walked out of there. It took me forever to get back to the hostel because there were tires on fire on every street.
Around 3pm, I’m back, changed cameras and film and decided to walk to the National Museum. I already checked online to make sure they were open. It's was about a 20 minute walk, so it felt like a doable plan. When I’m about three blocks away from the square I saw that it was surrounded by military and they stop me. I’m like “really? Again?”, the man goes “go to hotel now, this dangerous.” I’m like “look I just wanna go the museum which is right behind you.” He tells me "it’s closed, go back home". I know he is bullshiting me, so I try to go around it. Five minutes later, a military truck stops in front of me and to my surprise it is the same man again and he says “hotel now!”. I’m like “my hotel is that way man.” He ask me the name of my hotel and I’m like “touché asshole”, you win I’m out. Everything was closed and at night the same thing. Luckily I was leaving next day to Amman and decided to be positive about the adventure. I’m alive and well and this just means I’ll have to come back to Beirut again which isn’t a bad thing at all.