Beirut, the day of the World Cup. A woman walks through the relatively quiet streets – people are indoors watching the game, or going about their domestic business. But there seems to be a disruption in the television signal, as isolated moments of mild chaos on the rooftops evidence. Then the still of the hot summer’s day is torn apart by an air attack – another interruption to be absorbed, another minor irritation Beirutis refuse to allow to quash their spirits.