We got to Beirut late Sunday night with my uncle Hassan and his family. We visited my aunt Imm Wagdy to say goodbye to her son, Hassan, who lives in Dallas too and spent a couple of weeks in Lebanon visiting family. Then Mariam and I went back home and spent a good 15 minutes trying to open the door to the house. Good thing her parents also came from the village or else we would have been stranded. Monday I called my aunt early in the morning to see what she was up to and to tell her that I delayed my flight one week to spend time with my family and to tie some loose ends for my GO Fellowship. She told me that she is taking the family to a chalet near Saida at a new resort called Jiyeh Marina (the town is called Jiyeh) and that I should come with her. Of course, I couldn’t refuse such an offer! I got my stuff ready and played with my cousins until I decided to go to a music store outside near my uncle’s house to see if I can find a Fairouz collection for my mother. As I was walking out I heard a lot of honking from a car behind me. I thought it was just some crazy Lebanese boys again but when I finally turned around I saw that it was my aunt and her husband, Oussama. They were just calling me as I was walking to the store to come downstairs. I grabbed my stuff from upstairs…everything except the swimsuit (probably the most important thing you can take to a beach resort) because the maid put it in the washer and the washer doesn’t open until the entire cycle is finished.
We drove to my aunt’s house in the Sainte Therese district and I found that all the kids are at the resort with their relatives. I told my aunt that I was going down to a shop across the street called Orca to buy a swimsuit because of my unfortunate circumstances.
I went down to Orca and could barely focus on picking out a swimsuit because the genius manager who runs the store put what we call in Arabic an azaar to manage the swimsuit section (roughly translated as a really harassing young man) who was hitting on me the entire time…typical in Lebanon. Despite my discomfort, I managed to buy a very cute swimsuit that made my 19 year-old self look like I was stuck being 7 years old for the rest of my life.
I came back to my aunt’s flat and helped her pack some stuff for the beach and updated her on a few things that happened since the last time I saw her, mostly about teaching at the orphanage and the last campout that I had with the orphans.
We were finally off to the resort and when we got there I found my cousins excitedly inviting me to swim with them. I quickly changed into my swimsuit and jumped into the pool.
I spent Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday swimming at the pool and beach at the resort and meeting all 5 million of my mom’s relatives, mostly her Uncle Salah’s family. I hung out with Tamara, who is related to me from both sides of the family (her dad is a relatives of my dad and her mom is my mom’s cousin) and smoked argeileh with Salah’s wife and my cousin Seif, who came on Tuesday.
Wednesday evening we headed back to my aunt’s flat in Beirut where I hung out with my cousins until Thursday night, when my uncle picked me up.
Friday I felt like doing a little exploring on my own. I told my cousin that my aunt was coming to pick me up to spend the morning and afternoon with her, but in reality I walked to the Mouawwad and Chiah districts, a good 2 or 3 miles from my uncle’s house. I didn’t really feel tired at all though because I was enjoying being independent and alone for once.
I entered the supermarket in Mouawwad, the one that my cousin and aunt and I always went shopping in when she lived in the Mouawwad district. I have good memories there tasting different varieties of coffee beans and being mesmerized by the sheer volume and variety of cheeses they have in the market. I bought a water bottle for the afternoon and left to my next destination: the Chiah Souk (Chiah Market).
If I told my mom that I went to the Chiah Souk alone, she might die of worry. So, blog, this is only between me and you. I’ll tell her eventually…after I get around telling her that I got hit by a motorcycle. These are all things you don’t tell people over a long distance through a telephone that you can barely hear the other person out of.
The Chiah Souk…man I wish I took more pictures but I was getting some really, really strange looks when I did so I decided against attracting too much attention. I was already attracting some unnecessary attention because of the way I was dressed and the way I looked. Chiah is basically a district of slums full of people below the poverty line, meaning that they live on less than $1 a day.
Speaking of $1…I’m going to digress for a bit because I know I might forget to mention this later.
Last week (my last week teaching at the orphanage) on Monday, I stopped by the little mart below my uncle’s flat in Beirut to buy a surprise for the kids—2 packages of chocolate-filled biscuits. Each one cost me 1,000 LL. I paid approximately $1.30 for both packages—nothing.
Before class I started handing out the biscuits to the kids. At first they were very enthusiastic and excited but then creeped back when one of them saw the price sticker on the package.
“Sister Asil, we can’t…” mumbled one of my students.
I was puzzled.
“What is it? What’s wrong…really, eat! I bought these for you…forget about the rule saying no food in class. Your own teacher is giving you biscuits!” I replied.
“But we don’t eat anything this expensive…we feel really bad. Sister Asil, do you buy biscuits that cost 1,000 LL? I’ve never, ever eaten anything that expensive. The most I can pay for a package of biscuits like this is 500 LL. 1,000 LL is out of the question,” said the boy.
This was my class of grade 6 boys. I couldn’t believe my ears. It was then I realized how rampant poverty was amongst the students at this school.
During the 30 minute break we have every day, I sit with either teachers or students. Personally, I love spending more time with the students but it’s interesting and good to talk with the teachers too. They say things you never hear from students or bring to light some of the hidden ugly aspects of the orphanage. For example, one day when I did sit with the teachers, Katia, another English teachers, was saying that when a student comes to school with ripped shoes or a damaged backpack, the school automatically replaces it for them at the school’s expense. The kids return home to the slums and excitedly tell their parents that they finally got a new pair of shoes which aren’t ripped up or torn or dirty. The parents send the kids back to school with yet another pair of old, torn shoes with the sheer motive of getting yet another pair of brand-new, clean shoes for one of their siblings. This is the extent of poverty in the slums of Lebanon. These people know what to do and how to do it if they want to get something that will benefit them even just a little bit.
Back to my adventure in Chiah…this is not the place to casually take a walk through. I eventually realized you have to be very vigilant in this neighborhood. I got looks and stares that I have never received in my life—not nasty looks, just very, very skeptical facial expressions because it was clear that I was an outsider in my nicely-ironed blouse and my American-made jeans and my clean shoes. Nothing screamed “outsider” more than that.
The last time I came to the souk was 6 years ago. I had no idea where it was or what it was even called but I had a hunch and I followed it. Luckily I was right but unluckily I remember the souk being more charming that it really is for 2 reasons: 1) I was 13 the last time I came and so all the bright, colorful toys and the cheap accessories were my sole focus at the time. I don’t remember the Chiah souk being slum-like at all, and 2) the Chiah souk looked like it was hit pretty hard in the 2006 war between Hezbollah and Israel based on the looks of the houses and buildings around it…which were basically slabs of concrete barely holding themselves up.
I went into the souk with little intention except to maybe find a good gift or argeeleh or some souvenir to take the United States. I quickly realized that this was not a tourist’s souk…there were no souvenir shops or touristy things at all. Half of the souk was housewares and lingerie and vegetables and the other half were fake Ray-Bans and opened packages of makeup and cheap jewellery.
I have a very strong memory of walking into a souk within a souk in the Chiah souk with my aunts Alia and Suad, my mother, and my sister…entering from a tiny doorway on the right side of the street and winding through the tiny, tiny corridors laden with different vendors with pots, pans, necklaces, and sunglasses hanging above you and you rub shoulders with the Chiah inhabitants amidst and cacophony of vendors and buying speaking loudly trying to hear each other’s final bargaining price with a backdrop of Nancy Ajram or Wael Jassar blasting from one of the vendors’ boombox while another vendor is turning up his own Qur’an-on-tape collection from his stereo…it’s difficult to explain in words or at least in a sentence that is not a run-on.
I eventually found winding souk within a souk by accident and was ecstatic to go inside. A cute old lady who was sitting down in her shop excitedly greeted me and invited me to come inside to show me her wares. It was exactly as I remembered it from 6 years ago…how good that memory was surprised me so much. She was selling sunglasses for 5,000 Lebanese Liras, or a little more than $3. These were Ray-Ban original copies and fake Gucci eyeware. These people are creative but they are also very, very desperate for money. Apparently the sunglasses have been going very quickly because when I showed up, much of the rack was bare, as was the case in many other stores.
I zigzagged in and out of the souk within a souk and luckily realized that I ended up on another street that intersects with the souk’s main street. I browsed the rest of the souk and then casually walked up to another intersection and turned right and wandered around the outskirts of the souk. Most of the souk ended at that intersection and then it trinkled into little individually-rented shops and bigger souks under tents selling produce. I went under one of the tents and forgot that the imam had just finished adhan (the call to prayer) so the souk was unusually quiet because everyone and their customers had left to go pray their noon prayers. I snapped a couple of photos very, very cautiously, knowing that I was going to get a few raised eyebrows and stares. I am a tourist in my own motherland much of the time this summer.
I finished looking through the Chiah Souk and continued across the autostrade to the Mouawwad Souk, a bigger and more prestigious and more air-conditioned souk. A lot of the stores beg to be called high-end while others are just like the rest of Beirut stores selling fake merchandise. I went into a classical Lebanese gift shop and got a few gifts for people then decided to call it a day after exploring the rest of the Mouawwad Souk for another hour or so.
I got back home and rested and ate for a bit then went to my aunt Wafaa’s house in Sainte-Therese for tea with my uncle Abbas.
Later that day, Mariam and I went shopping for gifts in my aunt Wafaa’s store’s district. I think the district is called Bir Hassan—I can never remember the name nor how to get there. You have to pass through a million alleyways and odd-looking intersections but it’s neither too far nor too near to the house. I bought a Lebanese flag and several folklore memorabilia from a gift stores as well as gifts for my friends in the states.
Overall, I think I could have covered a marathon’s distance today.
Showing posts with label GO Fellowship. Show all posts
Showing posts with label GO Fellowship. Show all posts
Saturday, August 8, 2009
Sunday, August 2, 2009
Stream of consciousness
Again, so much to do, so little time to write!
Argeileh and watching the sunrise until 6 AM with mariam and zeinab at amu hassan’s house. Bekaa, anjar, shams restaurant, anjar ruins, dabke, mariam’s future husband in the bathroom, hasbaya, chebaa farms, bawabet Fatima, waving hi to all the UN troops, druze, Christians, muslims all in south Lebanon, traffic near aley, listening to umm kalthoum, fairouz and wadi3 al safi the entire trip.
Yay! Until next time!
Argeileh and watching the sunrise until 6 AM with mariam and zeinab at amu hassan’s house. Bekaa, anjar, shams restaurant, anjar ruins, dabke, mariam’s future husband in the bathroom, hasbaya, chebaa farms, bawabet Fatima, waving hi to all the UN troops, druze, Christians, muslims all in south Lebanon, traffic near aley, listening to umm kalthoum, fairouz and wadi3 al safi the entire trip.
Yay! Until next time!
Saturday, August 1, 2009
Ishtirak, autocar, and dukkane!
Good news! I delayed my flight to August 11th because I am just having too much fun here. I am learning so much every single day and now that school is done, I will have time to explore Lebanon (and possibly Syria…more details later!) and see my relatives.
Saturday and Sunday of last week I spent with my aunt Alia and her kids. I got home late Sunday night and was full of energy so I went crazy with my last 3 days of lesson plans. I could not believe that I only had one week left with the kids (I didn’t know I was going to change my flight until last night).
Monday was tiring for me. I didn’t sleep very well the night before because the electricity cut off at midnight. My uncle also has ishtirak, which is like a backup generator, but it can’t support too much power. So if we turn on the air conditioner in Mariam’s room, where we both sleep, the entire system fails and we get no power. It was especially hot Sunday night so I could not fall asleep until around 3.
At school, I got to know Madame Marlene, the French teacher at the summer school. She is originally Palestinian whose ancestors fled Palestine in 1948. We talked a bit and then I somehow convinced her to come camping with us this Thursday and Friday.
Before I got on the autocar (van) Monday morning, I stopped by the dukkane, the small shop to buy the kids a treat. I bought two packages of chocolate biscuits, kind of like Oreos. I got to school and started handing them out in class and they were 1) Surprised that they were allowed to eat in class…and of all people, their own teacher was permitting it, and 2) Extremely shy to take any, but 3) At the same time, very, very eager to eat something special. When they found out that the packages cost me 2,000 Lebanese Liras (about $1.25), they flipped out and immediately felt ashamed that I spent that much on a little snack for them.
Saturday and Sunday of last week I spent with my aunt Alia and her kids. I got home late Sunday night and was full of energy so I went crazy with my last 3 days of lesson plans. I could not believe that I only had one week left with the kids (I didn’t know I was going to change my flight until last night).
Monday was tiring for me. I didn’t sleep very well the night before because the electricity cut off at midnight. My uncle also has ishtirak, which is like a backup generator, but it can’t support too much power. So if we turn on the air conditioner in Mariam’s room, where we both sleep, the entire system fails and we get no power. It was especially hot Sunday night so I could not fall asleep until around 3.
At school, I got to know Madame Marlene, the French teacher at the summer school. She is originally Palestinian whose ancestors fled Palestine in 1948. We talked a bit and then I somehow convinced her to come camping with us this Thursday and Friday.
Before I got on the autocar (van) Monday morning, I stopped by the dukkane, the small shop to buy the kids a treat. I bought two packages of chocolate biscuits, kind of like Oreos. I got to school and started handing them out in class and they were 1) Surprised that they were allowed to eat in class…and of all people, their own teacher was permitting it, and 2) Extremely shy to take any, but 3) At the same time, very, very eager to eat something special. When they found out that the packages cost me 2,000 Lebanese Liras (about $1.25), they flipped out and immediately felt ashamed that I spent that much on a little snack for them.
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Violence and Conversation
Wow, I haven’t written in this in forever. Time passes by so quickly. Tomorrow is the last day of summer school for the kids, and this Thursday and Friday is our last campout. I am really, really upset about the last day of school because it only means I’ll be leaving Lebanon very soon. Next Tuesday night to be exact. I’m not exactly thrilled to leave but I am excited to go back home and see everyone again.
Tomorrow the kids have exams. I think they have learned just as much about America as they have English grammar, but I don’t really mind. I love, love, love these kids. I am really attached to them now. I am almost certain I will cry a river when I say goodbye to them after camp.
Camp last week was pretty good. The girls swam on Thursday. We played handball and football (excuse me, soccer) and messed around in the campgrounds. I was with the 6th grade girls on this trip. They’re a completely different group of people. Sara, Zohoor, Zahra and I were inseparable. Zohoor and Zahra aren’t in summer school but they just come along. We had a lot of fun with Zohoor’s brother, Hussein, whenever we got to see him that is. Hussein is the gym teacher basically. He rides the bus with me and we have become really, really good friends in the last few weeks.
I’m pretty sure dabke is a very popular pastime amongst the girls here. Although dancing is not allowed at the school, we do get around the rules sometimes with the teachers and start doing the traditional Lebanese dance.
The girls and I spent the night again in the Mobarrat school in Jwaya. The next morning I learned that this was actually a renovated version of the old orphanage because the original building had been bombed during the July 2006 war. Luckily, the orphans had been moved somewhere else so there were no casualties. It still hasn’t entered my mind though how anyone could consider an orphanage a legitimate target.
The next day the girls got a mini-tour of South Lebanon. We started with a morning of exercise. The kids woke up at 4:20 AM to pray, fell back asleep until 6, then got up and got ready for a small workout and breakfast of manaeesh and tea. The bus left Jwaya and passed right next to my father’s old town, Majdal Selm. We got to the Sultaniyyeh, the next village over, and I started begging the bus driver to take us to my grandparent’s house. Anyways, we got to Maroun al-Ras, the closest village to the Lebanese-Israeli border. There, Iran had donated money to the Lebanese government to build a resting place that overlooks the border. The view was spectacular and we got some good conversations going about the war and the effect of all the violence on the kids. I learned that a lot more people were displaced that I previously thought. The kids got hit hard. Amal, one of the nicest girls I know at the Mobarrat orphanage, recently moved from another orphanage in south Lebanon.
Words cannot explain the difference. Her father is dead, her mother is working hours and hours every day to provide some type of financial security, and none of her relatives will take her and her brother in to their homes. Her mother was forced to put her in an orphanage because she does not have enough money to support a family at home. Amal said that her mother would bring her biscuits or cookies whenever she would visit. Amal would hide them in her little cubby or closet but would not find them there the next morning. The kids at the orphanage were desperate—not to mention hungry—and not exactly happy. The headmasters would physically abuse them and there were certainly more kids than they could support.
Maroun al-Ras was a nice reflecting place. The sun was warm but the wind was plentiful. There were lots of games and swings and slides for the kids to play on. We went for a drive again after a couple of hours and passed through Bint Al Jbail, a large town in South Lebanon. Finally, we got to Tibnin, where we ate lunch of lahm bi aajeene (meat in bread) and laban (drinkable yogurt). The kids prayed on the grass and played on swingsets and climbed rocks and took walks through the towering snobar trees.
It was camp to camp when I got home. Within half an hour of arriving at my uncle’s house, my aunt Alia came and picked me up so I could spend the weekend with her. It was an amazing weekend…I got to see my cousins Jana, Lynn, and Safa and Marwa, the twins. We spent Saturday at a waterpark called Rio Lento, built in a valley in North Beirut. I couldn’t help but think how much fun the kids would have if they came to this water park. All of my energy and thoughts are towards the orphans now. I am addicted to them. I spent a lot of time with the Kabbanis that weekend, my mom’s side of the family. There was a lot of singing and dancing and argeileh…It’s not wrong to have a little fun :)
Tomorrow the kids have exams. I think they have learned just as much about America as they have English grammar, but I don’t really mind. I love, love, love these kids. I am really attached to them now. I am almost certain I will cry a river when I say goodbye to them after camp.
Camp last week was pretty good. The girls swam on Thursday. We played handball and football (excuse me, soccer) and messed around in the campgrounds. I was with the 6th grade girls on this trip. They’re a completely different group of people. Sara, Zohoor, Zahra and I were inseparable. Zohoor and Zahra aren’t in summer school but they just come along. We had a lot of fun with Zohoor’s brother, Hussein, whenever we got to see him that is. Hussein is the gym teacher basically. He rides the bus with me and we have become really, really good friends in the last few weeks.
I’m pretty sure dabke is a very popular pastime amongst the girls here. Although dancing is not allowed at the school, we do get around the rules sometimes with the teachers and start doing the traditional Lebanese dance.
The girls and I spent the night again in the Mobarrat school in Jwaya. The next morning I learned that this was actually a renovated version of the old orphanage because the original building had been bombed during the July 2006 war. Luckily, the orphans had been moved somewhere else so there were no casualties. It still hasn’t entered my mind though how anyone could consider an orphanage a legitimate target.
The next day the girls got a mini-tour of South Lebanon. We started with a morning of exercise. The kids woke up at 4:20 AM to pray, fell back asleep until 6, then got up and got ready for a small workout and breakfast of manaeesh and tea. The bus left Jwaya and passed right next to my father’s old town, Majdal Selm. We got to the Sultaniyyeh, the next village over, and I started begging the bus driver to take us to my grandparent’s house. Anyways, we got to Maroun al-Ras, the closest village to the Lebanese-Israeli border. There, Iran had donated money to the Lebanese government to build a resting place that overlooks the border. The view was spectacular and we got some good conversations going about the war and the effect of all the violence on the kids. I learned that a lot more people were displaced that I previously thought. The kids got hit hard. Amal, one of the nicest girls I know at the Mobarrat orphanage, recently moved from another orphanage in south Lebanon.
Words cannot explain the difference. Her father is dead, her mother is working hours and hours every day to provide some type of financial security, and none of her relatives will take her and her brother in to their homes. Her mother was forced to put her in an orphanage because she does not have enough money to support a family at home. Amal said that her mother would bring her biscuits or cookies whenever she would visit. Amal would hide them in her little cubby or closet but would not find them there the next morning. The kids at the orphanage were desperate—not to mention hungry—and not exactly happy. The headmasters would physically abuse them and there were certainly more kids than they could support.
Maroun al-Ras was a nice reflecting place. The sun was warm but the wind was plentiful. There were lots of games and swings and slides for the kids to play on. We went for a drive again after a couple of hours and passed through Bint Al Jbail, a large town in South Lebanon. Finally, we got to Tibnin, where we ate lunch of lahm bi aajeene (meat in bread) and laban (drinkable yogurt). The kids prayed on the grass and played on swingsets and climbed rocks and took walks through the towering snobar trees.
It was camp to camp when I got home. Within half an hour of arriving at my uncle’s house, my aunt Alia came and picked me up so I could spend the weekend with her. It was an amazing weekend…I got to see my cousins Jana, Lynn, and Safa and Marwa, the twins. We spent Saturday at a waterpark called Rio Lento, built in a valley in North Beirut. I couldn’t help but think how much fun the kids would have if they came to this water park. All of my energy and thoughts are towards the orphans now. I am addicted to them. I spent a lot of time with the Kabbanis that weekend, my mom’s side of the family. There was a lot of singing and dancing and argeileh…It’s not wrong to have a little fun :)
Sunday, July 19, 2009
Teacher is sick!
It’s 4 pm and I just woke up. We went to the village for a day yesterday to see my grandmother and aunts. So far on this trip, I’ve suffered from dehydration, eczema, and now hypoglycemia. I’ve eaten very, very little since Wednesday night. Zero appetite. Now I just forced myself to eat chicken but when we came back to Beirut this morning I had no energy to stand on my own two feet. It’s really, really bad but I still have little appetite.
I finished grading the kids’ first exams this weekend. Most of them did really well, but there were some near-perfect scores and some horribly failing scores in the same class. And this exam went over the basics. It’s going to be challenging teaching a class with so much diversity of how well the kids understand the language in the first place.
So I spent all of my free time yesterday upgrading my lesson plans accordingly, and adding a few more creative things to curriculum to reach out to those who have just a bit different learning styles. I put in a lot of energy this weekend to fixing this. I really hope the next two weeks go really smoothly. I can’t wait to get back to work tomorrow!
I finished grading the kids’ first exams this weekend. Most of them did really well, but there were some near-perfect scores and some horribly failing scores in the same class. And this exam went over the basics. It’s going to be challenging teaching a class with so much diversity of how well the kids understand the language in the first place.
So I spent all of my free time yesterday upgrading my lesson plans accordingly, and adding a few more creative things to curriculum to reach out to those who have just a bit different learning styles. I put in a lot of energy this weekend to fixing this. I really hope the next two weeks go really smoothly. I can’t wait to get back to work tomorrow!
Friday, July 17, 2009
Retreat!
It’s currently 11:11 AM in Dallas right now and 7:11 PM in Beirut. At 11 this morning I was sitting by the pool with a bunch of my girl students rocking out to Akon and Assi El Helani alike.
I just got back from our first camp retreat with the summer students. This was definitely the most hectic 2 days I’ve had in Lebanon so far. Where do I even start…
I got up at 6:30 in the morning on Thursday to double-check that I have everything and the bus was here by 8. We went to the school first so they could introduce us to our camp leaders and sort us into the buses. I was a camp leader assistant, but I had as little and as much leverage as everyone else.
We thought we would never make it to the campgrounds. One of the school officials passed out from his blood pressure getting too high before we even left the school. He was yelling about something concerning whatever transportation plans they had for us and completely lost consciousness and was on the floor. I was actually getting ready to do CPR on him when he woke from unconsciousness.
By the time we got to Saida, one of my 8th grade boys was hyperventilating. I don’t remember what happened…probably just some bus sickness or claustrophobia. They, too, asked my help for CPR when he lost consciousness but he eventually got up.
We got to the campgrounds and had a mini orientation and then started playing games like handball and soccer. This was when I started learning everyone’s names…finally. We broke for lunch and then the girls went to the beach to swim while the guys stayed behind and did some activities. When I got back, my guys called me over to show off their perfectly made tent. I was ecstatic until my camp leader called all the girls together and told us to make sure we weren’t stalling around with the boys too much. I knew it was directed at me and it bothered me for a bit, but then I forgot about it.
We broke for dinner and prayer. The girls and I started a dabke circle. Dabke is the traditional Lebanese dance—very similar to the Greek dancers that are always stepping side to side and back and forth. It’s really fun and Mariam and I perfected it that night when we attempted to stay up all evening.
The boys slept in the tents while the girls and the little kids drove to Jwaya, about a 20 minute drive from Sour to stay at the orphanage. I have never been inside an orphanage, much less slept overnight there, so it was definitely an experience.
We were woken up at 5 this morning to pray and get ready to go back to the campgrounds. We had a 30 minute workout before we left, which was actually really interesting. I was already in sweats and tennis shoes so I went all-out on my workout.
Jowaya is a beautiful city. The view from the orphanage took my breath away. We took the long way around back to the campgrounds on a military path. It was really, really shaky but it took us through the valley and over some mountains. The view was stunning. It was also the first time I saw lemon and orange groves in Lebanon.
I knew we were near the campground when I saw all the banana trees growing everywhere. It’s quite a sight. We picked up a random watermelon that was growing near the banana grove on the trail up to the campground.
I had completely lost my appetite in the last couple of days because I’ve been sick on and off all week. So even after more than 24 hours with fewer than 10 bites of food, all I could manage to put in my mouth this morning was tea.
We girls spent the morning and early afternoon swimming and laying out. The pool was barely filled but it was really fun anyways. We prayed and ate lunch before the boys came back from their trip to the river and we began to pack up.
A lot of the kids didn’t realize that I live in the states, so most of the time I spent talking was about life in America. The number one question I get asked is, “Which is better, America or Lebanon?” I have no idea how I’m supposed to answer. Lebanon is breathtaking, but you have electricity and hot water 24 hours a day in the states.
I just got back from our first camp retreat with the summer students. This was definitely the most hectic 2 days I’ve had in Lebanon so far. Where do I even start…
I got up at 6:30 in the morning on Thursday to double-check that I have everything and the bus was here by 8. We went to the school first so they could introduce us to our camp leaders and sort us into the buses. I was a camp leader assistant, but I had as little and as much leverage as everyone else.
We thought we would never make it to the campgrounds. One of the school officials passed out from his blood pressure getting too high before we even left the school. He was yelling about something concerning whatever transportation plans they had for us and completely lost consciousness and was on the floor. I was actually getting ready to do CPR on him when he woke from unconsciousness.
By the time we got to Saida, one of my 8th grade boys was hyperventilating. I don’t remember what happened…probably just some bus sickness or claustrophobia. They, too, asked my help for CPR when he lost consciousness but he eventually got up.
We got to the campgrounds and had a mini orientation and then started playing games like handball and soccer. This was when I started learning everyone’s names…finally. We broke for lunch and then the girls went to the beach to swim while the guys stayed behind and did some activities. When I got back, my guys called me over to show off their perfectly made tent. I was ecstatic until my camp leader called all the girls together and told us to make sure we weren’t stalling around with the boys too much. I knew it was directed at me and it bothered me for a bit, but then I forgot about it.
We broke for dinner and prayer. The girls and I started a dabke circle. Dabke is the traditional Lebanese dance—very similar to the Greek dancers that are always stepping side to side and back and forth. It’s really fun and Mariam and I perfected it that night when we attempted to stay up all evening.
The boys slept in the tents while the girls and the little kids drove to Jwaya, about a 20 minute drive from Sour to stay at the orphanage. I have never been inside an orphanage, much less slept overnight there, so it was definitely an experience.
We were woken up at 5 this morning to pray and get ready to go back to the campgrounds. We had a 30 minute workout before we left, which was actually really interesting. I was already in sweats and tennis shoes so I went all-out on my workout.
Jowaya is a beautiful city. The view from the orphanage took my breath away. We took the long way around back to the campgrounds on a military path. It was really, really shaky but it took us through the valley and over some mountains. The view was stunning. It was also the first time I saw lemon and orange groves in Lebanon.
I knew we were near the campground when I saw all the banana trees growing everywhere. It’s quite a sight. We picked up a random watermelon that was growing near the banana grove on the trail up to the campground.
I had completely lost my appetite in the last couple of days because I’ve been sick on and off all week. So even after more than 24 hours with fewer than 10 bites of food, all I could manage to put in my mouth this morning was tea.
We girls spent the morning and early afternoon swimming and laying out. The pool was barely filled but it was really fun anyways. We prayed and ate lunch before the boys came back from their trip to the river and we began to pack up.
A lot of the kids didn’t realize that I live in the states, so most of the time I spent talking was about life in America. The number one question I get asked is, “Which is better, America or Lebanon?” I have no idea how I’m supposed to answer. Lebanon is breathtaking, but you have electricity and hot water 24 hours a day in the states.
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
A List
So much to do, so little time! A list of things I did today:
- Music brings people together -- marta and 50 cent, Eminem, akon, etc etc
- Ethiopia/culture talk over a Russian lunch
- Camp tomorrow
- Verdun
- Went running again for about half an hour
- Music brings people together -- marta and 50 cent, Eminem, akon, etc etc
- Ethiopia/culture talk over a Russian lunch
- Camp tomorrow
- Verdun
- Went running again for about half an hour
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
Running to and away
I am thoroughly exhausted. I’m used to taking a good hour nap when I get home, but today I was too restless to do so. I have so much on my mind.
Today was not as easy as yesterday. As usual, my grade 6 boys were attentive and perfect, but the 7/8 boys were the ones causing the problems today. I think they were a little more excited about camping out on Thursday and Friday than the exam on Wednesday. Anyhow, I reviewed for exams in all of my classes and spent my one hour off sitting in on a grade 6 Arabic class. I’m near-perfect in my speaking of Arabic but definitely not up to the grade 6 level in reading and writing.
Everyone is really, really excited about going camping on Thursday and Friday. Everyone is psyched that I’m going with them.
Alright, update. My 2 year-old cousin just threw a block to my head. Hold up, world. I’m getting some ice.
Hussein and I talked on the bus today again about America. Since he holds an American passport, going back is not a problem. He and a lot of young Lebanese just don’t see much of future here anymore. Well, I’m not sure if they ever did. One of the kids at the bus stop I stand at in the morning came with his dad the other day. I had a brief chat with him and he simply said, “I hate everything that is Lebanon and have to do with Lebanon”. I understand where they’re coming from but I’ve encountered more negative feelings about the country this vacation than during any other year.
Mariam and I went out today to buy a few more scarves for me to wear to school. We visited my aunt on the way there. She owns a small shop in one of the busiest areas of Beirut. Every time I walk into that store there are always a ton of people. Business is good for at least someone in this country.
I went for a one-hour run around 7 this evening and purposely got myself lost. Probably not the smartest idea when you’re running in a developing country, but I’m sure that’s not a surprise if you know me well. The funny thing is that I actually ended up in the district that my aunt used to live in before she moved to Saudi Arabia last year. We used to talk during the war and she would be frightened from all the sights and sounds that were surrounding her. Two buildings away from her was another residential building that used to house a salon called Salon Rafic Youness. The salon’s owner, Rafic Youness died in a bombing during the July 2006 war and the building was hit by a missile. I stopped running to just reminisce in front of that building and look at how far the construction was coming along. I ran a little further east and found that there were a lot of buildings that were still in construction. I had no idea how hard the area had been hit.
Halfway through my run I ran into my cousin. He was stuck in traffic and honked at me repeatedly. I thought it was just another crazy boy trying to get my attention, but it was my own cousin, smack dab in the middle of traffic in the city. We had a good 2 minute chat with he and his wife in traffic. What a small world, really!
Mariam and I stopped by a few cell phone stores to see if it was possible for me to get a cell phone line. There’s nothing cheaper than $50 for about 3 weeks’ worth of minutes. It might be worth it, but there’s a cell phone sitting idly at my uncle’s house. It’s for my grandma, but she never uses it, haha. That might be a good substitute for now.
Today was not as easy as yesterday. As usual, my grade 6 boys were attentive and perfect, but the 7/8 boys were the ones causing the problems today. I think they were a little more excited about camping out on Thursday and Friday than the exam on Wednesday. Anyhow, I reviewed for exams in all of my classes and spent my one hour off sitting in on a grade 6 Arabic class. I’m near-perfect in my speaking of Arabic but definitely not up to the grade 6 level in reading and writing.
Everyone is really, really excited about going camping on Thursday and Friday. Everyone is psyched that I’m going with them.
Alright, update. My 2 year-old cousin just threw a block to my head. Hold up, world. I’m getting some ice.
Hussein and I talked on the bus today again about America. Since he holds an American passport, going back is not a problem. He and a lot of young Lebanese just don’t see much of future here anymore. Well, I’m not sure if they ever did. One of the kids at the bus stop I stand at in the morning came with his dad the other day. I had a brief chat with him and he simply said, “I hate everything that is Lebanon and have to do with Lebanon”. I understand where they’re coming from but I’ve encountered more negative feelings about the country this vacation than during any other year.
Mariam and I went out today to buy a few more scarves for me to wear to school. We visited my aunt on the way there. She owns a small shop in one of the busiest areas of Beirut. Every time I walk into that store there are always a ton of people. Business is good for at least someone in this country.
I went for a one-hour run around 7 this evening and purposely got myself lost. Probably not the smartest idea when you’re running in a developing country, but I’m sure that’s not a surprise if you know me well. The funny thing is that I actually ended up in the district that my aunt used to live in before she moved to Saudi Arabia last year. We used to talk during the war and she would be frightened from all the sights and sounds that were surrounding her. Two buildings away from her was another residential building that used to house a salon called Salon Rafic Youness. The salon’s owner, Rafic Youness died in a bombing during the July 2006 war and the building was hit by a missile. I stopped running to just reminisce in front of that building and look at how far the construction was coming along. I ran a little further east and found that there were a lot of buildings that were still in construction. I had no idea how hard the area had been hit.
Halfway through my run I ran into my cousin. He was stuck in traffic and honked at me repeatedly. I thought it was just another crazy boy trying to get my attention, but it was my own cousin, smack dab in the middle of traffic in the city. We had a good 2 minute chat with he and his wife in traffic. What a small world, really!
Mariam and I stopped by a few cell phone stores to see if it was possible for me to get a cell phone line. There’s nothing cheaper than $50 for about 3 weeks’ worth of minutes. It might be worth it, but there’s a cell phone sitting idly at my uncle’s house. It’s for my grandma, but she never uses it, haha. That might be a good substitute for now.
Monday, July 13, 2009
6 to 6
Today was my best day so far! I woke up at 4 AM to take my asthma medicine (I have to take it at least an hour before I work out), then I fell back asleep until around 5:30. By 6 AM I was out the door and running on the streets of Beirut. I ran for exactly an hour, but I don’t think I was ever confident about where I was going and how I got there. At one point I almost ran straight into a Palestinian refugee camp. Not exactly the best start to your day. Otherwise, I noticed a lot of stuff about Beirut that I’ve never really took note of. What tops the list is that there a lot of Syrians. Americans and Lebanese have the same problem when it comes to low-wage labor. There are a number of Americans living under the poverty line, but few of them may take the low-wage jobs that many Mexican immigrants are taking. The Syrians in Lebanon are equivalent to the Mexicans in the United States. They do the work that nobody wants to do, but that doesn’t help Lebanon’s unemployment level either. It’s a hard dilemma.
Another thing I noticed—there’s a lot more catcalling at 6 AM than at 6 PM.
Last night I meant to pack some cash in case I got lost and needed to take a taxi home. I forgot to do that, so I was less adventurous in my path. I stuck to the main road that lies several blocks west of my uncle’s house.
It seems like the entire world is awake at 6 AM. Really, it’s a spectacular sight. There’s definitely not a lot of women walking around, and there are very few people wandering aimlessly. It’s a sight similar to the streets Times Square, minus the neon lights, with about a third of the people, and with everyone dressed in slacks and dirty dress shirts.
I came home, showered and ate and got ready for another Monday at the orphanage. I did catch the bus this morning and sat next to one of the sweetest students I know, Fatima. She’s not in any of my classes but she lives in the next district over so I always see her. We took pictures in the bus. That’s when I found out that most of the kids have never seen a camera in their life.
When we got to the orphanage, we played with the camera a bit more with some of the other kids, and I realized that most of them have never seen a picture of themselves in their life before, much less have someone take a picture of them. I know I want to fix that before I leave. I’m planning on collecting all of the pictures and maybe presenting the orphanage with a nice book of all the kids’ pictures.
Today was so far the least stressful day of teaching that I’ve had so far. I changed things up today and had my boys write and perform plays in English. I loved the group that performed “Leila and the Wolf”, a spin on Little Miss Riding Hood.
The girls were also unusually attentive today. That’s definitely a surprise to me. For one, some of the more talkative ones were missing. But I think the announcement that they have an exam on Wednesday might have dulled out all of that energy.
Besides that, it was a relaxing day at my uncle’s house again. I spoke to my parents and spent most of the evening going over material for my kids and making their exams for Wednesday.
I watched My Big Fat Greek Wedding before I went to bed. Classic Asil.
Oh, and I was also told by my uncle that he would prefer me to run in the afternoon and not the early morning. I’m not sure why, but I’m not going to argue. He’s the one who’s been living in this neighborhood for years, not me.
Another thing I noticed—there’s a lot more catcalling at 6 AM than at 6 PM.
Last night I meant to pack some cash in case I got lost and needed to take a taxi home. I forgot to do that, so I was less adventurous in my path. I stuck to the main road that lies several blocks west of my uncle’s house.
It seems like the entire world is awake at 6 AM. Really, it’s a spectacular sight. There’s definitely not a lot of women walking around, and there are very few people wandering aimlessly. It’s a sight similar to the streets Times Square, minus the neon lights, with about a third of the people, and with everyone dressed in slacks and dirty dress shirts.
I came home, showered and ate and got ready for another Monday at the orphanage. I did catch the bus this morning and sat next to one of the sweetest students I know, Fatima. She’s not in any of my classes but she lives in the next district over so I always see her. We took pictures in the bus. That’s when I found out that most of the kids have never seen a camera in their life.
When we got to the orphanage, we played with the camera a bit more with some of the other kids, and I realized that most of them have never seen a picture of themselves in their life before, much less have someone take a picture of them. I know I want to fix that before I leave. I’m planning on collecting all of the pictures and maybe presenting the orphanage with a nice book of all the kids’ pictures.
Today was so far the least stressful day of teaching that I’ve had so far. I changed things up today and had my boys write and perform plays in English. I loved the group that performed “Leila and the Wolf”, a spin on Little Miss Riding Hood.
The girls were also unusually attentive today. That’s definitely a surprise to me. For one, some of the more talkative ones were missing. But I think the announcement that they have an exam on Wednesday might have dulled out all of that energy.
Besides that, it was a relaxing day at my uncle’s house again. I spoke to my parents and spent most of the evening going over material for my kids and making their exams for Wednesday.
I watched My Big Fat Greek Wedding before I went to bed. Classic Asil.
Oh, and I was also told by my uncle that he would prefer me to run in the afternoon and not the early morning. I’m not sure why, but I’m not going to argue. He’s the one who’s been living in this neighborhood for years, not me.
Sunday, July 12, 2009
Spasiva, Liban!
Today I spent most of the day making lesson plans, with a trip to Beirut Mall in the late afternoon with the family. I may have forgotten to mention this but I am staying at my cousin Mariam’s house. Her mom is Russian and her dad is Lebanese. They speak Russian almost 90% of the time, so this summer has been a definite culture shock. It’s been 4 years since I visited Lebanon, and regardless, I’ve never spent all my time with her family anyways. It’s been tough…some days I feel like I’m spending the summer in St. Petersburg, not Beirut. It’s an odd mix, but I kinda like it. I’m learning a bit of Russian obviously…
Spasiva = thank you
Kharasho = good
Dobreviche = good evening
Tomorrow I have work again. I’m going to get up early and go for a run around Beirut (well, maybe not all of it…but I’ll see what I can do). I’m really excited…I haven’t worked out for 2 weeks. It’s an awful, awful feeling.
Until 5:45 AM…peace.
Asil
Spasiva = thank you
Kharasho = good
Dobreviche = good evening
Tomorrow I have work again. I’m going to get up early and go for a run around Beirut (well, maybe not all of it…but I’ll see what I can do). I’m really excited…I haven’t worked out for 2 weeks. It’s an awful, awful feeling.
Until 5:45 AM…peace.
Asil
Saturday, July 11, 2009
The First Goodbye
It was really hard seeing my dad say goodbye to my grandmother, given that nobody knows if they’ll ever see each other again. Parkinson’s has taken a big toll on her so this year’s goodbye in particular was extremely difficult for everyone.
I’m in Beirut now and just said goodbye to my father. His flight isn’t until 2 tonight, but the Beirut Airport is always unpredictable. We spent the day saying goodbyes and accompanying my dad who was finishing up some business in the Verdun district and downtown. Mariam and I had a blast in downtown Beirut. We saw a wedding, took a lot of nice pictures, and talked politics and culture. Definitely some quality cousin time.
Tomorrow is a new day. I’m buying a phone line, some scarves to wear to the orphanage, and finishing those lesson plans.
Beirut is beautiful.
I’m in Beirut now and just said goodbye to my father. His flight isn’t until 2 tonight, but the Beirut Airport is always unpredictable. We spent the day saying goodbyes and accompanying my dad who was finishing up some business in the Verdun district and downtown. Mariam and I had a blast in downtown Beirut. We saw a wedding, took a lot of nice pictures, and talked politics and culture. Definitely some quality cousin time.
Tomorrow is a new day. I’m buying a phone line, some scarves to wear to the orphanage, and finishing those lesson plans.
Beirut is beautiful.
Friday, July 10, 2009
Sunrise, Sunrise
Staying up until sunrise didn’t work out too well.
Stayed up until 12, slept until 3, was up with Mariam until 4. We decided to take a 1 hour nap, but we never really woke up from it. Who thought staying up would be so hard?! Part of it was that we didn’t have any electricity and there was minimal power from the generator. It’s pretty frustrating.
Today I tried to make up creative lesson plans for the kids. I hate to be systematic or traditional in anything, especially during a summer school class. I want to add some fun to the curriculum. The trickiest thing is getting the kids to be hands-on. It’s not that they don’t want to be hands on. Oh, no, no. It’s the exact opposite. They want to be a little too hands-on. They’re really funny kids. I love them so much.
They always ask about America. Young, old, everyone in between. It’s really fascinating to actually put into words my experience in the last 18 years. I simply don’t know how to do it. That’s probably the most challenging part.
Tomorrow we leave to Beirut. My dad leaves at 2 AM tomorrow night so I’m spending the day with him.
Stayed up until 12, slept until 3, was up with Mariam until 4. We decided to take a 1 hour nap, but we never really woke up from it. Who thought staying up would be so hard?! Part of it was that we didn’t have any electricity and there was minimal power from the generator. It’s pretty frustrating.
Today I tried to make up creative lesson plans for the kids. I hate to be systematic or traditional in anything, especially during a summer school class. I want to add some fun to the curriculum. The trickiest thing is getting the kids to be hands-on. It’s not that they don’t want to be hands on. Oh, no, no. It’s the exact opposite. They want to be a little too hands-on. They’re really funny kids. I love them so much.
They always ask about America. Young, old, everyone in between. It’s really fascinating to actually put into words my experience in the last 18 years. I simply don’t know how to do it. That’s probably the most challenging part.
Tomorrow we leave to Beirut. My dad leaves at 2 AM tomorrow night so I’m spending the day with him.
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