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.
Saturday, July 11, 2009
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.
Thursday, July 9, 2009
Goldfish! Lukewarm Water! Get your goldfish and water!
My dad leaves on Saturday and I want to spend time with him before he leaves. The kids don’t have class today and Friday so I went up to the village today with my dad and cousin. Today, more than any other roadtrip we’ve taken so far, I’ve noticed how rampant child labor is in Lebanon. Well, not exactly child labor. But there are a ton of kids selling goldfish on the streets or cold water bottles or tissue boxes. They zig zag in between cars during traffic trying to make even the most mundane things appealing to some drivers. It’s sad to see that but it’s even more difficult to see kids who are simply beggars. I saw most of them in Saida, the big city south of Beirut.
So here I am at my grandparents’ house. We just came back from a miniroad trip with my cousins. They were showing me some of the villages in the South. It’s unbelievable how different one can be from another. Shaqra is a bustling village, the same exact size as Majdal Selm, but it sits lower in the mountains and seems to have a lot more people. That’s because, my cousin explained, it has a lot of more expatriates, mostly in Kuwait. They all come back all at the same time during the summer. The town looks like Kuwait threw up all over it. From the car, I could tell who was a regular and who was a Kuwaiti expatriate—from makeup, dress, talk, hairstyles, etc. It’s interesting to just sit back and observe a crazy mixed-up Lebanese culture.
Mariam and I are planning on staying up all night to watch the sunrise. I’ve been feeling very dizzy the last few days. Probably from heat exhaustion or dehydration. Oops.
So here I am at my grandparents’ house. We just came back from a miniroad trip with my cousins. They were showing me some of the villages in the South. It’s unbelievable how different one can be from another. Shaqra is a bustling village, the same exact size as Majdal Selm, but it sits lower in the mountains and seems to have a lot more people. That’s because, my cousin explained, it has a lot of more expatriates, mostly in Kuwait. They all come back all at the same time during the summer. The town looks like Kuwait threw up all over it. From the car, I could tell who was a regular and who was a Kuwaiti expatriate—from makeup, dress, talk, hairstyles, etc. It’s interesting to just sit back and observe a crazy mixed-up Lebanese culture.
Mariam and I are planning on staying up all night to watch the sunrise. I’ve been feeling very dizzy the last few days. Probably from heat exhaustion or dehydration. Oops.
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
Schooling and Such
Today was by far my toughest day of work so far. I started out with a pretty stressful morning. The bus driver told me yesterday that he would be at my stop to pick up me and 2 students at 8 AM. I was downstairs at 7:50 this morning and ended up waiting until 8:20. By 8:10 I knew that I most likely missed the bus…I just wasn’t sure why. I hadn’t seen the 2 other kids I usually see either. The bus pulled up eventually and the driver explained that he actually came by pretty early, around 7:45, but I wasn’t there. I’m glad he decided to come back though…even if it was really out of the way.
Today I taught the grade 7 boys first period. They were unusually rowdy today, but I have to say they’re my favorite kids. They’re absolutely adorable and are always so interested. I had second period off so I went down to the playground to go over some curriculum materials for the grade 6 boys and watch some kids play soccer for their gym class. They are quite entertaining running around in their bright orange mesh jerseys. You can definitely feel some ambition to make it to the World Cup up there…all complete with chants and high-fives and victory laps.
During the break I got to know another teacher who is actually related to me…small world. Her grandfather is my grandfather’s brother. I think that makes us relatives. Anyways, she’s only a few years older than me and it was pretty fun talking to someone that shares my blood but I have never seen in my life before. It’s always a really weird circumstance (oh, it’s happened several times this summer), but I definitely enjoyed it!
I taught the girls after the break. I’m usually good when it comes to patience but today was especially tough. There were a handful of girls that simply didn’t show up today and there were even more that weren’t paying attention. I feel like the biggest problem is that we’re only a few years apart so they feel like I’m more of a sister than a teacher. I know I’m no higher power, and I love them to death already…they’re such sweet, fun girls. But it’s been a little frustrating imposing some type of order in the classroom.
The kids taking summer school failed the subject during the school year. There’s a ton of explanations for why they failed—they came from really disadvantaged backgrounds and live literally in the slums. I imagine it’s a little hard to study when there’s no heater or air conditioning or when your parents aren’t especially encouraging you to focus on your education. Some students are orphans. Others have sisters who dropped out of school or college because they met a guy who is making sufficient money to support a family and so they found little use to invest in an education anyways. For this reason, I’m especially sympathetic to the girls. I don’t know, it just makes me so sad that this is a really common trend amongst a lot of the lower socioeconomic classes of Lebanon.
My last class was grade 6 boys. The grade 4 and 5 boys teacher didn’t show up for some reason, so I had to take her class too. So there were a bunch of really, really crazy kids. It was their last period of the day. I couldn’t teach the 6th grade curriculum to the 4/5 boys and the 6 grade boys started to look really bored and really chatty when I went back to the 4/5 curriculum. I don’t really know how I made it through the hour. It was really, really tough.
I went back downstairs to catch the bus, completely exhausted and not in the mood to really talk much. The girl who I met earlier today who’s related to me invited me to lunch, but I had to decline because I’m getting together with my dad this afternoon. It was a really kind gesture of her though and she really seemed like she wanted to get to know me. I’m always up to socializing with long-lost cousins.
I got on the bus with a stack of curriculum materials and sat in the very back with some of the girls who live in the same district. They are always hugging and kissing me…they make the entire day’s pain and exhaustion disappear in a flash. The gym teacher, Hussein, usually rides the bus with me too. Today he asked if I minded if he sat with me. I said no and we started talking. I found out that he too is an American, as in he holds an American passport, but he didn’t live in the US for very long. He studied French in school and he also just finished his first year of college at LIU, but is transferring to LAU in the fall, a much better university.
Alright, update. I’m writing this in the salon at my cousin’s house and we’re watching TV together. I was telling her all of this while I was writing and I found out that she actually knows him. Really, what a small world. I feel like all of Lebanon knows each other and won’t mind having coffee with a stranger because there’s a mutual friend in between, but will strain their lungs if the same person is in the way during rush hour.
My dad was right when he calls Lebanon an “odd country”.
Today I taught the grade 7 boys first period. They were unusually rowdy today, but I have to say they’re my favorite kids. They’re absolutely adorable and are always so interested. I had second period off so I went down to the playground to go over some curriculum materials for the grade 6 boys and watch some kids play soccer for their gym class. They are quite entertaining running around in their bright orange mesh jerseys. You can definitely feel some ambition to make it to the World Cup up there…all complete with chants and high-fives and victory laps.
During the break I got to know another teacher who is actually related to me…small world. Her grandfather is my grandfather’s brother. I think that makes us relatives. Anyways, she’s only a few years older than me and it was pretty fun talking to someone that shares my blood but I have never seen in my life before. It’s always a really weird circumstance (oh, it’s happened several times this summer), but I definitely enjoyed it!
I taught the girls after the break. I’m usually good when it comes to patience but today was especially tough. There were a handful of girls that simply didn’t show up today and there were even more that weren’t paying attention. I feel like the biggest problem is that we’re only a few years apart so they feel like I’m more of a sister than a teacher. I know I’m no higher power, and I love them to death already…they’re such sweet, fun girls. But it’s been a little frustrating imposing some type of order in the classroom.
The kids taking summer school failed the subject during the school year. There’s a ton of explanations for why they failed—they came from really disadvantaged backgrounds and live literally in the slums. I imagine it’s a little hard to study when there’s no heater or air conditioning or when your parents aren’t especially encouraging you to focus on your education. Some students are orphans. Others have sisters who dropped out of school or college because they met a guy who is making sufficient money to support a family and so they found little use to invest in an education anyways. For this reason, I’m especially sympathetic to the girls. I don’t know, it just makes me so sad that this is a really common trend amongst a lot of the lower socioeconomic classes of Lebanon.
My last class was grade 6 boys. The grade 4 and 5 boys teacher didn’t show up for some reason, so I had to take her class too. So there were a bunch of really, really crazy kids. It was their last period of the day. I couldn’t teach the 6th grade curriculum to the 4/5 boys and the 6 grade boys started to look really bored and really chatty when I went back to the 4/5 curriculum. I don’t really know how I made it through the hour. It was really, really tough.
I went back downstairs to catch the bus, completely exhausted and not in the mood to really talk much. The girl who I met earlier today who’s related to me invited me to lunch, but I had to decline because I’m getting together with my dad this afternoon. It was a really kind gesture of her though and she really seemed like she wanted to get to know me. I’m always up to socializing with long-lost cousins.
I got on the bus with a stack of curriculum materials and sat in the very back with some of the girls who live in the same district. They are always hugging and kissing me…they make the entire day’s pain and exhaustion disappear in a flash. The gym teacher, Hussein, usually rides the bus with me too. Today he asked if I minded if he sat with me. I said no and we started talking. I found out that he too is an American, as in he holds an American passport, but he didn’t live in the US for very long. He studied French in school and he also just finished his first year of college at LIU, but is transferring to LAU in the fall, a much better university.
Alright, update. I’m writing this in the salon at my cousin’s house and we’re watching TV together. I was telling her all of this while I was writing and I found out that she actually knows him. Really, what a small world. I feel like all of Lebanon knows each other and won’t mind having coffee with a stranger because there’s a mutual friend in between, but will strain their lungs if the same person is in the way during rush hour.
My dad was right when he calls Lebanon an “odd country”.
Saturday, July 4, 2009
Independence...or not?
I am under so much pressure. The scrutiny and the cynicism and the judgmental attitude of everyone is finally starting to get to me.
I really don’t consider myself a bad Muslim…I know I’m not perfect and I know I’ve had a lot of bumps recently, but I am my harshest critic. I know that as a fact.
It’s not that I don’t accept criticism, it’s just that I’ve never really been through a marathon of criticism like this I just don’t know to deal with this.
The main issue is that I don’t wear hijab. That’s a personal choice of mine. I don’t want to have something imposed on me if I am not fully in grasp of my religion. I’m waiting for that to happen.
It’s different here. It’s standard that you put on the hijab once you’re of age—no questions asked. We could sit here and argue the morality of this all day long but I’m sick of having discussions about that. Bottom line is, I’m not really enjoying the stereotyping of me as the crazy girl with no sense of religion whatsoever.
There are plenty of girls that wear hijab that are good Muslims, and there are plenty of girls who aren’t. Talking smack about other people all the time doesn’t make you a good person, much less a good Muslim, even if you wear the hijab. You can’t do something right and another thing wrong and expect to be fine because you appear to fit the Muslim appearance. It just doesn’t make sense to me.
I’m venting right now because a sheikh was visiting just now and I walked outside to grab something and he made quite a jabbing comment about how I was dressed: I’m wearing a short-sleeved dress that comes down to my shins. I think it’s demure enough. It’s not tight, there is no room for cleavage to show, and I’m not wearing stilettos. In my book, it’s something I can wear with no guilt.
I just don’t understand it. I’m fed up, but at this point, I just don’t care. I want to focus on what I’ll be doing the next four weeks. I was just thinking about this last night. It seems like everyone here acts and dresses and talks and behaves in a way to satisfy everyone else, but themselves. I’m not beingselfish when I say this, but I don’t work that way. My parents and religion have drew the lines in the sand for me and
------ June 7th update -----
I was sitting on the roof when my dad walked in. So I stopped writing and explained to him all of this. It helped talking to more than a computer.
I really don’t consider myself a bad Muslim…I know I’m not perfect and I know I’ve had a lot of bumps recently, but I am my harshest critic. I know that as a fact.
It’s not that I don’t accept criticism, it’s just that I’ve never really been through a marathon of criticism like this I just don’t know to deal with this.
The main issue is that I don’t wear hijab. That’s a personal choice of mine. I don’t want to have something imposed on me if I am not fully in grasp of my religion. I’m waiting for that to happen.
It’s different here. It’s standard that you put on the hijab once you’re of age—no questions asked. We could sit here and argue the morality of this all day long but I’m sick of having discussions about that. Bottom line is, I’m not really enjoying the stereotyping of me as the crazy girl with no sense of religion whatsoever.
There are plenty of girls that wear hijab that are good Muslims, and there are plenty of girls who aren’t. Talking smack about other people all the time doesn’t make you a good person, much less a good Muslim, even if you wear the hijab. You can’t do something right and another thing wrong and expect to be fine because you appear to fit the Muslim appearance. It just doesn’t make sense to me.
I’m venting right now because a sheikh was visiting just now and I walked outside to grab something and he made quite a jabbing comment about how I was dressed: I’m wearing a short-sleeved dress that comes down to my shins. I think it’s demure enough. It’s not tight, there is no room for cleavage to show, and I’m not wearing stilettos. In my book, it’s something I can wear with no guilt.
I just don’t understand it. I’m fed up, but at this point, I just don’t care. I want to focus on what I’ll be doing the next four weeks. I was just thinking about this last night. It seems like everyone here acts and dresses and talks and behaves in a way to satisfy everyone else, but themselves. I’m not beingselfish when I say this, but I don’t work that way. My parents and religion have drew the lines in the sand for me and
------ June 7th update -----
I was sitting on the roof when my dad walked in. So I stopped writing and explained to him all of this. It helped talking to more than a computer.
Friday, July 3, 2009
"I Call This Country and Odd Country"
I’m sitting on top of my grandparents’ house’s roof overlooking all the hills and valleys and mountains of South Lebanon. The wind is strong, but not stinging, and the sun is just perfect. I can spot the Mediterranean Sea from here too. There is nothing like it.
Today I met with Ibrahim, my dad’s cousin who works heavily with the organization that runs the orphanage I will be working at starting Monday. We just went over a few details and chatted over some strong Arabic coffee about the next few weeks in Lebanon. I’m more pumped than ever…I cannot wait until I start Monday!
My cousin Sara has a flat in Beirut where she stays during the school year with her cousins. They all go to the same university but only Sara is taking a summer term, so she’s alone. She’s in the mountains with me now, but since both she and I start Monday, we decided that it would be a good idea to stay with her while I’m working at the orphanage. So it’s just me and her in a flat in Beirut! I was originally going to stay with my aunt but I think this will be a really interesting experience too. I am thrilled!
In other news, I’ve been spending time with all the family that I have, including the ones I never knew. You know the 64 first cousins that I always talk about? I think the number has changed…new babies and new names. I have been so ignorant the last 4 years. Where did all this family come from?!
I cannot stress enough how beautiful the view is from here. I ate lunch at my aunt’s house, a good 15 minute walk from my grandparents’, but with a similar gorgeous view.
The people in the village are really simple, happy people. They don’t complain about much, and they laugh more than any other people I’ve ever met. Life is slow…prayer times basically split up their time during the day. The people here are really hard-working, and the love to kiss and hug a lot. Very touch-feely…I forgot that from my last trip.
Maroon 5 never sounded better from a rooftop in the mountains of Lebanon.
I miss everyone so much…today was the first day where I was actually talking about my friends back home to my cousins in detail. That’s when I realized how far away I am.
It’s definitely been a culture shock…even if I’m Lebanese. The biggest thing is that I don’t wear hijab, the headscarf, so I definitely stick out because virtually everyone else does. It draws some negative attention, but I don’t really care, nor do I take it personally.
I found a Greek language radio station yesterday in the car on the drive up to the mountains in the evening. My dad just shook his head and smiled and said what he’s been saying for the past five days…”I call this country an odd country…it has everything and nothing all at the same time, Asil.”
Peace,
Asil
Other things worth mentioning...
- Sarah’s flat in Beirut
- Beirut traffic the next day
- 9:30 to noon workshop at AUB
- Tala Makhzoumi – Makhzoumi foundation
- UN Habitat
- Marrouche sandwich
- Politics and NGOs
Today I met with Ibrahim, my dad’s cousin who works heavily with the organization that runs the orphanage I will be working at starting Monday. We just went over a few details and chatted over some strong Arabic coffee about the next few weeks in Lebanon. I’m more pumped than ever…I cannot wait until I start Monday!
My cousin Sara has a flat in Beirut where she stays during the school year with her cousins. They all go to the same university but only Sara is taking a summer term, so she’s alone. She’s in the mountains with me now, but since both she and I start Monday, we decided that it would be a good idea to stay with her while I’m working at the orphanage. So it’s just me and her in a flat in Beirut! I was originally going to stay with my aunt but I think this will be a really interesting experience too. I am thrilled!
In other news, I’ve been spending time with all the family that I have, including the ones I never knew. You know the 64 first cousins that I always talk about? I think the number has changed…new babies and new names. I have been so ignorant the last 4 years. Where did all this family come from?!
I cannot stress enough how beautiful the view is from here. I ate lunch at my aunt’s house, a good 15 minute walk from my grandparents’, but with a similar gorgeous view.
The people in the village are really simple, happy people. They don’t complain about much, and they laugh more than any other people I’ve ever met. Life is slow…prayer times basically split up their time during the day. The people here are really hard-working, and the love to kiss and hug a lot. Very touch-feely…I forgot that from my last trip.
Maroon 5 never sounded better from a rooftop in the mountains of Lebanon.
I miss everyone so much…today was the first day where I was actually talking about my friends back home to my cousins in detail. That’s when I realized how far away I am.
It’s definitely been a culture shock…even if I’m Lebanese. The biggest thing is that I don’t wear hijab, the headscarf, so I definitely stick out because virtually everyone else does. It draws some negative attention, but I don’t really care, nor do I take it personally.
I found a Greek language radio station yesterday in the car on the drive up to the mountains in the evening. My dad just shook his head and smiled and said what he’s been saying for the past five days…”I call this country an odd country…it has everything and nothing all at the same time, Asil.”
Peace,
Asil
Other things worth mentioning...
- Sarah’s flat in Beirut
- Beirut traffic the next day
- 9:30 to noon workshop at AUB
- Tala Makhzoumi – Makhzoumi foundation
- UN Habitat
- Marrouche sandwich
- Politics and NGOs
Thursday, July 2, 2009
Tyr and other travels
There is a falafel shop for every mosquito bite on my body.
Yesterday I woke up at the sound of morning adhan (morning call to prayer) and immediately sprang up from bed. Morning adhan is recited around 4 AM. I have no idea what spurred me do that, but I was up and about by 4:30 AM. By 5:15, I was walking around in my pajamas down to the olive tree plantations snapping really beautiful pictures of the sunrise and the village agriculture. They turned out amazing.
My dad and I decided to head to Tyr (Sour) early that morning to beat the heat and to meet with Mr. Rabih, a contact of mine that works for UN Habitat. We did all the Tyr sight-seeing and then met with him. I met a couple of his co-workers and learned more about his project, which is mainly putting his engineering and architecture skills to work in rebuilding Lebanon in a sustainable way. They don’t work much with human development, but they’re looking to start that up soon. His organization is called Beit Bil Jnoub, which means “House in the South” in Arabic.
We spent the rest of the afternoon being beach bums at the Tyr Resthouse.
The next day, I went down to Beirut with my dad at 6:30 in the morning to catch a 9:30 AM meeting at AUB between different NGOs who are working on social and physical development in South Lebanon. It was basically a day-long workshop/dialogue between the different NGOs. I met a ton of really fascinating, important people. Lebanon really has some very intelligent minds, it’s just a matter of carrying out all the great ideas they have. The interesting thing I noticed is that they would all sadly be tempted to talk politics…while I want to say that politics has nothing to do with their plans, I understand that it’s so difficult to carry out all the things they want to do without the support of the government. They all agreed on only one political fact: that their government is simply incompetent.
As the mayor of Bint Jbeil put it bluntly, “Every country that has had to rebuild after a devastating war did not do it with just NGOs…the government rebuilds a country. We cannot do this if our government is in this shape.”
That was bad news, but the good news was that their motivation was something unparalleled. I have never seen anything like it before. It was also really cool meeting a variety of Lebanese—Druze, Catholic, Sunni Muslim, Orthodox Christian—with the same interest of rebuilding South Lebanon, a predominantly Shia Muslim area. It made me happy to see that there was unity in this aspect, but if gave me great grief that regular people could do this but not their so-admired representatives in the Lebanese parliament.
My dad met up with me at the gates of the AUB campus and we grabbed lunch from Al Marrouche, one of my mom’s favorite restaurants in The Hamra district, just a couple of blocks from AUB. We spent the afternoon paying visits to relatives in Beirut, then we headed back to my grandparents’ house in the mountains for the rest of the evening.
We took a different route this time to get to Majdal Selm, thevillage my grandparents’ house is in. This one took us through Al Nabatiye, one of the biggest cities in the South, and through the valley and across the Litani River. It was far more beautiful than any other route I’ve been on so far on this trip. It was then when I realized just how gorgeous Lebanon is.
Peace,
Asil
Yesterday I woke up at the sound of morning adhan (morning call to prayer) and immediately sprang up from bed. Morning adhan is recited around 4 AM. I have no idea what spurred me do that, but I was up and about by 4:30 AM. By 5:15, I was walking around in my pajamas down to the olive tree plantations snapping really beautiful pictures of the sunrise and the village agriculture. They turned out amazing.
My dad and I decided to head to Tyr (Sour) early that morning to beat the heat and to meet with Mr. Rabih, a contact of mine that works for UN Habitat. We did all the Tyr sight-seeing and then met with him. I met a couple of his co-workers and learned more about his project, which is mainly putting his engineering and architecture skills to work in rebuilding Lebanon in a sustainable way. They don’t work much with human development, but they’re looking to start that up soon. His organization is called Beit Bil Jnoub, which means “House in the South” in Arabic.
We spent the rest of the afternoon being beach bums at the Tyr Resthouse.
The next day, I went down to Beirut with my dad at 6:30 in the morning to catch a 9:30 AM meeting at AUB between different NGOs who are working on social and physical development in South Lebanon. It was basically a day-long workshop/dialogue between the different NGOs. I met a ton of really fascinating, important people. Lebanon really has some very intelligent minds, it’s just a matter of carrying out all the great ideas they have. The interesting thing I noticed is that they would all sadly be tempted to talk politics…while I want to say that politics has nothing to do with their plans, I understand that it’s so difficult to carry out all the things they want to do without the support of the government. They all agreed on only one political fact: that their government is simply incompetent.
As the mayor of Bint Jbeil put it bluntly, “Every country that has had to rebuild after a devastating war did not do it with just NGOs…the government rebuilds a country. We cannot do this if our government is in this shape.”
That was bad news, but the good news was that their motivation was something unparalleled. I have never seen anything like it before. It was also really cool meeting a variety of Lebanese—Druze, Catholic, Sunni Muslim, Orthodox Christian—with the same interest of rebuilding South Lebanon, a predominantly Shia Muslim area. It made me happy to see that there was unity in this aspect, but if gave me great grief that regular people could do this but not their so-admired representatives in the Lebanese parliament.
My dad met up with me at the gates of the AUB campus and we grabbed lunch from Al Marrouche, one of my mom’s favorite restaurants in The Hamra district, just a couple of blocks from AUB. We spent the afternoon paying visits to relatives in Beirut, then we headed back to my grandparents’ house in the mountains for the rest of the evening.
We took a different route this time to get to Majdal Selm, thevillage my grandparents’ house is in. This one took us through Al Nabatiye, one of the biggest cities in the South, and through the valley and across the Litani River. It was far more beautiful than any other route I’ve been on so far on this trip. It was then when I realized just how gorgeous Lebanon is.
Peace,
Asil
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)