The Caravan approaches the end of its first month in Beirut: the days have grown shorter, the sea remains tepid, the air warm and close, and the locals even begin to speak of a ‘second summer’. It seems appallingly mismanaged that we have issued only three missives on this blog in that time and that we have to reiterate the apologies which introduced last week’s update. Anyway, apologies aren’t very interesting so let’s get on with what we’ve been up to since our last communication...
Our programme of service at Deir el Qamar and Deir el Salib becomes increasingly second nature. In the case of the girls especially we are now a regular, recognised (and positively received) part of their Monday afternoon. It is, admittedly, exhausting work as we commit ourselves to an (over)active programme of ceaseless volleyball, colouring pictures and, making its debut appearance this week, nail polishing. The girls who sustained this treatment paraded their newly decorated fingers (a seductive brand of Parisian pink), whilst others jealously looked on; their turn will come! The ratio is quite intense: 40 girls to 7 caravanistas, and this accounts mostly for the exhaustion. I keep on making the usual GCSE errors in French as I insist (don’t know why) on addressing each girl as ‘madame’, to which one girl gave (or rather, screamed) the pretty sensible response: ‘Ahh! Je suis mademoiselle! il n’y a pas de madames ici!’ [repeated 10x, as baffled nuns look on].
The main change in dynamic this week was that Nick’s mother and sister were staying in Beirut. They are now hugely impressed witnesses to the work and worth of the Caravan Project. They have visited both the homes at which we work; I took them up to see Sonia (my girl at the camp in Chabrouh) who, for the most part, remains in her bed for the whole day along with many others in their cots. Lydia (sister) found it especially meaningful that they recognise us, shout our names and gain such pleasure from even the most basic interaction. From overwhelming expressions of gratitude and wide-armed hugs through to the last simple, quiet ‘merci’, these are merely an acknowledgement of how valuable our presence is in these homes. Some, of course, cannot even muster a ‘merci’, but then it becomes even more necessary to understand what they are saying inside and perhaps what they wish they could shout out loud. So we send two impressed and admiring visitors back to England. Belinda (mother) simply said: “I am just amazed by all of you and what you do here”.
Our intensive Arabic lessons have now finished and we shift to one lesson a week to keep the language ticking over. Aabla has been a super teacher, delivering three lessons a week up to this point. We have now been introduced to (though few of us have mastered) most of the Arabic letters, have got as far as the past tense of select verbs and I think we know most of the vocabulary for food stuffs (Aabla is very keen to ensure that we can survive the restaurant scenario). Next week university begins and a carefully constructed timetable which covers Middle Eastern socio-politics/religions will begin to unravel.
Kelly Sehnaoui has been especially kind in the past weeks in hosting our ‘film night’ with her fantastic projector: Gosford Park (wonderful piece of English drama with the waspish Maggie Smith at the helm of a superb cast) was much enjoyed, as were the excellent chicken sandwiches and even an interesting pre-film viewing of a Lebanese wedding (Kelly’s elder brother). Very many thanks.
Michel Yanni unleashed the most active part of our programme to date last Saturday with a day of climbing, abseiling and caving up in the mountains, with a nice supper thrown in at the end. Utterly terrifying at times, though the alpha males were happy bunnies, some of the girls less so.
We were all extremely delighted, and moreover lucky, to be able to attend the closing night of Skybar, Beirut’s (indeed the Middle East’s) most popular nightclub. We are greatly indebted to Sheikh Whalid for his characteristic generosity; I don’t think any of us had seen anything quite like it before and the fireworks were astounding.
We have all just this minute returned from a trip with Chamoun (our tireless driver) around the Bekaar Valley, (re)visiting Baalbek, home to the tallest Roman columns, and the best preserved Roman archaeology, in the world and set in an entirely vast, beautiful flood plain (although Baalbek the town is a dump, complete with second-hand ice creams and bad smells), and exploring one of the chief joys of the Bekaar: wine tasting (at Ksara). Stunning views over the valley and Syria in the far distance. A jolly old day, even if the traffic was predictably dire at points.
So back to Deir el Salib tomorrow where we have are currently making such a difference in the ‘small boys room’ (where some of the most severely handicapped, young and near permanently bed-bound cases reside) by playing the guitar and singing: the atmosphere changes completely and one is greeted by those really wonderful, though rare, smiles. Life out here continues to be a really positive balance between uncovering more about Beirut and Lebanon, and working with the boys and girls, from whom we gain so much – and perhaps it is not too much to hope that they gain something from us.
No comments:
Post a Comment