Thank you, Mr. Mandela.

Thank you for being our teacher, Mr. Mandela.

"do not judge me by my successes, judge me by how many times i fell down and got back up again" Nelson Mandela

I want to mark the passing of a most remarkable and inspirational leader of our time, Nelson Mandela.  1918 - 2013

I heard a story about Mr. Mandela that I'll pass along.  If you have heard it, or know more, please send me an email:

Nelson Mandela was in a hotel room, one in the group of men meeting that day.  An employee of the hotel entered the room to refill the water glasses. Mandela stood up in the middle of the discussion, which brought a stop to the meeting.  In response to the puzzled looks around the table, he explained, "I was taught to stand up when a woman enters the room." 

Holiday Sing!

American University of Beirut (AUB) Choir just completed two concerts following a week of nightly rehearsals; a singer's nirvana. Riikka inspired us to memorize the music, and did we ever!  Here are You Tube samplings of the music, sung by others:  Enjoy!

Imagine the setting:  inside Assembly hall; converted from a stone church... no sheet music... voices raised in joy... magnificence of it all...

What Sweeter Music (John Rutter)  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FwsIo83RWEQ

In the Bleak Midwinter:  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZDU5DVUrJys

Lully Lulla Lullay:  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C6o0amydcLU

Choir People have fun too!
at Reception after our final concert, home of U President:
Friends: Ingrid (swim buddy), Lolita,
Deborah, Fun and Finnish Director Riikka, Nik,
me, Martin

At home of AUB President Peter Doorman (far right) and his wife from Vashon Is, Kathy:
Reception honoring Riikka and choir

I-phones, glasses and voices raised to Riikka and Doormans

Thanksgiving, 2013

Thanksgiving 2013

Home of Deborah and Walid

Polyphonica around the Thanksgiving table

We are in our final week of choir rehearsal, leading up to concerts on Monday and Tuesday nights. After working our respective jobs, and rehearsing Thursday (Thanksgiving) evening, Deborah (originally of the UK) and Walid (of Lebanon) invited us to their flat for a Thanksgiving feast; Lebanese, Brits, Finn, and Americans. It was delightful!

Ladies of Polyphonica!

Men of Polyphonica, Walid, Vartan, Danny, Amir, Ali, Martin

Deborah asked me for a list of traditional American TG foods. She and Walid ordered turkey with stuffing & gravy from Socrate's, mashed potatoes, pink & white striped marshmallow topped sweet potatoes, and green beans.  We added apple crisp, cranberries, wine, an Indian dish / rice, Lebanese spinach-filled mannouche, salad, and other local dishes. It was a glorious feast!  As Walid began carving, I asked him how many turkeys he had carved.  He said this was his first, and attempted to pass me the knife. But I told him I thought he was up to handling the job.  He's a surgeon here at AUH hospital.

After Deborah's pumpkin pie and Walid's cheesecake, we came to the next best part: We all sang! "Lully, Lullah, Ave Maris Stella,  Bleak Midwinter, Riu Riu Chiu, What Sweeter Music" (J Rutter), and "Still Still Still". It was magical evening.

Our director, Rikkaa of Finland: simply Vonderful;
returns to Boulder CO in December.

AUB Assembly Hall; Our rehearsal and performance hall
Organ, used as a kitty condo, is in need of major repairs.

 I am so lucky to be here now, singing and living this life in Beirut.
Love and blessings on you all as this holiday season begins!

Dancing on the Roof

You heard about the bombing of the Iranian Embassy in Beirut, Tuesday?  It happened while we were on a 4th grade overnight trip in Ramlieh, my class and Margaret's.  I was taking pictures of kids during archery, then rock climbing. Peter helped cinch up the climbing harnesses.  "Hands OFF the rope!" Andree repeated, as they used their hands and feet to top the 3 meter tall rock wall.

When we herded this group back into the lodge for lunch, I noticed the TV was on, the scene of a building on fire. "Turn it off," Justin indicated, quietly.  "The Iranian Embassy was bombed 30 minutes ago!" My first question, "Where is the embassy?"  He said it was south of school, at least 2 km away. That sounded pretty close. "We don't want the kids to know."  I dug through the remotes and flipped off the set.

Justin, our school principal, had come along to help chaperone.  He ended up on his cell phone through most of the morning.  He informed us that we would be able to head directly back to school after lunch, arriving as planned, traffic willing. (Traffic is always a travel factor in Beirut.)

We arrived at school to find all after-school activities cancelled / postponed.  Some parents had already come to pick up children.  The children were still unaware of the bombing. Turns out the Iranian embassy is further away, closer to the airport, or about 5-7 km from school, out of hearing range.

Even with life on pause, all but 3 of my kids showed up at school Wednesday, now in-the-know about the bombing. They were stirred up and animated before class, talking about it.  When they entered the room, I let them talk a few minutes, then broke into song:  "The other day, I met a bear!  In tennis shoes, a dandy pair!"  We got into our circle group and the challenging day began.

Friday, in honor of Independence Day, all 3rd, 4th, and 5th graders gathered on the school's rooftop to wave their small Lebanese flags, and sing a flag-waving round of the Lebanese National Anthem, accompanied by the high school band. After that we ate cheese and zaatar mannouche, followed by debke line dancing; noisy and fun.

Two days ago a bomb ripped apart the Iranian Embassy. Today we celebrate Lebanon's 70th birthday, its freedom from French colonial rule in 1943.  This is a country that has withstood more than its share of hard times.  For Lebanon, life will go on.

Changes

Lebanese "Kick your butt" Coffee: photo by Kate

It was with sadness, mixed with anticipation, that I submitted my resignation to ACS yesterday.  It is hard to imagine leaving these deep friendships, from sea to singing, and a country that has captured my heart.  I am living my life fully here, and for this reason I hope to leave without regrets.

I will complete my contract in June, which is months from now; months to spend with friends, children, singing, and swimming, along with shopping and travel.

Meanwhile, I am updating my job search file, all with an eye on new horizons; Africa! India! Asia!  All draw me forward. Looking for new stories to tell. There is so much world to see, so many children to teach. For these reasons, life is good.

Along with big change comes big emptiness.  I have never felt as homesick as I'm feeling right now.

Every day counts

By now you know I love living here.  Beirut has a fascination that lights a spark under my feet.  I walk to school, 15 minutes along the seaside, "The Corniche".  I have made friends with many merchants whom I see every week:  Bassam, the hummos-making magician, Faouzy and Silvana at the Bourgeois where I find ready-made meals and conversation, Hiba at the Nail Spa, Hassam and friends at the pool. Then there's the roasted nuts guy, the A& P shopkeepers who sell me housewares and share political opinions, and Rania at the bank who straightens out the mess ups. There's young Mohammad who runs a rose out to me as I pass his flower shop, and Osama the green grocer who charges me the lowest prices in Beirut.  Of course, at the top of the list are my teaching friends, swimming and singing friends, hiking and concert-going friends. How lucky can I be?

Looking to the north from Harissa.

Margaret and Carolyn at Cirque de Soleil, Beirut

Tracie, Todd, Andre, Phil, and Casey on Mt. Lebanon

Julianne and Cowther on Mt. Lebanon

When Kate came to visit, I think she felt it too; the welcome, the allure, the wonder.  Yes, this is the Middle East, but what a place it is, from Sea to City, to snow covered mountains.  It's all here.  So accessible.  Enchanting.  In Arabic, French, and English. My Cuz Gordon referred to Beirut as, "The halfway house to the Middle East."  This seems true!  There is an amazing blend of cultures here, with several universities in walking distance. It's all about tolerance and communication; East meets West. Last week's marathon said it all; "Run for Peace! Run for Lebanon!"

There is instability. There are religious differences.  Broken buildings and piles of rubble tell a story of devastation and fast change. Maybe because of these things, there is a sense of urgency; a sense that today is all that counts. So you fill up on today, every day.  You savor the friends, the view, the water, the air, the light.  You walk briskly and think about how lucky you are... every day.

This is how I live.  Every day counts.  I am motivated by this intensity that permeates my being.  And I love the people, the broken buildings, the salty water, the walking, and the singing, because I am reminded every day to Live Now.

Sun setting over Beirut from Mt. Lebanon

Moms and Martinis

Saturday evening, November 2, 2013
It was that terrible one year anniversary for Gretchen. Her mother died a year ago, just after Gretchen arrived to teach in Beirut.  It was a car accident, a terrible shock, and further devastating because her father had died of cancer two years before. Gretchen, in her thirties, had expected her mom to be around for years to come. "Isn't that the way it's supposed to be?"

In honor of Gretchen and moms, we decided to have a Celebrate Moms get together at the Moscow Mule; a favorite sports bar in Hamra. Drink of choice?  Martini. Gretchen explained that her mother loved martinis.

Celebrating Our Moms 

Each of us brought something given to us by our mothers. We took turns showing and telling with frequent toasting. Margaret wore her mother's ring, and was glad to have it considering she had 6 siblings to compete with.  Jane told a story about a mother who had a hard time being a mother, who raised 3 daughters on her own, and a father who wasn't around much.

My story was about a mother who loved being with her children, in every way.  Mom was in her last month with cancer, and in her no nonsense way, decided it was time to divvy up the jewelry. She wanted to see us choosing what we wanted; this would make her happy.  As I looked at the table top, I saw many beautiful things, but I didn't see what I wanted most; the two silver bracelets that never left my mother's wrist. She wore them everyday, and the sound of their sweet jangling was "just Mom".  So I went into the bedroom where she was resting.  I sat down beside her, and in the gentlest way I could, said, "Mom, I don't see what I really would like to have most on that table. What I would like to have most is your silver bracelets."  Her response was real surprise, "Carolyn, really?"
"Yes. These would mean the most to me, more than anything else. But I don't want them until later; you need to keep wearing them until then..."  There was some hugging.
I went back to the sitting room couch, watching the Tarheels zip the ball down the court.  I heard mom up, puttering in the kitchen, but didn't pay much attention.  She would get up for water, or a taste of ice cream.  But then she came into the living room and sat next to me.  In her hands were two bracelets, shiny, just polished.  "Here, Carolyn.  I'm so glad you want to have these.  I want you to take them now."  And she fitted them around my wrist. This gesture both touched and broke my heart! You can imagine how I felt; so happy, so sad. I hugged and thanked her, thanked her and hugged her.

Mom's two silver bracelets are on my wrist in Beirut.  She was the original adventurer, and as I hear their metal jangle, I know that Mom is with me all the way.

As for the martinis, just today Margaret asked, "So, Carolyn, how did you like your first martini?"  My answer?
"I liked the second one better..."  

October High!

October was a blur of events.  The high point was Kate's visit!  She arrived in Beirut on Thursday for a 12 day visit.  We had a week to explore and experience this amazing city and country. It's just a 15 minute walk to downtown Beirut from my flat. We visited the Al Amine mosque, former President Hariri's memorial, and enjoyed coffee with pigeons at Place de l'Etoile. We taxied to Harissa, Byblos, and later hired a driver to get us to the Jeita Grotto. We also hopped a tour bus to Baalbek and spent a day among ruins over 2,000 years old. Most surprisingly fun? Our night at Brick having drinks, talking, and eating quesadillas together at the bar.  I'll never forget it.

My daughter was equally amazing.  Her first day here I had to teach, but she went out exploring and shopping of her own.  First to Starbucks for coffee, then up into Hamra area where she bought a dress and necklace. Wow. Not what I expected, but I am so proud of this girl!

To tell you the truth, it was hummos that did it.  Upon her arrival, after a fruitless 3 hour delay at the airport looking for a missing suitcase, we sat down at my kitchen table. I pulled out the pita and Bassam's hummos.  Kate was hooked from her first taste; described it as, "Drop dead delicious!" Well, I couldn't put it better myself.

  

Kate and Carolyn in Beirut

We kept busy those 12 days; traveled by foot and taxi everywhere. I admit that with Kate at my side, I had no trouble flagging a taxi.

It was a mother's dream come true!

Photos: Mountains to Sea

Let's begin at the sea; pictures show where we swim...

 Now, to the mountain top!  Here I am standing at the top of the mountain range separating Beirut on the west, from the Bekaah Valley on the east; Syria beyond that.

 The rest of the gang:

 Mountain top celebration complete with setting sun, wine, and Andree's chocolate fondue!

Please ignore red dates on the photos; all wrong!  should read 24 August, 2013

Swimming and Peace

This morning's swim was lovely.  We met at the railing of the Corniche and climbed down the re-bar ladder to the rocks. From there, selected the dry rocks where we'd leave our clothes and towels.  Ingrid and I have gotten used to being the only females on the rocks.  It is just a 15 min. walk from our high rise flats. We always swim together, and Phil loves the swim too.  We take off t-shirts and shorts, folding them next to our towels, grab goggles, then pick our way, barefooted, to the rocky edge. The deep blue green water rushes up and around our ankles, inviting us in. The water resembles a high tide although we don't see much tidal action in the sea.

Diving into the warm water is absolutely fabulous; refreshing all over.  I find myself smiling as I come up for my first look around.

This morning we try swimming, 3 of us, side by side.  It is a bit awkward at first as Ingrid weaves in front of us, then I plow into Phil.  A group of swimmers coming from the other direction suddenly broke between us. "Bonjour! Sorry!" they yelled, stopping to see that we were all right. "Bonjour! Okay!" we yelled back.  We get better at swimming side by side.

When we reach the marina wall, we stop, float, and talk about how great the water is, the city, the sky.  We love being out in the water, looking back at the city, perfect and clean. 

We start the return trip sighting off the AUB tower, facing a rising sun.  It is always a smoother trip back, moving with the rolling current.

Phil climbs out at the ladder.  Ingrid and I opt for the rocky exit; the mermaid exit.  Water is so high that we literally are "lifted and swept" up onto the rocky ledge, where we stand up and follow a slippery path to the towels. As we are drying off, a group of men to our left offer us hot tea, and pass each of us a steamy plastic cup.  Next come the grapes. After that, walnuts in the shells.  Oh my gosh!  Every sip and taste is delightful.  "Why does food always taste so good after a swim?" muses Phil.  We sip the tea and acknowledge the kindness of these fellow swimmers, feeling a tremendous sense of belonging.  Americans or not, air strike or not, we felt welcomed and comforted.

School Starts Monday!

I checked Breaking News on CNN Monday night, and read John Kerry's urgent plea for quick and punitive response to Al-Assad's criminal use of chemical weapons against civilians.  At school Wednesday there was talk of a US air strike in Syria.  Four US destroyers are in the Med right now, just over the horizon, positioned to send the cruise missiles over our heads and into Damascus.  All they need is the phone call.

I ask, How does this solve the problem of using chemical weapons?  What "lesson" will this teach Al-Assad and his regime? What repercussions could follow?

Lebanon is under extreme pressure with the Syrian Civil War broiling next door.  The war has taken on religious proportions, as Shia Al-Assad opposes the Sunni rebels.  Shia Hezbollah of Lebanon took a stand in favor of Al-Assad, further pressuring the Lebanon, which has been struggling to remain neutral.  The Syrian civil war has crept into Lebanon, as seen in Tripoli, where Shia neighborhoods are targeting Sunni neighborhoods, and vice versa.  We are seeing this situation play itself out in the news every day.

If the US responds with an air strike, I don't understand why.  First, it could further embroil the region.  Second, Americans will no longer be sitting on the sidelines of Syria's war; we will become players.  Third, who are these rebels?  What kind of leadership are they going to promote?  If Al-Assad is assassinated it could unleash turmoil that will be beyond our control.  And who, pray tell, will rise up out of the dust?

Wednesday at school we met as a staff to discuss the possibility of school being postponed, pending the outcome and timing of a US response.  So far the Lebanese Minister of Education has not made any changes to our school schedule.  The air strike response was delayed.

Principals Justin and Bryan dropped into each of our classrooms Thursday to ask "How are you doing?" They wanted to make sure we are okay.  I appreciate how they have been so open with us, even when they don't have answers.

Early Friday morning I met up with Phil and Ingrid for a swim in the Med.  We swam to the marina wall and back, in time for the sun to rise.  As we floated, buoyed up in the salty water, there was a time of silence to throw out prayers and wishes for peace.  That time in the water helped me to let go of fear, and take hold of gratitude.  The way I look at it, every hour that passes without missiles is time for the hot heads to cool off, for REASON to reign, for the best course of action to be found. Having missiles doesn't mean we have to use them. How could we use our power constructively?

Meanwhile, as cousin David and swimmer Krista advised: "Keep your head down!" and I'm doing just that; hunting for sea turtles.

'War-weary' Obama says Syria chemical attack requires response
CNN (blog) – 2 hours ago
He called the Syrian attack a "challenge to the world" 
that threatens U.S. .... "It's important for us to recognize that when over 1,000 people are ... However, last week's attack obliterated the "red line" Obama set just over a .... if military action would be confined to air strikes using cruise missiles, support rises.

 

BBC News

UN   inspectors leave Syria as US weighs 'limited act'
BBC News – 35 minutes ago
Military strikes on Syria 'as early as Thursday,' US officials say
NBCNews.com (blog) – 2 days ago

Looking Back

"This is where it used to be," Phil indicated a modern looking apt building, built on the site of the former US Embassy, the one that was destroyed by Jihadi extremists back in 1983.  63 people died; Americans and Lebanese.  I will be walking past this corner every day on my way to school. It is located on the Corniche, in full view of the Sea.

I felt my stomach tighten, eyes begin to burn, as I passed the white apt building the next day, Monday.  "It happened 30 years ago," Phil said.
"It seems like there should  be a memorial here; something to remember the lives lost."
"If they did that, every street corner would have a memorial on it!" I had to agree with Phil.
That evening, I decided to get into Google and find out what happened.
The suicide bombing of the US Embassy was on April 18, 1983, 30 years ago.  I would have been 30 years old, married, and a new mother. I remembered the photos and news.

I also found what I was looking for: an on line Memorial commemorating the Americans who had died in Lebanon.  The caption read, "They Came In Peace".  The memorial covered Lebanon's war years, 1974 through 1992.  Names were listed sequentially by dates.

In another section I read about what happened to each person who was kidnapped or killed. Names popped out, like Terry Anderson and Terry Waite.  I reached 1983, and scrolled through names of those who died at the US Embassy bombing.  But the list didn't stop at 63, it went on and on and on, all names ending USMC. Then it hit me; the marine barracks were bombed a year later. 241 American soldiers lost their lives.  Scrolling down the list of names was so very sobering.  I had to scroll twice, just to take it all in.  It took a while.

I realized that during this time in Lebanon's history, Americans were targets for the anger of extremist groups. It didn't matter WHO the American was, or WHAT he / she did. It was all about capturing Americans. Why?

Wikipedia:  The original reason for the hostage-taking seems to have been "as insurance against retaliation by the U.S., Syria, or any other force" against Hezbollah, which is thought responsible for the killing of 241 Americans and 58 Frenchmen^[7] in the Marine barracks and embassy bombings in Beirut.

Yes, I knew about the rocky history of Lebanon before I came here, but reading about this again, here, felt very different.

Do I still want to be here?  Yes!  Yes, I want to be here.  If for no other reason than to live the truth that LIFE IS GOOD.  Even in a place that continues to experience so much sadness and violence.  Life goes on, and at heart, 99% MOST people are kind and caring. These are the people I see on the street, in the sea, in the shops, every day.

Sea Turtles!

Saturday, August 24
Has it already been a week?  Been in school with staff 4 days.  One more week to prepare for kids.

Saw a huge sea turtle come up for air after I'd toweled off and dressed from a salty Med swim, Wednesday. Since then have been dreaming of swimming with turtles!  Began my turtle search Thursday and was quickly rewarded. Saw two!  The first time I was so excited I surfaced and announced "Turtle!" to those in the water near me. One guy swam over quickly and but then dove down to grab the turtle, splashing and chasing after it until turtle made his escape. Jerk! I was fuming mad!  Next time I find a turtle, I'm keeping it to myself.

Sure enough, saw my second turtle, a smaller one, a little while later.  He was swimming just a meter below the surface, moving slowly out to sea.  I floated along above him.  His shell was covered with green shaggy algae, barnacles and all.  Then he tilted his head to look up at me. We met eye to eye.  I was very excited, very still, and noticed his beautiful dimpled skin, green/blue and spotted. I followed as he continued to swim slowly away. Wonderful!

More to come! 

First 24 Hours

Beirut, First 24 hours

Thursday, August 15, 2013
Bad news arrives while I am in Chicago Airport: Car bomb explodes in southern Beirut, killing 21, wounding 200+.  This is deadliest attack since I've been in Lebanon. 

Friday, August 16
22 hours later, I land, gratefully, in Beirut.  What was it like that Friday afternoon? Traffic heading out of town was heavy; in-town traffic surprisingly light. Otherwise, normal.  Entered new flat, 7th floor, Ain Mraisseh building, 7 pm. Thankfully Carine (former tenant) left bed made for me.  Leaky toilet left thick red rust in the bowl; startling!  I used the second bathroom (Now have 2 and 1/2 bathrms; Please Come Visit!). Noticed odd water sounds and returned to find the tank had overflowed, water running on the floor. Turned off water, opened the floor drain and used my trusty squeegee to push water out. 

I decided to unpack some boxes and find phone cord.  Discovered the plug-ins are a different size here; weird!  Found adaptors in a bottom drawer (thanks again Carine!).  About then realized I needed drinking water and food.  It was getting dark so I left building and found a tiny grocery. Got water, cereal, apple and labneh (yogurt), just enough to get by, but then my credit card was useless and I was out of cash. The grocer kindly suggested I pay "bokra"/tomorrow.  We had only just met!  Walked back to building and couldn't get key to work in outside door.  Rang for concierge, Abou Hammad, who walked me through the procedure.  Took the ele upstairs and ate my cereal, which tasted mighty good.  Next, found the wifi box and cord, but internet wouldn't work for me. No skype tonight!   

It's strange how one can go from a breezy Seattle 75 degrees, to a stifling hot and humid 90 degree Beirut. I found 3 AC wall units; in living room and bedrooms. Saw my first cockroach as he darted under the fridge, then silverfish squirming on a roll of paper towels which I immediately submerged, roll and all... (AAA!!!), and then smashed an earwig in the bathroom.  Quite a menagerie here, although haven't seen any other critters since... well, time for some sleep.  I ran the AC all night; decided I deserved it.

Saturday, August 17
Next morning finds me turning the corner on my attitude, I must tell you, this 7th floor view is amazing!  I am sitting on my couch looking out at the Med. There it is stretching out blue to forever.  Check my watch: nearly 7 am, but I've been awake since 1.  Time change takes its toll.  I had that feeling again, that feeling I experienced last year of, "Oh My Gosh, What Am I Doing Here?"  The heat, toilets, internet, bugs, and fatigue all contributed.  It got worse as I began to think of my friends last year who are not returning: Lucy, Dennis/Linda, Ryan/Mandy, Susan/Henry. Poor pitiful me!

Then I slapped myself back to present with a shower, a steamy cup of Nescafe, and a phone call to Ziad at school who said a plumber was on his way and gave me the number for Cyberia Internet. These things, and the kindly grocer, reminded me that everything would be ok. I know that the heat won't last forever.  I know that there are great people to meet close by.  I know where the hummus guy and pool are, I know how to get help, and where to shop.  Must text Ingrid about a swim in the Med!  I'm 1000 steps ahead of where I was this time last year.

Now Breathe deeply, go for a Walk, and open your eyes.  It's just the beginning.

Home Sweet Home

July 10, 2013
"Prepare for reverse culture shock!" Marguerite warned.  I admit I was a little worried about "coming home" to the states.  For one thing, I didn't have a house, a bed, or a car.  I would have to depend on friends and family.  Maybe I did all my adjusting ahead of time, for the arrival to Seattle was nothing but gorgeous and delightful: tall green trees, Mt. Rainier, blue sparkling water and skies, clean streets lined with tidy homes. Everything looked great!  It was an easy transition for me.  I was reminded of what drew me to Washington state in the first place.

Reverse culture shock?  I was motivated to cook my first meal after the 30 hour trip for my daughter Kate and her roommate Jenny. The result for me was a night in the bathroom; never felt that sick in Beirut! Afterwards for several days there were stomach-y moments, but that was the only "shock" my system experienced. When I arrived on Whidbey Island, I picked up a rental car and drove nostalgically along the winding roads to Karen and Paul's house in the big woods.  They offered me a place to stay for 3 weeks, my own bedroom and bathroom.  It was perfect!  I rejoined my buddies in the swimming club, and met up with as many old friends as I could.  I  participated in earth friendly activities thanks to Karen, who is a serious composter, line dryer, and recycler. They were installing solar panels as I was there.  All in all, I'm grateful to have such wonderful friends!

Next 3 weeks were in California.  I roosted at my sister's darling little house in Healdsburg.  From her place it's a straight shot into downtown Healdsburg, a large plaza lined with palm trees, including bandstand and water fountain; a beautiful town.  We're swimming with the masters team at Liz's health club.   "That workout was tough, but I enjoyed it," I commented to coach Carol.  Her reply: "If it were easy everyone would be out here doing it!"  She might be right....  Gee but I love swimming.

Currently we are in Bodega Bay, staying in the large house Dad rented.  "We" includes cousin Gordon and Bonnie, Cuz David and Michael, Theo and Dad, Susan and Bro. Jake, Melissa, and Tommy, Sis. Liz, me, and 4 dogs.  We are playing wild 8-handed games of Rummicub, this summer's game!  So fun.  The beach is beautiful and windy, whitecaps stretch to the horizon, but the sun is shining.  Son James buses up from San Francisco tomorrow and I can't wait to see him!

All in all, it's been a marvelous homecoming.  I head back to Beirut for the second year of my contract, teaching grade 4. Yep, I am going back to Beirut with eager anticipation!  My new 2 bedroom flat awaits; looking forward to moving in.  "Then what's next?"  My answer: I don't know. If teaching goes well and Lebanon holds firm against outside pressures, I could opt for a third year in Beirut. Other choices are to search for a new job abroad, or return to South Whidbey and pick up where I left off. Nothing is clear at this time.  It's an open road! 

"Don't cry...

The downside of International teaching and international life?  Friends Move On, We move on.

We said many good-byes at the ACS end-of-year luncheon.  This is an annual event, complete with wine and beer liberally served in the Lower School gym by waiters bearing trays. Well, I needed it.

What caught me by surprise was the realization that 30 people were leaving. A few retiring, but most are heading out for new adventures, to new places in the world.  I was asked to "say a few words for Lucy," my colleague.  I didn't get the email until 2 hours before the lunch... and just figured I'd wing it. But with an hour to go, I knew that wasn't enough.  I wrote my "words," one per sign:  Energetic! - Leader - Friend - and British-American.
Arij, Susan and Sara helped me hold them up.
The Brit-American was last, and supposed to be the funny one...  because I explained how I'd spent a good deal of the year mulling over the question of which nationality was really Lucy. She has dual citizenship, but grew up in Colorado as a kid. She seems much more American than British to me... for example:
She clearly speaks with an east coast American accent = American, right?
She pronounces words like yogurt as /yah-gurt/ and vitamins as /veet-a-meens/ = British.  And she visits her grandparents in England... more British.  I was still rooting for American, but then a new element came along.
Lucy has played with the Lebanese women's football (soccer) team for two years in Beirut, and was their team captain this year. She is the only non-Lebanese player, and dearly loved by coach and teammates.  In fact, they begged her to marry a Lebanese friend so she could play in the Nationals... she declined.

My Lucy conclusion?  She is not only American and not only British (some, I admit), she is also Lebanese.

Last night I spoke with Ingrid about difficult good-byes. Her response: "Carolyn, we lose great people and close friends every year, but you will discover in the Fall, that new people come in, and they fill the empty places.  We welcome them in, we do it every year.  But you keep in touch with those who have moved away, and surprisingly, you see them again.  It is incredible.  Think of it this way; now you have friends all over the world."

Rola shared a quote on email this morning, and it brought tears again, but this time happier ones.

"Don't cry because it's over, smile because it happened." 
Dr. Seuss.
Looking forward to the HELLO'S back home; one week to go.

Beautiful Lebanon II

Deir El Qamar and the Chouf Cedar Reserve
Two places I'll take you when you come visit...
Mountain village Deir El Qamar used to be the the seat of government 400 years ago, before it was moved to Beirut.  This is where our school's outdoor classroom is located, where I took my class for an overnight camp out.  It is also the home of Beit Eddine, the President's summer palace which houses the Mosaic Museum.  We (Lucy, her sister Kate, and I) hired a driver (Bayan, the Debke dancer) who drove us up to the cedar reserve for a hike, about a 2 hour drive south and east of Beirut.

I've been to two sections of the Cedar Reserve, and each time I've been awed by the magnificent trees that are protected there.  Cedar trees were cut years ago and used by early Phoenicians for ship building.  Prized cedar wood was traded to Egypt in return for Aswan's pink granite. Columns of the pink granite were shipped and rolled to construction sites in Lebanon by the Romans.  The granite is still seen in the ruins of Baalbek and Tyre.

Here are some photos of the oldest cedar trees found up in the high mountains.

Lucy and I on a cedar branch big as a tree trunk!

Cedars are slow growing trees.

After a picnic lunch we drove back down to Beit Eddine to see the Mosaic Museum.  It was Kate who wanted to make the stop, and as it turned out, we all loved it.
Beit Eddine:  The President's summer place and home of the Mosaic Museum.

Mosaic Museum is under the cool arches below the palace.

Mosaics were originally used as floors!

I loved the bird and animal mosaics; so lively!

Beautiful Lebanon

After that horrific discussion about sewage and effluent, I decided it is time to show you another side of Lebanon.  Our first stop was the village Hasroun Qnat, the birthplace and Museum dedicated to the life work of Kahil Gibran ("The Prophet").  I was completely moved upon discovering Gibran, the painter, and rooms of paintings depicting human life with its joys and sorrows, from couples, to birth, to old age.  It wasn't what I expected to see or feel.  This is the mountain village as seen from the museum steps.

Hasroun Qnat; Mountain birthplace and Museum for Kahil Gibran

Next, we hiked into the beautiful Qadisha Valley. From the top, we single filed past ancient olive trees, and striped rocks down a steep trail  overlooking the green valley walls.

Qadisha Valley

Hiking down down down the wall of the valley.

Friends: Andrea, Phillippe, New Daddy Ryan, et moi

ruins of an ancient house or ???

Cliffs of Striped rocks

In May, waterfalls cascade down its steep sides and into a wildly racing stream.

Valley floor and its rushing water

Gorgeous Qadisha Valley

I received an unexpected marriage proposal from a Spanish speaking hermit who lives in an ancient sanctuary with its tiny church, high on the side of the valley wall, overlooking the valley.  He moved in 20 years ago and lives a simple life; too simple?

My reply, "I'm sorry, but I've already been there, done that!"

Sea Swim Anyone?

BEIRUT: Flush a toilet in Beirut and the waste water is piped out a kilometer into the Mediterranean and expelled into the sea. Flush the toilet just about anywhere else, however, and the waste is deposited just a few meters away, using the nation’s coastline as a giant toilet bowl.

Read more: http://www.dailystar.com.lb/News/Local-News/2013/Jun-10/219836-lebanons-beaches-swimming-with-waste.ashx#ixzz2W0aSQ8NP
(The Daily Star :: Lebanon News :: http://www.dailystar.com.lb) 

And that's the GOOD news.  Strangely, the rocks we jump from land us in the safest water in the area.  This article is disturbing, to say the least.  The following paragraph was equally troubling, but no surprise:

There are almost no water treatment plants in operation anywhere along the coast. Wastewater from all the major coastal cities is exhausted straight into the sea. Even water from the hinterland goes into the waterways untreated and eventually pollutes the coast.

Read more: http://www.dailystar.com.lb/News/Local-News/2013/Jun-10/219836-lebanons-beaches-swimming-with-waste.ashx#ixzz2W0b3ESHw
(The Daily Star :: Lebanon News :: http://www.dailystar.com.lb) 

Fecal matter is over the top in most swimming areas, except, ironically, in the waters off Beirut, where we swim.  We have a sewage pipe that carries the stuff 1 kilometer out into the Mediterranean before it dumps, leaving the coast area here relatively "clean".

Now for the nitty gritty...
I learned quickly after I arrived that NO PAPER should go down a drain, as in toilet paper.  Waste paper containers are found in all bathrooms to collect used toilet paper. And to think that every flush ends up where the sea turtles roam?  Rather grotesque.  The good news is it dissipates out in the sea, leaving the beaches safer to swim in around here.    

Like so much else in Lebanon, looks are deceptive.  
We have police with their machine guns on corners and loaded in trucks, making the rounds.  But there is very little regulation, not only of water run off / sewage, but of driving or parking.  People double park, triple park on occasion, park on sidewalks, and drive any speed they reach on straight aways. A red signal light means watch out; traffic does not necessarily stop here for red lights.  Pedestrian beware.  Not that drivers are aiming for you, just that a red light means they'll go if there's no one coming from the other direction. 

There are many quirky things that you get used to in Lebanon... so we dance on the buses while drinking, ride in taxis without working seat belts, and marvel at the norm:: cyclists and motorcycle drivers without helmets.

I saw this sight on the highway coming back to Beirut from Tyre.  What do you think?

Five men hanging on to the roof mounts of a smallish sedan.  They were having a great time up there standing up, dancing, and shouting at other drivers....  I couldn't believe it!  
    It's the blessed weekend, 3 school days to go, and I'm meeting Ingrid for an early morning swim!
                                        Nice to know we live in a "clean water area". 

End in Sight!

As I sat at the sidewalk cafe with friend Lucy this evening, found myself gazing out onto Bliss St, wondering how my view of home and my view of Beirut and the world might have changed.  What will stand out for me back on Whidbey Island?  Have I suppressed thoughts / feelings in order to keep facing forward this year?  What will I miss most about Beirut?  What will I be happy to leave behind?  And my grandest question: Where and What is Home?

Deir El Qamar: hike with class under the majestic umbrella pine trees!

First, what will I miss?
Let's go to Massaya Vineyard on Saturday.  I took the spring bus with school friends to the Bekaa Valley and a beautiful repeat of the outdoor meal we enjoyed last fall.  Wine was flowing, food abundant, and the woman at the Sage oven, like an upsidedown wok, was putting out the zaatar and cheese bread pitas as fast as we could eat them.  The trip home on the bus was the same hilarity as Fall; first the wine bottles were opened and passed around.  Bus driver turned up the Dabke music, and the aisle filled with ex-pat dancers; all the way over the mountain and into Beirut.  Open wine bottles, dancing in the aisles, loud music and singing on a bus?  That's Lebanon.

What else?
I walked to my first sandy beach on Sunday to meet up with French swimming buddies. Suyin brought coffee thermos and demi tasse cups for a before swim sip.  There were waves; an unusual sight.  I couldn't wait to get into the water, and right away, made my move to get behind the breakers.  Much as I tried to get Frederique to join me, she couldn't; said later she got too tired.  But there I was, 14 year old Carolyn again, at Huntington Beach, diving under / floating over the waves.  It was exhilarating; the most fun I've had in the waters of Lebanon.  Yes, I was the only woman among men.  Was it my imagination, or were they copying me?  In no time there were 5 or 6 of us floating feet first over the big hills of water, and diving head first under the breakers.  I loved every minute of it. The Mediterranean Sea? The Lebanon I love.

What will I be happy to leave behind?
Minutes after I got home and hung up the wet stuff, Lucy called to tell me that 2 rockets had exploded 7 kilometers away in southern Beirut, in retaliation for the stand Hezbollah has taken in defense of Al-Assad and the Syrian government forces.  Although no one was killed in the attack, it stirred up a pot that seems on the verge of boiling.  What President Suleiman doesn't want is for various factions to take sides in the Syrian conflict, but that's what is happening.  In Tripoli up north, people are asking for relief from nightly shelling in their neighborhoods. People are divided. Whether or not they choose to act on it?  Only time will tell. No one knows the price of war better than the Lebanese.  So far, so good!

On Monday, following day, I suggested we get the permission slips home for next week's field trip. Colleagues Lucy and Arij disagreed.  "It's better to give a few days rest between the weekend attack and our trip announcement, allow time for things to cool off."  I understood their point.  In the fall with the bombing assassination, all approved field trips were cancelled until the "coast was clear."  Anxious parents wouldn't allow their children to go anywhere besides home and school. These things take TIME to sort out.  This is Lebanon too.

So what will stand out for me once I'm back in the states?  I'm guessing that the feeling of peace and safety won't be something I can take for granted. That and fresh air and clean sparkling water will be delightful. Seeing friends and family will mean so much.

And what will I miss about Beirut besides hummus, the Sea, and my new friends here?  Sounds like the subject of another blog!

Bach in Beirut!

This is the Assembly Hall where we sing tonight.
The light is the rosetta leaded glass window reflecting on the  pipe organ;
an amazing sight!  

The walls of Assembly Hall on AUB campus have been bursting with music these past two weeks!  AUB choir with orchestra and soloists are about to perform JSBach's St. John's Passion, less than 4 hours to go; tonight and tomorrow nights.  After our performance tonight, the President of AUB, Peter, and his wife Kathy (from Vashon Island) have invited the entire ensemble to their home for beer and sandwiches. They happen to be choir members too, and sing tenor side by side!

What a great experience this has been!  We began preparing  in September, and are now ready to perform Bach for 2 and a half hours straight. When we met the orchestra 2 nights ago, I felt sheer joy: 2 flutes, viola de gamba, harpsichord, 2 oboes, bassoon, 2 cellos, bass viol, 9 violins, and 3 violas. One tenor soloist, Randall, just arrived from NY and has a wonderful voice, so expressive. Bass Ashraf is here from Boulder, Colorado, and has the power of Pilate!  Alto and Soprano are equally incredible. Alto Megan has been invited to sing with NY Met.  These soloists are beautiful, YOUNG, and fit. It astounds me to see this new generation of opera singers.  I was relieved to see lyrics being projected on the walls, translating the German to English and Arabic for the audience.  And the music?  It's magnificent.  We know our parts, and are ready to bring it to life.  I wish you could be here.  I'm in musical nirvana.

Yalla!  Let's go! on with the show!