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!