Monday, May 3, 2010
It feels good writing to you again. It’s been a long time.
We’re in the new apartment, but more importantly, I spent two weeks in Lebanon and got stuck for 4 extra days because of the ash cloud. You all know about the ash cloud, I presume? More about that later…
I’m home safe and there’s so much to tell you, I don’t know where to begin. I’ve been holding off writing to you because I don’t know what to tell you. I’m scared I can’t capture the last month for you on paper, in mere words and pictures. After a week of procrastination I’m finally sitting down in faith, trusting the words will come.
I went to Lebanon with a group of six people, brought together by a relief organization based here in Geneva. The primary purpose of our trip to Lebanon was to observe the relief efforts already happening by native Lebanese and see how we can assist, both while we were there for 9 days as well as form an ongoing, long distance relationship in the future. The relief efforts are various. Among many projects, the Christians in Lebanon are distributing food and clothing to war refugees and seekers of religious asylum, praying with these people, encouraging them, attempting to bring a smile.
They also distribute clothing to gypsy camps. My favorite photo came from one of these camps. I’m touched by the way this brother cares for his little sister.
Brother and baby sister is my favorite photo of the trip.
My favorite “moment,” was at the end of a house visit. We took a box of food to a house full of Iraqi refugees. We visited, played with the children, drank strong Arabic coffee and listened to the adults tell us their escape story. Towards the end of the visit the oldest woman of the group, perhaps in her fifties, was in tears as she spoke of her son. I can’t remember whether the son was missing or in jail or what, but he was a victim of the war. That much I gathered from the translator. All I know is that my heart went out to her. The leader of our group suggested we pray before we leave. We all stood up and I went over to her to hold her hand while we prayed. This prompted our leader to suggest we all join hands in prayer. Realize this… we were with a family of dedicated, practicing Muslims. The woman I held hands with was in a full hijab head dress. I don’t know about you, but I never expected that a Muslim would be willing to pray with a Christian. Especially not the men. But they did. We stood there and my French/British friend prayed for the group. He prayed in English and a child snickered (unused to prayer in another language) and was swiftly and quietly reprimanded by his mother, who told him to show respect.
My cultural assumptions were cast aside right and left.
The following two photos are of us shopping and preparing the food boxes for house visits.
I went to Lebanon with several head scarves in my luggage expecting to wear them every day. As it turns out, Lebanon has quite a bit of religious freedom compared to surrounding countries in the Middle East. The only time we needed to wear a head scarf was when we entered a mosque as a tourist.
We had time for several educational and tourist-y things.
On a Sunday, we toured the great Cedars of Lebanon, noted in Isaiah and Amos for their strength and height.
Overall the trip was unforgettable, a spectacular experience, a true adventure and success. But I wouldn’t be in keeping with the spirit of this blog if I didn’t share with you my less than glorious moments.
Please meet the Lebanese Rooster…
These roosters are EVERYWHERE. And they make their rooster calls ALL DAY LONG and ALL NIGHT!!! We’re not just talking about one mentally disabled bird, we’re talking about a country FULL of them. I’m thinking they take shifts so they can take turns sleeping. They are in the city as well as the country. During the first part of the trip we were in a small village in the country. We were inconvenienced, but not completely surprised by the presence of roosters out there. Fortunately, some of us had earplugs and wore them to get a decent night’s sleep. Nonetheless, all of us would have been thrilled to kill one of those roosters if we could have justified it.
I’m thankful for God’s mercy when we are weak. I used to think that the children of Israel complaining about eating the same food (manna) for 40 days in a row was a pathetic story full of people of miserable character. I regret to admit that after eating pita, parsley and hummus for 7 days, I was very tired of it and was looking for every opportunity to have ANYTHING other than these ingredients. It didn’t matter to me what kind of food, just something different. At the start of the trip I was eager to experience Lebanese food and it was, indeed, delicious. But any delicious thing, after repeating it morning, noon and night becomes more difficult to appreciate. Perhaps I’m a spoiled, pathetic and ungrateful person. And perhaps I should have more compassion for the wandering children of Israel.
On the other hand, Richard and I never tired of this little fruit, pictured below. We pulled it directly off the trees and ate it everywhere we went. We asked as many people as possible, but never learned the English translation for its name. We suspect there is no translation because we don’t think this fruit exists anywhere else. It’s like a very large version of a yellow cherry, but different. Tangy and sweet.
Finally, we must speak of the ash cloud.
I suppose everyone has heard of the Volcano that irrupted in Iceland and shut down all airports in Europe. We were unable to fly to Geneva on the scheduled day and had to wait indefinitely. Those were the longest and most difficult days of the trip. At the beginning of the trip I was advised to go with an attitude of flexibility. I figured I was pro at flexibility. My flexibility was not truly tested even once during the first 9 days we were in Lebanon, during the time we were “supposed” to be there. Each day I had no clue what the agenda was, but I was along for the ride and a happy, adventuresome camper. It was at the end of the trip, when I was tired and ready to go home that my flexibility was tested. When I learned that the airports were closed and we didn’t know when we could return, I went back to my room and cried my eyes out. I wanted to go home to see my husband and I wanted to go now. It was a claustrophobic feeling to be stuck in the Middle East. It’s not like being stuck in the U.S. or even in Europe where you can rent a car and simply drive home. Driving through certain Middle Eastern countries is not an option.
After 4 days our travel agent found us a flight to Rome, which opened before Geneva. We flew to Rome, spent a night there and took a train to Geneva the next day. In the end, it was a little gift from God. Rome was magical and the train ride from Rome to Geneva is surreal. The Alps surround Geneva and I see them all the time, but the most beautiful view of the Alps I’ve seen yet swept past us at 300 kilometers per hour through northern Italy. I can’t wait to go back with Chris.
By far, the most treasured thing I will take away with me from this trip is the friendships that formed between us travelers.
During the first part of the trip we were in an empty house in a country village, sleeping on mattresses on the floor. We didn’t have hot water and we were truly roughing it together. During the second part of the trip, we were given separate rooms and our own hot showers at a Catholic Convent/Retreat Center. It was good timing. We were tired and these creature comforts were welcome. But we didn’t readily welcome being separated into private rooms with locks. How can I describe to you the bond that forms between friends, way outside their comfort zone, on a journey of discovery together? How can I describe the laughter and the joy? I can’t. It’s something you just have to experience for yourself.
There is so much more I could say about my time in Lebanon. Perhaps you have questions and this will give me an idea of where to go with my next blog post.
One last thing before I go….. We made a new friend in Lebanon. He was our tour guide the first 4 days. He showed us the cedars and the refugee homes. He said a very dear thing to me. He said, “Kara, I see your family in your face.”
I’ve never heard anyone say such an odd thing, but I told him those words mean a lot to me. I live much farther away from my family than I prefer and it means a lot to know that they are somehow with me in spirit.
My father took a trip to several foreign countries in 1988. I was 10. He was gone 2 months and came back with many stories which stayed with me for a lifetime. I know his trip and his experience played a part in my inspiration to go to Lebanon.
Please pray for the ongoing work in Lebanon. Pray for the believers who live there day in and day out, year after year, and are present and faithful even when conflicts and wars break out. We were there during a time of relative peace. But Lebanon has a long and recent history of conflicts.
Pray for the refugees who are in Lebanon right now, seeking refuge from many corners of the Middle East.
Pray for me as I launch a project to raise money for Lebanon. Inshallah, (God willing) I will paint the more beautiful aspects of Lebanon (poppies and waterfalls) and sell these paintings to raise money for refugees and others in need.
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3 comments:
That man is interesting indeed: the one who said, "I see your family in your face." Would you say he's living on the "edge", as you have sometimes told me? ;)
Living without modern conveniences does make them so much more enjoyable when you return to them. Also, I'm glad that you're using your native talents to raise money for work in Lebanon.
Thank you sweetie! This blog is such a treat after being on a forced diet from easy communication.
I love your line,
"My cultural assumptions were cast aside left and right." Whoosh. Boom.
Grateful that the Lord granted your dream of many years. May He bless your hands as you paint for Inshallah.
Kyle loved his birthday gift.
Love, Mom
I think it is really beautiful to see an example of life experience contributing to your art. I talk with friends who are musicians about the balance between practicing your brains out and having no life, and allowing yourself to be a whole person so that you have something unique to say when you approach your musical work. Most of us agree that it is the richness of life that gives us something to share, and it isn't something that can be gained by merely working yourself to death in your field. I am inspired that you are using the experiences and images of Lebanon to infuse your artistry with new life.
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