Beirut—Playground of the Middle East

I am obviously inserting this footprint many years after it actually occurred. The war-riddled history of Beirut after our visit is a series of tragic epics lasting decades, When we visited there in 1971, however, the white sand beaches of Beirut were the playground of the rich and beautiful people not only in Europe, but also in the Middle East. Our lodgings, the Riviera Hotel, was right on the seashore. There was a tunnel under the street, leading to a sandy beach, bath houses and a stone pier. Ike Parker and I just went out to mingle with some teenagers we saw there. He struck up a conversation with a young Egyptian woman our age named Tanya, who was employed by the Middle Eastern oil company Aramco and was vacationing in Beirut. I met a girl named Amal, who had a job as a translator with Peugeot automobiles. Her parents spoke several languages, and she had learned them all. Her father was a translator for the German embassy in Beirut. She spoke English, French, Arabic, Spanish, German and Esperanto. She was attempting to get a job with the United Nations as a translator. Ike and I double-dated with these girls at dinner that night in the dining room of our hotel. Amal and I got on the subject of religion, and she asked several questions about Christianity. I began to ask her about Islam, but she was quick to inform me that she was not a Muslim. She was a member of a Lebanese sect, a Druze. It was fascinating listening to her describe her understanding of her family religion. She suggested that after supper we go to a nearby street called the Hamra where young people hung out at coffee shops, patisseries and bars. We went and had coffee and another dessert. As we were returning to our hotel, we passed the American University in Beirut where night classes were being held. There I saw something I will never forget. It changed my understanding of education forever. Because the night was warm the windows of the classrooms were open to let in the breeze. Just outside the wrought iron fence marking the boundary of the campus, young people sat on the sidewalk straining to overhear the lectures faintly audible from inside the classrooms. In notebooks they feverishly copied what they heard from the professors. These young people were too poor to enroll as students, but were so eager to get an education that they stayed up all night to eavesdrop on the university lectures. I have never forgotten how desperately those Lebanese youth wanted an education and how their intense desire contrasts with that of American students!Weiterlesen