Don't get me wrong; I love Spaniards. They are sultry, cheery, and great fun. Plus I understand them when they speak. But my heart has moved on to these fascinating types called the Lebanese. Oye, es que, in San Sebastian, I spent the majority of my time hanging out with Europeans (Erasmus), which had its good sides and its bad sides. Good: how awesome they all are. Bad: how I lacked one-on-one time with Spaniards. SO, arriving in Beirut, I decided to do as much interacting as possible with the people here. Granted that's limited, because I'm surrounded in the SINARC swarm (they're great too). But I am putting more effort into talking to people and learning the language.
So here's a couple notes on my experience with Lebanese people (half Lebanese included; there's plenty in SINARC).
1. They stare, but don't do more than that. I'd stare too, if I wasn't used to a certain kind of person (but living in LA, I suppose, gets you accustomed to anything). I wear clothes that show my pale knees, and have long gold hair, and I can see men checking me out from their reflections in shop windows as I pass them. Oh, well. Look, don't touch, and I won't react.
2. They gossip. I can't tell you how many times I've walked into the room and heard story's about so-and-so's daughter-in-law who did such-and-such with your best friend's cousin. Samir, the building owner, is always telling stories about how his children should have listened to him better. Dr. Mimi Jeha, the in-four-places-at-once program director, keeps alluding to times when some student decided to wander off while at the grotto excursion and split his head open, so don't do that, or how Samir should really keep better track of who lives in which room, in case of emergencies, but don't tell him she said that.
3. They are overly polite and gregarious. I'm about the most blunt person you'll ever meet (blunt meaning brutally honest), and chit-chat bothers me, so sometimes this aspect of their mindset and I don't mesh. It's required, when you pass someone you know, to at least exchange a few words: "Kiifik? (How are you) Hamdulillah. (Fine, thanks be to Go) Ma Salemi! (See you later)" The hard core Lebanese, to each other, also inquire as to your health, your family's health, your job, and sometimes invite you to coffee when you've said you're in a hurry. I feel a little awkward going into rooms where they expect me to address them, but where I clearly just want to get in/do my thing/get out. Like at the gym, or passing Samir as I go to school.
4. They smile. I derive endless energy from people who make the effort to show my presence pleases them. To every single Lebanese I have met, or even come across randomly, I get the impression I am being listened to (though not agreed with, sometimes) and that they see God in me. Why can't my own peeps be this pleasant?
That's all on that subject for now. Shout out to my Jenny N, who's having a rough time. Thinking of you. Also to Godfather Jim, if you're reading this. I'm okay, me oyes? No te preocupes!
This program is exhausting. This language is exhausting. There's no end to the amount of studying I need to do to understand even slightly what my professor is talking about. But, as Sister Mary Beth Ingham once told me, "You're tired? Good! That means you're living to the fullest." There's no other way to do it, sadeekatee (my friends).
Tomorrow, excursions to Byblos and Jeita Grotto (see pictures), one of the Seven Natural Wonders of the World. Heather-ana Jones returns.
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