Bright green wheat waved in the morning sun as we drove from the border of Syria into the Bakaa Valley in Lebanon. We passed billboards showing women in bathing suits, something never seen in conservative Muslim Syria. Then our driver turned down a lane lined with poplar trees and we came to a modem Italian style building. This was the home of the oldest winery in Lebanon, Chateau Ksara. When we had been able to find wine in Syria, often in the Christian quarter of the larger cities, we drank Ksara. After a tour of the cellars, we went to the modem tasting room to sample wine with young girls dressed in jeans. It was hard to believe that we were still in the Middle East.
But then everything changed. We drove on to Baalbek, home of very impressive Roman ruins, and the militant Shiite group, Hezbollah. The entrance to the town was festooned with banners and huge portraits of Muqtada al-Sadr, the Ayatollah Khomeini and martyrs of Hezbollah. Our hotel, a relic of the French Mandate (1920-1943), was filled with atmosphere, but no one else. There weren't any tourists here, or as we were to discover, in the rest of Lebanon either.
As I wandered alone in the market area of Baalbek I was met with stares, but no real hostility. Then, as I took a photo of a rack of black abayas (cloaks) hanging next to some skimpy Western style dresses, a man called to me and asked if I were "police". I quickly left and that was that. In this conservative town the women wore abayas or long coats and head scarves and teen aged girls covered their heads and wore dresses over long pants and long sleeved shirts. We had seen this in Syria too. There seems to be a resurgence of conservative dress among the women in this part of the Middle East. I went on to the produce market where a kind old man showed me how to eat green almonds. I guess I didn't seem so threatening to him. The blaze of color behind him: red tomatoes, purple eggplant and bright green cucumbers, showed off the bounty of the Bakaa Valley, the bread basket of Lebanon.
The next day we turned south and drove along the coast to the Biblical cities of Sidon and Tyre. We passed checkpoints manned by young men in fatigues and AK 47s. Then we came to the refugee camps which were surrounded by walls topped with barbed wire and guarded by tanks. There are 500,000 Palestinian refugees in seven camps around the country, some of whom have been there since 1948. These two towns, with their Roman ruins, Crusader castles and dark souks (markets) were delightful, but signs of conflict were never far away. As we walked through a large Roman necropolis we saw on the other side of the fence an old refugee camp. From a distance it didn't look so bad since the old two story buildings were separated by trees. It was only when I used my zoom lens that I saw few people and empty windows gazing at me like blank eyes.
In Tyre we were close to the border of Israel and the Palestinian Territories and we saw lots of blue United Nations vans parked by a deserted seaside resort. The UNIFIL troops have guarded this border for years. Along the road there were signs with the symbol of Hezbollah, a machine gun. Near by were posters of two raised hands which are also used by Hezbollah to advertise the humanitarian wing of the organization. This group has done much to help the people repair the damage done during the July 2006 "Israeli Aggression" as the Lebanese call it. The gutted buildings we saw along the way were reminders of this conflict.
Lebanon is a country whose history goes back some 6000 years. From Neolithic to Babylonian, Phoenician, Persian, Hellenistic, Roman, Byzantine, Muslim, Crusader, the Ottoman Empire and finally the French, each civilization left its mark. The boundaries of present day Lebanon were carved out of the Ottoman Empire and what had been "greater Syria" at the end of World War 1. When the government of Lebanon was established in 1946, half of the population was Christian and half Muslim, so the president was to be Christian and the prime minister, Muslim. However, many Christians left during the terrible fifteen year Civil War (1976-1991), and that, combined with a declining birth rate, has left the Christian population with only 30% while the Muslims make up the remaining 70%. Of that, about 30% of the Muslims are Sunni and 30% are Shiite. The government is in such disarray this point that they don't even have a president.
After the Civil War ended, Prime Minister Rafiq Hairiri and his foundation rebuilt the central part of Beirut in hopes of again making it the "Paris of the Middle East" as it had been known in the 1950's and 60's. Apparently tourists were returning until Israeli bombs began to fall on the city in July of 2006. We visited this area late one afternoon and found charming outdoor cafes and attractive buildings -~ut no one in sight except armed soldiers. Nearby Martyrs Square is dominated by a large heroic statue, pockmarked with bullet holes, looking out to sea. Even the frescos in a nearby St. George Cathedral show evidence of gun fire in the church. Because of its location on the green line that separated the Christian and Muslim sections of the city, the National Museum was also heavily damaged during the Civil War, but it has been restored and now proudly displays artifacts from the country's rich history. Around the comer we saw tanks with machine guns guarding a fenced off section of Martyrs Square where families of the "disappeared" have been living in tents since December. They were demanding information about their missing relatives. One day, as we drove out of town, traffic backed up and we saw a backhoe digging up the median strip. A group of people stood watching from the other side of the road and we were told that there was a rumor that some of the "disappeared" had been buried there. The rumor eventually proved to be untrue, but such is life in Beirut today.
We traveled north to the historic cities of Tripoli and Byblos, as well as the Chouf Mountains with its picturesque villages and Mt. Lebanon that overlooks the coast. It is hard to imagine that fighting has taken place in these mountains only a few weeks ago.
How do the Lebanese people cope in such an uncertain envirom-nent, I wondered. With unemployment at 25% jobs are scarce, especially in the tourist sector. Some young
people I talked to were thinking of going to Australia, if they could be assured of a job. Marcelle, our guide, is unmarried so she lives at home with three generations of relatives. She has a sister already living in Australia and her brother may go too. Her parents welcomed us into their home and treated us to ice cream and homemade sweets. Yet, in spite of their outward good humor, we soon saw how the strain of living on the edge can take a toll on older people. Their frustration and anger became obvious as they talked about their future. Yet no one seemed to have any idea about what to do.
If only the blue sky and sparkling ocean that we saw while walking along Beirut's fabled Corniche could blot out the memory of soldiers, guns and barbed wire. The sidewalk was crowded with people enjoying the late afternoon sun and they laughed and talked as they strolled by. There seemed to be a natural optimism about these people that amazed me. I wish I could be optimistic about their future too. But after the events of May 5-13 it is hard to see how all of this will end. We left Beirut less than three weeks before Hezbollah closed the airport in retaliation for the closure of their telecommunications network by the government and gunfire again echoed through the streets of Beirut.
