There's less "adventure" to report as we are settling into our routines. I'll spend a bit of time describing the kids routines and then give some updates on our activities.
The kids are adapting to their new life here. Our youngest son, as was his practice in Albuquerque, is glued to a best friend to such an extent that he ignores everyone else around him. We don't get much feedback on his day, but we can tell that he's learning. He has begun to spell new words and he is also sounding out English words he sees on signs. We can also tell that he's learning Arabic, although he doesn't give much indication of how much he knows. The other day we heard him singing "happy birthday" in Arabic.
Our older son is doing really well. He's made some friends at school and has had two play-dates. He's also on a school soccer team and scored a goal during the first game. Although he doesn't have advanced soccer skills, he's fast and can control the ball. At school he is very conscious of economic class differences. After returning from one friends' penthouse suite, his first words to us were, "He is so rich!" He has described teams of servants and chauffeurs at his friends' houses. He's also very cognizant of the Ethiopian maids (all of his friends have maids) with whom he says he has quick and quite conversations about his own Ethiopian status.
I can't imagine how complex this move all seems to my kids; not only are they in a new society and culture, but they are also encountering new questions about their adoptions and race. They are regularly asked why they have white parents. Our older son brushes off the questions, and doesn't seem interested. Our younger son, who has not articulated many thoughts about his adoption, will usually respond with a discussion about how his family's skin colors are different varieties of brown. While some of the questions seem abrupt and annoying, there doesn't seem to be any judgement behind the questions and the kids haven't expressed any displeasure about them. But, there do seem to be more questions about adoptions.
We are meeting new people and getting used to new patterns of daily life. An AUB colleague of mine invited our family over to dinner at his house. Dinner began after 8pm. This "early" time was a concession to us. This is all to say that the Lebanese day extends far beyond our own. We usually have the kids in bed by 8:00 so that we can more easily heard them to school by 7:30 am the next day (and this is still a difficult task). I have no doubt that we are missing 90% of the scene in Beirut because we are asleep by 11pm. Kelly and I went out to dinner a week ago and we were the only people in the restaurant (at 7pm). We asked if we could get the early-bird special (as an homage to my Palm Beach County, Florida retirement community roots).
Over the weekend we rented a car and drove to the Bekaa valley. For those who haven't been here before, Lebanon is a tiny country whose geography, moving from West to East, is marked by the Mediterranean Sea, the Shuf mountains, the Bekaa valley, and the anti-Lebanon mountain range that borders Syria. The drive from Beirut to the (Eastern-Lebanese) Syrian border might take an hour and a half (given that one has to drive no more than 30-40 miles per hour due to traffic and small roads). We visited a farm in the Southern-ish part of the Bekaa, where one of the Eyob's classmates has a weekend retreat.
The drive to the Bekaa was uneventful and slow. The mountains outside of Beirut rise quickly and are steep, but the road is densely populated the whole way with cars and villages. Thus, the drive doesn't have the feel of crossing a mountain pass because, in actuality, you are driving slowly through an assortment of towns the entire way. Directions are difficult to come by, because a) we can't read Arabic, and b) there're aren't always signs in the first place. Thus, our directions consisted of landmarks like: go to the Beirut forum building and take the second on-ramp next to the Beirut river (which is really an empty diversion channel). Go with the flow of the traffic. When you get to the bottom of the mountain look for the Mc Donald's and turn before then. When you see the billboard for Pepino's snacks, turn left. Go to the church and call again for your next instructions. Despite the treasure hunt aspect of the drive, we made it to our destination in about two hours (it would have been faster had I been willing to enter advancing traffic in order to pass slow trucks).
The summit of the Shuf has impressive views of the Bekaa valley below. The Bekaa is a high, flat plateau that has been the place of Roman settlement (and now ruins), as well as various overlapping histories of Christian, Muslim, Druze, etc. communities. The Bekaa is also incredibly fertile and all sorts of vegetables and fruits can be grown year-round (it reminds me of the year-round production of California's central valley). We headed to a small town near the Kufraya winery. The house is a large villa with a landscaped backyard and pool. The owners spend weekends there with family and friends, as well as a staff of five servants. We were immediately struck by the wealth of the party-goers, which is a reflection of the wealth at the kids' school. The party consisted of the children of hotel owners, lawyers, corporate heads. Everyone had cosmopolitan lifestyles that take them regularly through Europe, the Gulf, and the United States. There was discussion of weekend trips to Dubai, five-star hotels, etc. The kids had a great time; but they are both aware of class differences and understand that we have less money and things than most of their friends from school.
While driving through the Bekaa, we saw many encampments of bedouins tending to sheep and small plots of land. Our oldest son observed that the bedouins look like refugees. This opened up a conversation about varieties of sovereignty and different forms of land-ownership and belonging. It's a complex story that we don't yet have a grasp of, but our trip to the Bekaa inspired a conversation about migratory people: those forced to leave their homes; those who choose to migrate seasonally; those who have wealth to migrate between the Bekaa, Beirut, Dubai, and Paris; and those, like us, who have the privilege of migrating as "visitors."
