--Sarmad Al Wadi
Coming in a car from Damascus,
we turned a corner just after passing Dahr el Baidar. There is this particular
point on this road where the arid, dusty brown emptiness of the eastern
side of Mount Lebanon is suddenly replaced by the greenery of the hills
and the valleys and pine trees. All of a sudden the corner is turned, and
a heavenly scenery strikes you. You are faced with miles and miles of the
beauty of this tiny part of the world that is Lebanon. It never failed
to send shivers up my spine when I was a kid travelling back to school
25 years ago. And now, as I struggled to express and explain the emotions
I felt to my kids, it brought tears to my eyes. The sight I remembered
from those years ago struck me. I vowed never to believe anyone who says
we grow old. It was easy to forget that almost a whole lifetime had gone
by since I was here last.
I had called Linda Nagem-Sawaya from Chtaura soon after we crossed the border. “Well it’s about time” Linda said in her unforgettable, warm, friendly voice. “Welcome back to Lebanon... we've all missed you." An old friend from those heady school days, and a friend I had not seen or heard from for all these years. What do you expect from someone that you’ve hardly had any contact with for 25 years? Would you expect that they would drop everything and make all the necessary arrangements for you. Months in planning, helping in transforming a dream into reality, booking you into a hotel, meeting you and becoming your host and companion for the duration of your stay? Of course you wouldn’t, would you? But this is Lebanon, remember?
The journey was like a dream for me. Finally we came to the last sector. The road from Beirut to Brummana is still essentially the same, many of the landmarks are still there, but much has changed, and very subtly. Eventually, we got to Brummana. The journey seemed a lot shorter than I remembered, and pretty soon we were at the School gates. We turned and went into the drive, and as I looked to the right, I saw a lone figure standing at the railings of Meeting House looking down at us. I turned to the kids and pointed out Linda to them. Suddenly I was on the school grounds, and I didn’t know where to look next. My feelings ranged from pure disbelief that I was finally back in Lebanon, back at Brummana, back on BHS grounds, to sadness that I didn't get here sooner.
There to meet us too was Mrs. Nuhad Misk. She had also been extremely helpful in making arrangements for our stay. Even convinced the school authorities to open up Edinburgh House (Waldmeir House) to be used by those of us who had travelled from outside Lebanon during the days of the reunion. Wasn’t this such a brilliant touch of nostalgia? I was so much looking forward to meeting her. But this was Sunday, her day off. She didn’t have to be there. And yet she’d specially opened the BHS OSA offices and was there too, with the cold drinks and the coffee, waiting to greet us. You wouldn’t expect someone you’d never met to feel such an attachment to you, would you? Of course you wouldn’t. But this is Brummana, remember?
It wasn’t long before the conversation turned to Debi Cates. It was finding Debi’s site on the ‘net that started this whole roller coaster ride for me. It was this find that so overjoyed me, and Debi was instrumental in helping me get in touch with so many of my old school friends. I was extremely touched by the sincerity of a long lost friend who had a dream, and who succeeded in making this dream come true. In time, between us, we got back in touch with many more friends, and set about encouraging and convincing them to come to this reunion. Soon Debi herself would be coming, all the way from West Texas, and I was so looking forward to seeing her again. And the days that followed proved how a dream could turn to reality.
The day had only just started. Along the way to the hotel we met Mr. and Mrs. Kamel taking a stroll. We stopped to pay our respects, and I was delighted to see that they recognized me instantly.
And then the moment I had been waiting for all these years. My first walk in the school grounds.
In the few hours I’d been in the country I was struck by the amount of new construction work going on. True, there are still many signs of the destruction of the many years of war the country had endured, but the sense of optimism was palpable, and the scale and speed of rebuilding of the country was breathtaking. And yet, walking around the school grounds was like being transported back in time. There seemed to be hardly any change. BHS was very much as I remembered it. True there are now fences everywhere. These were never there. True there are guard houses at both main entrances. But the old buildings are still there. We walked down the stone steps, from the drive to the volleyball court. The old weathered and bowed stone steps had been replaced, the basketball stands had gone, a canopy had been put up near the entrance to the mess, but everything else, including the old asphalt ground, was still the same.
I looked up at the Administration building, and remembered the old girls Common Room used to be there. The old steel staircase that led to the top floor had gone, but the mess is still there, and I remembered the many meals I had there in the 8 years I was a boarder there.
We walked down the steps towards the Science building, then along the pathway down the steps towards the old girls dorm, and the tennis courts alongside. Then up the drive towards the Primary building, and then down the long steps that lead to the pool, and Dobbing Hall. Rizkallah House was in the distance. That was my House, and how proud I was of having lived there for 6 years.
The football field had not changed, nor had the open air theater, nor Waldmeir or Little House. We then headed back up towards the main drive. All along the way we were stopped many times to be greeted by so many people who recognized me and stopped to say hello. How guilty I felt to have forgotten how friendly everyone is.
There was so much to see, so much to absorb, and somehow it didn’t feel like nearly 25 years had gone past since I was last here. Everywhere I walked I had the feeling that everywhere I turned and looked, everything seemed to be reaching out to me, and saying: “Welcome home. Welcome back home.”
But of course I would have this feeling, wouldn’t you? This is home, remember?