July 17, 2006

Wafaa at the Canadian Embassy

(I'm now going to start changing the names of the people I know. So these will now all start being fake names. It would be cool to have a certain caste of characters, so you can see what's happening with people. But I'm kind of worried about ethics and safety and stuff like that.)

So Wafaa goes to the Canadian Embassy this morning in Beirut to get her passport which they said would be ready this week. When she gets there, it's a mess, all the people are wondering about the evacuation and heard rumors that there was an evacuation and they missed the boat. (I've heard many people freaking out--thinking that they missed the boat. The Brazilians next door missed the bus that left this morning. But they're on the list for the next bus.)

So the woman said she signed her name wrong. It was too close to the bottom margin and the whole thing has to get reprocessed and it will take a couple days.

???!!!!????

Wafaa called me in the car in Beirut on the way back up to her village in the mountain.

"Where are you?"

"In traffic in Beirut."

Yesterday, I heard Beirut was empty. Apparently, Monday morning, there was traffic.

"What??? You walked out of that office without anything. What about your old passport?"

"They have it."

"You go back right now and you get some kind of document and you don't leave until it's in your hands. You're not coming down the mountain in a couple days to get your passport." Then I started losing it. Haram, Wafaa. Having to listen to me. "That's bullshit. You're supposed to risk your life. What if you have to leave, like now? You don't have anything. . . "

A bomb goes off.

"Damn, that was a bomb, and there's traffic. Jane, it was such a mess. Everyone's freaking out down there."

So that's it.

No passport for Wafaa.

------------------------------------------------------------------------
As for me, this morning. I made my big stink in the business office at the school. I was like if they send packages every day from Beirut to Aley, you make sure that my passport is with it.

"I can't. They said they'd bring it when it's ready."

I turn into Jane, Sr. (my mother.) "You make sure my passport is in that package or I'm callling the U.S. Embassy and my lawyer and the State Department." And I just kind of go off like that.

He got the message. Talked to the guy on the phone and made him assure it would be in the package on the way up today. It was in Arabic, but I understood what he said.

But then I was in the souk today and guess what, I forgot about my passport. Whoops. So I came back around 2:30 p.m. And of course the business office people all went home. I'm calling his cell (not working) and his house (not picking up.) I could go to his house. Some one can drive. Or I could just walk the 20 minutes. (I could use the exercise.)

But no, I'm obsessed with this blogging thing. And I don't know how long I'll have electricity. And I'm almost positive it would be a big waste of time. Because government offices and such are all closed. I'll get it tomorrow first thing in the morning. I mean, I'm not going anywhere today.

The whole maybe going through Syria is just not a possibility. I'm waiting for the Americans to figure something out. And they'll take me with the documents I have.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

i know this is such a terrible thing to see happen to lebanon, but i think that you are blessed to be there right now. you are seeing and experiencing something that really connects you to the people you've loved and known. your presence there is somehow part of God's work. the small way that you're able to share in the suffering of those around you is a gift. it's those friends who are with us in the times of greatest trouble who prove themselves to be our truest friends.