Virtual School and "The Situation"

Early evening yesterday, it was not clear what was going to happen, so they decided to cancel school for Wednesday. But today has been a beautiful day, with shops open. Actually, I don't know how "normal" things are, since I've just stayed in my apartment in Hamra, walked down Bliss Street to get Malak al Towouk, ate it at the AUB campus, and then came to school, all of which are within a 7-minute walking radius.

Prime Minister Sanyoura is at a conference in Paris. Some people think he might resign. It seems the opposition (Hezbolla and friends) are going to hold off now on their protests. They've given Sanyoura a short time period to resign. If he doesn't resign, they'll start up again. But I don't know when.

Yesterday, there was no bread. Khbiz a3rabe is what they call it. In the U.S., we call it pita bread. I had all my neighbors over for dinner. I made a huge vat of mujadarra (lentils with rice and onions and 7 spices) and cabbage salad. It turned out super yum. I fed about 12 people super cheap. But this stuff should be eaten with Khbiz, and one of the guys drove around for 40 minutes on the motorcycle looking, and there was none to be found. Khbiz is the staple. That's the first thing to go when people get nervous about "the situation."

I've never heard "the situation" used so much in my life.

Oh, and yesterday, we heard all kinds of machine gun fire in my neighborhood. Mohamad can distinguish between M-16's and Kalishnikov's and fire crackers. This comes easily for people who live in Dahiye. We don't really know what it was.

Ten people died yesterday.

Officially, all faculty was supposed to be at school yesterday, on Virtual School. At the beginning of the year, it was set up. When "the situation" gets to the point that the kids can't come to school, they are all expected to go on line to get assignments and submit assignments. I came to school and graded their outlines becuase their first drafts were supposed to be due on Wednesday. So I sent them individual e-mails with my feedback. Many of them were on-line and anxious.

Yesterday was my first Virtual School day. It sucked. Go to school, grade stuff, and don't have the kids around. And have to sit at the computer all day, answering their anxious e-mails. Ever since the war, I kind of abhor sitting at the computer. (I'm slowly getting over this.)

In some ways, Lebanon is an alternative universe. Or at least my school. These kids want to come to school. They want to do their work. They had such a crazy, stressed-out summer where all their activities were cancelled, or they had to evacuate, or they had to be separated from their family members, and where they weren't sure if they would be able to continue their education in Lebanon, that they actually love school. They love the stability of it. When "the situation" gets a little tense, they ask me things like, "Miss, will we finish the 8th grade?" "Miss, are we on track?"

They want school.

Haram. I'm almost positive there's school tomorrow. Al7amdilah.