In the Valley of Broken Dreams

I tried not to have any preconceptions about Lebanon – it’s just as well! After one day, my main sense is of a country of contrasts. There are beautiful snow topped mountains, huge conurbations, check-points between areas of concrete jungles, and cosmopolitan shops and restaurants (like McDonalds, Starbuck’s and Pizza Hut). There are fertile valleys and barren hillsides; abandoned tourist areas, and multiple construction sites.
The people however, are universally welcoming and hospitable. Our hosts are fabulous, making sure we are well cared for all the time.

We started our day at a private school – Tom and I both leading assemblies. Tom the seniors (including the 3 children of our hosts who tell me he was good) and I was very lucky and spoke to the Juniors. Bring out the puppets….  I spent time with the lovely Head of the Junior School (more tea and cake) and we chatted about the facilities they have for children with special needs - exceptional.

Our party of 8 left the school in 2 cars to travel over the mountains to the Bekaa Valley.  Climbing higher and higher away from the city, we were awed by the spectacular view. High snowy mountain ranges were breath-taking over the top. Down below we could see fruit tree terraces and tiny villages clutching the hillside.

We entered the Bekaa Valley, passed through Kahle and turned right, down a rough potted road, catching glimpses of refugee camps in the distance and through the trees. Then we started seeing clothes hung from barbed wire, and a larger area of white tents, with tiny passages between the homes. Children peered out as they played at the roadside. We had arrived at the first Shack School Global Care supports.  We briefly visited the school, chatting to staff and pupils, amazed at the high standard of pictures and writing in this tent by the roadside.

Then we travelled further into an area dotted with camps, and arrived at the ‘new’ school being supported by Global Care. The children (all Syrian refugeess) were playing outside, laughing and shouting, so we spent time meeting the staff and finding out about the school.  Then it was my favourite time – playing with the children. Out came the parachute, and half an hour later, dusty, hot and tired, we packed it up when they had begun to get carried away. In other words, I lost my translator and at the same time, control…

As well as spending time at the school, we visited a couple of homes. My fourth head-teacher of the day was a major contrast with the other three. We entered his home, a two-roomed tent, where he, his wife, and their 4 children live. He left Raqqa in 2014 when it became too difficult to live there. I can’t tell you why... 1 married daughter lives in Lebanon, 1 in Turkey, and he left another girl studying in Homs in Syria.  2 children go to the Global Care shack school, a third was at school but she became sick and died. 2 of the children have jobs as metal-workers – the family’s only source of income.  

We sat in their home on their mattresses spread around the floor. There was a carpet in the middle, and a stove.  They gave us coffee. They looked worn and sad. But they welcomed these strangers into their home and told us their story.

We left – ate more food, and are going out later for a meal.

I am shocked and saddened once again. It’s easy to forget about Syria and its people. It’s easy to pretend they don’t need our help. They need help from someone. These parents are so grateful that their children can have the opportunity for an education. And hope that one day they can return to Syria and help to re-build their country.