Bedouin Bliss

This past weekend I went on a bit of an excursion with a diverse group of new friends I met here in Lebanon. There were four of us, an American/Syrian, an Australian-born Chinese, a Swiss-born Brit, and myself. My roots are definitely the most boring of the bunch, I’m as American as you can get without being a direct descendant of Squanto.

On with the story…the final destination of our trip was Damascus, Syria, but we made a pit stop for the night at the house of the family of Brent (the half-Syrian). Brent’s family is Bedouin, meaning they are come from a lineage of migratory shepherds (like Abraham). The way the world works today, with its country boundaries, border crossings, and modern technologies, has driven most Bedouin from their traditional lifestyle and into a more stationary existence, but many of the traditions are still strongly held. This particular family lives in a group of houses that consists of the father who has 2 wives, one of which is Brent’s aunt, and 15 children, several of which are now married and have their own kids.

The visit began with a round of rousing greetings which continued throughout the night as more relatives made their way to the house. We then lounged on cushions on the living room floor with tea, followed by coffee and a few tasty puffs on the argili (traditional water pipe) on cushions in the back yard while the kids ran circles around us, this preceded yet another round of tea in a different room, on different cushions (notice the theme?). Finally, dinner was served Bedouin-style sitting back on cushions that lined the walls of the family room, with an array of local delicacies to choose from placed on the floor in the middle of the circle. We finished the night off with last round of tea, coffee, and argili, before making our way to the same cushions we had lounged on earlier in the night that would act as our beds.

As the title of this post suggests, my time with the Bedouin was one of bliss. I am Christian, they are Muslims, my country is an adamant supporter of their most hated enemies, we speak different languages, and come from vastly different backgrounds and traditions, but for one night, we were one--one harmonious group of new friends eating, drinking, sharing, and laughing together. I am not naïve to the fact that life for these friends can be difficult. There are struggles in adapting to modernity, education is costly (the family is soon to have their first high-school graduate), and traditions that have defined their culture for thousands of years are having to be left behind. These issues, however, do little to hinder the deep bond they share as a family, they also did little to stop them from opening their doors, arms, and hearts to me, a rich, Christian, American.

This little excursion allowed me the privilege to catch just a brief glimpse into the lives of a family Lebanese, Muslim, Bedouin, and I came away impressed and convicted.

Making peace in the Middle East

Our lounging, tea drinking, and sleeping quarters