Paola's story: Evacuation from Beirut

Hi everyone,

I know this is kind of long...
Our plane landed at Philadelphia International Airport at 7 am on July26th. I have never been so happy to be back in the states. Part of the reason why my heart was filled with so much joy was because we were NOT on a military airbase in turkey (more on that *lovely* ordeal later). I am really looking forward to seeing all of you in the days and weeks to come. Again, I have the best bunch of friends and comrades in the world. I don’t know what we would have done without your love, support, insight, offers for financial help, offers of housing, food, etc. We were really touched and are so glad that we have all of you in our lives. If you ever need the same, we’ll be there.

I would think twice about wishing the evacuation on my worst enemy. Never in my life have I seen such ad hoc arrangements and such gross incompetence. We started out on July 25th. Luckily, some of our friends took us to the departure point near Dubayeh. If they weren’t able to do so, it would have cost us probably over 60$ (US!) because the cost of benzene was rising. In addition, cabbies were more reluctant to take customers from Beirut to other areas because of the danger factor involved. Getting to Dubayeh wasby no means a terribly dangerous journey but the risk factor has been multiplied since the Israeli Army started its bombing campaign. At 6 am, we got on line. Or rather, there was just a group of people and a bunch of Lebanese Army soldiers and some Lebanese police officers. We realized that they were letting people pass a checkpoint in batches, at a really slow rate. We finally had our turn to pass them and stand on yet another line closer to embassy personnel. By the looks of it, there were only a handful of embassy workers. It figures; many of them fled after day one or two leaving us to deal with the consequences of war on our own. By the way,the UN folks were just as bad or worse though we expected this of them because of their history in Lebanon. I heard that on day three or so they took all of the jeeps that they could find and fled. They drove like bats out of hell to the Syrian border and never looked back (fearing that they might get turned into a pillar of ashes like those in the South?). Classic, just classic.

Anyhow… This was about two hours into the whole ordeal. We had to put down our bags so several dogs could sniff at them. Then we could go to the porta potties and wait in yet another long line. Luckily, they set up tents so we didn’t have to collapse from heat stroke. However, the tents didn’t cover all areas so there were chunks of time that we were out in the sun, which was absolutely wretched. We were thankful for the water that we received, though it is really sad that we had to cross our fingers and hope for such basic necessities (i.e. food, shelter, bathrooms, water). We were on line for three or more hours. Then we were directed out of that line and onto the next one. We had more shade but less bathroom options and it became really stuffy underneath the tents. A mother and her family were in front of us. They fled the south with garbage bags and nothing but the clothes on their backs. Their house was destroyed.

Our bags were opened up and inspected by customs officials and then we were placed into yet another line. At least we got to sit down this time. Waited probably around an hour and then we had to haul our stuff across part of a beach to get to the military transport vessel. I was glad that the Marines were at least helping people carry their stuff. I had a full hiking pack, a bag full of food and two other bags so it was getting a bit difficult for me. We were loaded onto a small transport ship. It was clearly made to hold tanks, cars, weapons, etc but not people. Everything was metallic and it was hot enough to be one of Dante’s levels of hell. It was nearly unbearable to sit on the floor and they kept on packing more people in. I have a pretty good stomach but the movement of the ship made me a bit nauseous. Then we floated away to meet the USS Trenton out at sea. The Israeli Gov’t had an air and sea blockade on Lebanon but they were making exceptions for evacuees. The USS Trenton was also a transport vessel. They had to import cots, blankets and other supplies that were necessary for giving 1,800 people a place to rest. We sat in the cargo hold on cots for a couple of hours. We ate some food that I cooked the daybefore and drank all the water that they would give us. Then we were escorted row by row to the upper decks of the ship. We saw several helicopters come in, probably with people who were told to meet at the embassy. The ship floated around for ten hours. We saw several explosions. I think that they were cell phone towers and electrical plants though I am not 100% sure. It was a bit surreal; the war was already fading into something abstract. I was ambivalent about taking it all in; I felt even more hopeless and removed. Lebanon was burning and from that ship, there was really nothing I could do. I couldn’t do relief work, it was hard to call my friends, etc. I had to sit down and tear my eyes away from the skyline because it was just a bit much to watch.

Then we tried to find a place to rest. They were handing out cots and blankets but somehow nothing was getting to us. I kept asking and they kept on saying they would look into it. Then one of the officers told me to go downstairs because that was where they were finally handing out somemore supplies. They were doing it Titanic style (i.e. women and children first) and then everything was gone anyway so I went back upstairs, fuming and empty handed. The sun was really hot and we were already out in it all day. The ship floor was hot and metallic so sitting without anything was really quite uncomfortable.

Part of me can understand the reasons why families were taken care of first but I was angry nonetheless. I felt like as a childfree couple we didn’t matter and that we were a non entity that wasn’t even worthy of a thin sheet (I don’t think that there was a plot to convey such a message but it certainly felt that way after waiting for hours on end). Their concept of families of course was limited to the nuclear family (mom-wife, dad-husband and kids) which was became problematic especially later on when they didn’t take into consideration all of the aunts, cousins, grandmas, who would refuse to be separated (more on this later) and shuttled off on different flights. Never mind what it would be like for other families that don’t fit neatly into that schema. After some time I realized that it was pretty much every person for himself or herself so I grabbed up two blankets from a spot that had three because I hadn’t seen the guy return for a long time and he had three blankets (as one person) and we had none.

I went to sleep as soon as I could only to have a terrible wake up call. It was pitch black on the upper deck and windy like you wouldn’t believe. We tried our best to keep the sheets and our some of our lighter belongings from blowing away. I hunted around for a flashlight but seeing didn’t necessarily make the sheet business any better because it was still like wrestling with an octopus. Getting below the deck for water or the bathroom was insane because of the wind, lack of proper light and steep ladders.

We arrived in Turkey early in the morning, only to wait on the ship in the hot sun for five more hours. We didn’t even bother trying to get something to eat in the mess hall; it was always absolutely clogged with people and their screaming children (who drove me absolutely insane! Annoying anklebiters, arrrrrgh!)

I decided to be out cold for the time on the ship because it was simply too hot to be awake. A long line of evacuees who were waiting to get off snaked around the flight deck. We decided to grab a cot and wait it out. We timed our descent to the line just in time. They were still doing it Titanic style but I said that I wasn’t going to leave Rafy on a military ship so we left together about 10 minutes later which approaches the speed of light by their standards.

There were several embassy people shouting promises of a bed, a shower and hot food, saying that “the nightmare was over.” Whatever. I would rather take my chances with the war in a relatively safe neighborhood in Beirut (Hamra). At least I know that I will have a bed, food and will know what I am in for. The nightmare was just in its early stages, actually. We went through yet another line (this time, more customs) and then we were put on buses that were going to Incirlik Airbase which is near the city of Adana. We were given MREs, which are absolutely hilarious and kind of gross (they are highly processed and several steps above airplane food). They had a heating element which told us to prop the device upright using “a rock or something.” Or something, I kid you not. Then other packages talked about how “nutrition was a force multiplier.”

It took us three hours to enter the base. They had us waiting in buses for about two. The AC was terrible and it got unbearably hot. It really sucked but at least we’re young and relatively healthy; I can only imagine how bad it was for the elderly.

Then they took us in and briefed us, which was another two hours. At least the AC was working. Then they had us line up for room assignments and meal cards. They segregated us all by sex (except for children) but at least Rafy and I were in buildings that were next to each other. We tried to use the phone/internet facility. We had to wait for at least an hour because it was overrun with people. At least I got an email or two through and called my parents.

Then we saw what our rooms were like. At least we had real beds this time, which was a plus and real AC. The downside was that each room had 6 or 8 people on bunk beds. Of course, I was in the women’s building and many children were with their mothers so they were all running around and there was always some kid screaming so sleeping was a bit difficult. All of this made me dislike children even more, if you haven’t noticed.

I woke up when soldiers pounded on the door at 5:30am. They wanted us all to look at flight lists in order to see if our names were posted. Ichecked and neither one of us were on them so I went back to sleep. We woke up, checked our email and looked into breakfast. Luckily, things weren’t as crowded. We decided to make Rafy’s room the base because it had fewer children and people were generally quiet. I regretted the trip back to my room to get a few things because it was swarming with children who were building forts and blocking the door with mattresses.

We sat around and read until we were so bored that we couldn’t read anymore. We were confined to a small area of the base and there wasn’tmuch to do except to read, email, pace and get annoyed. I overheard many interesting conversations. Some people assumed that I knew Arabic and others didn’t. One family was basically doing a cost benefit analysis of the evacuation versus trying to get to places in Syria. They decided that doing the latter, as risky as it is, might have been better than sitting around like sheep. Some were thinking that since they were in relatively safe areas, it might have been better taking a chance with the war.

Then we saw that a new flight list was posted. Rafy’s name was on it but mine wasn’t. We agreed that we wouldn’t leave the other at Incirlik, it was just too absurd. We were given the run around for a bit and then were told to talk to the state department. Naturally, they were overwhelmed. Other people had been split up too because they just weren’t all that organized. Parents were separated from children, cousins were split, grandparents, etc. If they were smart, they would realize that splitting up families was just asking for trouble. Then I realized that they hastily posted a standby list with my name on it. They said that if Rafy didn’t want to go, he could be placed on standby with me or we could both wait for a later flight. We agreed that it was the best course of action. We threw our stuff into our bags in less than five minutes and proceeded to yet another line. We were there for at least an hour. Oddly enough, we met another Rutgers student! They’re everywhere!

Rafy and I were the last people to get on a bus to the airfield. Once we were inside the mini military airport, we waited for another five hours for our flight to arrive. We learned that it was a civilian aircraft (a huge ATA plane) that would take us from the airbase to a civilian airport in Ireland (Shannon) to refuel for two hours and then we would land in Philly intn’l. Meanwhile, we were thinking “Ireland?!” Sigh…

I saw that they had phones and called my parents. Once again, I was glad that I knew some Arabic because I had no idea how to use the phones and the woman next to me saw that I was having trouble and she saved the day.

I tried to sleep for most of the flight but I couldn’t because I was freezing (as usual!). I wrapped my head in a scarf and blanket, put on two shirts and that didn’t really help. I was also glad that we grabbed some extra MREs because they will always beat airplane food.

We arrived absolutely exhausted (or well… I was because I couldn’t sleep properly!) at around 7am and breezed through customs.

Looking fwd to hearing from all of you and seeing you too! I will start to send replies to your personal emails in a few days. Sorry I couldn’t get to it sooner…

Love, solidarity and SAMIDOUN!
Paola