Gharyan

Our new life in Libya has centered around adjusting to a new school and all that comes along with that, getting accustomed to this country and its culture,, and taking advantage of the many historical sites that abound in this country. Our short visit to Gharyan was a mix of the all three.

One of the obvious characteristics of working at an international school is meeting people from all over the world. While many of our students are from the United States, most are from other countries or are originally from the U.S. but have lived elsewhere for most of their lives. However, as what tends to happen when traveling abroad, people of the same culture tend to attract each other. So, part of teaching at a new school means meeting new students and their parents. And one of the few Mexican families invited us to their home for a barbecue over the Eid Al Fitr holiday, the end of the month of Ramadan.

We where happy to be invited and to spend time with other latinos. Lorena and Cesar live in a nice 2-story home about 10 minutes away from our house. They both work in the oil industry, which is one of the main reasons so many foreigners live in Libya. Their daughter, Ximena, is in the pre-school at our school.

When we arrived we were introduced to their co-workers/friends. We drank some homemade Sangria and snacked on cheese and crackers while the conversation covered the many different aspects of living in Libya. We, of course, were the newbies, they have all lived in Libya for about 5 years, more or less. They all shared their advice with us and talked about their experiences, joking about each other and themselves the whole while.

So we sat there, drinking Sangria and munching on snacks, and eventually the on the delicious grilled steak and green salsa that Lorena's dad, visiting from Mexico, made from local chiles. What struck us as we sat there was the amazing theme of the day. One couple was made of two columbians, another couple was made up of an Argentinian woman and her British husband. There was another pair was from Spain and Venezuela, Lorena and Cesar from Mexico, and Carolina and I. All of these people from different countries and what united us was a common language, Spanish. Yes, even the British guy was speaking in Spanish, I assume that's how he got his wife to marry him.

Over lunch and laughs we gained some insights into life in Libya. One was that everyone is certain that we'll leave Libya with a baby in tow, but Carolina and I are certain that that won't be the case. However, they all subscribe to the same theory, you enter Libya as one person, and you leave as three. These families began as singles, they got hitched and had children all in the few years that they've lived here, so they see themselves as living proof of the theory.

A couple of weeks later Lorena and Cesar invited us to go with them to the nearby town of Gharyan, which is about 30 -45 minutes south of Tripoli. Gharyan is known for two things, ceramics and troglodyte homes. I'll explain more about the  troglodyte homes in a bit. First comes the 3-hour drive to the town that's only 30-45 minutes away . . . yeah, 3 hours.

So, we arrive at Lorena & Cesar's home early in the morning, about 9am. We talk a bit and wait for them to be ready, then we load up the cars. In their car goes Cesar, who's driving, Lorena, their son Alonso, and Lorena's father. In our car goes Carolina and I, Ximena, their daughter, and Saida, a Morrocan woman about our age who works as Lorena's house cleaning help / baby-sitter.

So, we get on the freeway and start heading west, towards Sabratha, even though Gharyan lies to the south. Carolina and I both notice the discrepancy, but since we didn't really know our way around too well yet, and they had lived here for about 5 years, we trusted in their judgement.

As we continue to drive, west, not south, we strike up a conversation about Saida. We learn that she's been living in Libya for about 15 years, but she really misses Morocco. Even though she's Arab and Muslim, she doesn't really like living in Libya and wishes she could go home. But she moved here with her family and now has a family of her own and can't really afford to move back. She reminds me of most immigrant families back home, living in one place while longing to return 'home'.

Saida talked to us about Morocco and offered her family's house there for us if we ever wanted to visit. She was very nice and Caro and I were really glad to have met here.

After a while of talking, we noticed that we had passed a couple of freeway junctions where we could have turned south toward Gharyan. But we continued west, not south.

"Are they lost?"

"Are we going somewhere else first?"

"Are we picking someone else up?"

We tried to make sense of it, being cautious not to admit that we're following someone who doesn't know where he's going.

We eventually drove past the town of Sabratha, the location of the Roman ruins we visited our second weekend here. Sabratha is about 1 hour west of Tripoli, as opposed to Gharyan which is about 30-45 minutes south.

If this sounds drawn out and repetitive it's only because I'm trying to recreate the sensation of taking a long time to get to a point that should be a lot closer and take less time to get to.

So, we drive past Sabratha for about another 20 minutes and then pull over at a gas station. Lorena walks out of the car and approaches us.

So they weren't lost, and we weren't going to pick someone else up.

He did not know where he was going.

Well, we turn around at a point about 30 minutes from the Tunisian border. I would have liked to have seen Tunisia, but without my passport I wouldn't have gotten far. Besides, Gharyan was only about 90 - 120 minutes away at this point, no passport required, all we needed to do now was point the cars in the right direction and go.

So we did, and Saida called up a friend of her's for directions on how to get to Gharyan from where we were instead of heading all the way back to Tripoli. So, we took the lead and Cesar followed us as we cut across new (to us) roads on the outskirts of Tripoli. I drove while Saida read the signs and checked in with her friend on the phone.

Soon the mountains atop which lies the city of Gharyan rose into view. Cesar would later comment that he was suspicious that he was going the wrong way because he didn't see the mountains. We began to drive up the windy road to the top and behind us was one of the most breathtaking sights I've seen in Libya. You could almost see clear to the ocean. You could see sandy plains, farm fields and the city in the distance. The mountain itself rose up sharply from the flat dry plain and you could feel the winds trying to knock you down.

We got to the top Cesar took the lead again. We turned off the main road and into a neighborhood of houses built close to each other. We meandered through the narrow streets until we came out into the open, to a clearing on the edge of a cliff overlooking the plains below. We got out of the cars and the full view was in front of us.

Living in the city, you can feel like the world is small. You only see a small street at a time with only hints of a larger world around the corner. It is in sights like the view from the cliff at Gharyan that the vastness of the world is truly revealed. It's not the worlds highest peak, by far, nor is it the world's best view. But from Gharyan you can see from the sandy interior of Libya to the shores of Tripoli, and there is no other place in the world where you can do that.

There at the edge of the cliffs we took pictures and toasted to the end of our 30-45 minute drive, which took us 3 hours to complete. We all gave Cesar a tough time about it, but soon hunger took center stage and moved on.

If you've ever seen Star Wars, the first one, the real first one that came out before I was born, then you'll appreciate this next piece.

We walked towards a nearby house, a modern looking cement brick building that enjoys the same view we were taking in. Lorena and Cesar had made reservations to eat lunch here. But instead of going into the house, we begin walking down a path that lead us underground. There was an entrance that was hidden from the view of anyone standing up top, and we walked into a tunnel. The tunnel lead us towards a small room, decorated with local carpeting and quilts, souvenirs, and baskets. Then the tunnel opened up to a large room open to the sky. We where standing about 20-25 feet below the surface in what seemed like an older living room, with straw and wooden furniture and cactus as decoration. It was a square room that itself was about 30 x 30 feet.

Welcome to the Troglodyte houses of Gharyan.

The Berber people, one of the original inhabitants of Libya before the Arab conquest, used to live in houses that they dug out from the ground. These homes protected them from the heat, the sandstorms, and their enemies.

In the case of this particular house, 300 years later, it's still here. The families that lived here have moved to the surface, and they have converted their old family home into a museum and restaurant.

Mohammad is the name of the young guy who showed us around and was our host. He's dark skinned, shaved head, and carries himself with confidence when showing us around the house, but is shy with his English. He's very friendly.

Each side of the the center square has two or three round doorways that lead to the different rooms. As he described it, between 4-8 different families lived together in these types of homes. Each family had a large room where they slept, and the families shared the duties of the house.

The center room is completely open to the sky, and around the edge of the wall are wholes dug out for birds to make their nests. Mohammad said that they were dug intentionally so that the birds could provide music.

The family rooms are kept just as they were when people used to live here. Woolen blankets, pillows, and carpets line the walls and floors, as well as straw woven mats.

Inside one room, we took off our shoes and rested on the ground. Mohammad sat behind a small stove and a set up of what looked like shot glasses, mugs and a tea kettle. His confidence returned to his face as he sat comfortably crossed legged. He turned on the stove and sat the tea kettle to boil. We chatted for a bit and talked about where we were from and he gave us a few quick lessons in Arabic.

As we talked, he took the kettle and poured the boiling water into a tin mug. He grabbed another mug and began an almost ritualistic movement with the tea and the mugs. He raised one hand up high, and let the tea pour down into the other mug. Then, even before the last drop was out, his hands changed places and the pour it back into the first mug just as he did before. The tea moved back and forth like a slinky. With every movement, the cascading liquid began to foam up.

He separated the foam from the tea, using both mugs. He then poured the foam into the shot glasses, enough for everyone there. Then, he poured the tea into the foam-filled glasses. He served us all and toasted. The tea was a great green tea.

After a while we were told that our lunch was ready. We moved into another large room where our food was set up picnic style on the floor. We sat around a large blanket filled with food. There was a place setting for each of us. A ceramic bowl and a plate, with fork and spoon. The bowl was filled with lentil soup. There was bread and fruit, and a large bowl filled with couscous and lamb meat. There was way too much food, and we all ate way too much.

After eating, we settled the bill and took more pictures. We thanked our hosts and said goodbye. Before we left though, I learned from Mohammad that I would see him again. Our school had a field trip scheduled to come to the house later that month, and I did see him again and had more tea and again way too much food.

We walked out of the tunnel and back out into the open. We got back in the cars and made our way back to the main road. We headed to the ceramic shops which line the highway with their colorful designs and intricate patterns.

We stopped on the side of the road were a lot of shops are clustered together. We walked along and eyed the bowls and vases and candle holders and piggy banks. There were lots of tea sets and souvenirs, plates and spoons and animal figures. All of it is made by hand in the local pottery factories, which are usually small family owned set ups, with a few pottery wheels and skilled artisans.

We spent about an hour looking around and even bought a few things. I won't go into what we bought because some of it is for some of you reading this. Until we go back home, what we bought currently is decorating our home.

After some shopping we began our journey home, which took only about 30-45 minutes, not 3 hours, because this time we headed  north, not east along the Tripoli Gharyan highway. Of course, I joked with Cesar before we said goodbye that day, if I ever want to come back to Gharyan, I might just have to go to Sabratha first because I don't know how else to get there now.