The Cedars of Lebanon

Sunday began with mass at 10:30 in the lovely chapel just outside my door. Each morning in Lebanon we’ve awoken to the sounds of the rooster crowing at dawn and the bells ringing just before 7am to call the faithful to prayer. Actually, we’ve been awake long before either of those events, but as we become more adjusted to the time frame, I think they’ll begin to act as our alarm clock. Sunday we got up a bit later and readied ourselves for a day of sightseeing by attending the beautiful mass in the chapel. The Maronite mass is sung, partly in Aramaic, the language of Jesus, and partly in Arabic. Although none of us understand the words, the flow and cadence is familiar, and some of the words can be picked out. For example, our Amen is pronounced Ameen and the recitation of the creed has a familiar ring to it too. The mass is performed each morning at 7am, except Sunday, when it’s performed later and far better attended. The little chapel was crowded Sunday morning. After mass we met in the monastery’s salon and visited with the parishioners. One of them was a beautiful woman who sang at the mass. She had a glorious voice, and as she was speaking with Jodie and Sheila, it suddenly dawned on me that I had seen her face many times before on billboards and posters all over Beirut. She was the famous singer Joumana Mdawar! Kindly, Fr. Andre provided us each with two of her CD’s. Shortly after, Fr. Freiha arrived to take us to the north, to visit The Cedars of Lebanon. Fr. Freiha spent a number of years in Australia where he ministered to many Lebanese who originated from this very area. Consequently he knew many people who live near The Cedars. We stopped to visit with one family, and were so touched by the patriarch who was grieving the recent loss of his wife. They were married for over 30 years, and she had taken loving care of him all this time. He was bereft. It was difficult, since they spoke little English and of course our Arabic is non-existent, but Fr. Freiha conveyed our deepest condolences. He seemed to particularly connect with Jodie, and sat holding her hand and weeping quietly. The recent loss of my mother and grief of my father was brought to mind for me, and I was moved to tears myself, as was Sheila who has also lost a parent. After coffee and a brief visit, we next traveled to the summer residence of the Maronite order, where there was a stunning chapel, and then on to the chapel of St. Charbel, one of four Maronite saints. He was sainted for his
miracles, particularly his ability to heal the sick, and in his chapel/house there is a wall covered in rosaries, pictures, and momentos of the people St. Charbel has helped. It is said he continues to work his miracles today. The town where St. Charbel’s home is located, was so quaint and beautiful.
The narrow streets are cobbled and the buildings are all red tiled and stone sided, perched on the hillsides overlooking the valley of the saints. We traveled to the Cedars after that, but since we were all feeling a little hungry by this time, we stopped for lunch first. Fr. hwas the consummate host, as they all have been since we arrived. We’re getting quite spoiled by the treatment! Lunch was mesas, the traditional Lebanese starters of hummus, babganoush, lebnya (a thick yougurt), and vegetables. This is followed by skewers of meat, chicken and sausage. The chicken is often served with a garlic sauce that is particularly delicious. Fresh fruit follows, and if you like, Turkish coffee and sweets, though we stopped at the fruit. Following lunch we spent a lovely hour or so walking through the Cedars of Lebanon, enjoying the light as it faded amongst the trees. It was beautiful. Jodie is turning into my artistic director. I love to take pictures, and she has an uncanny knack of finding the right composition, so I think my photos are getting better and better as the trip progresses.
We enjoyed making purchases of small gifts and mementos to take home from the stalls that lined the road next to The Cedars, and then headed home. By this time it was dark, but Fr. Freiha expertly navigated the winding road back to Beirut. The drive is about 2 hours from Beirut to The Cedars, and on the way back, Father stopped to get us ice cream cones. Of course we were fainting from hunger at this point, so just in time! They were an unusual flavor, very good, but not exactly vanilla. I’m not sure what to call it. The closest I can come is Molly Moo's lavender ice cream that we had at the start of the school year. Very delicate. And of course, rolled in crushed pistachios. You wouldn’t want it to be too low calorie, now would you?! Fr. Andre had planned a dinner out at a famous Lebanese restaurant with several of the teachers, including our friend Maya. We met there on the way back, because they were waiting to greet us with this great meal! I’ve finally figured out the trick here. Mo, Mike, pay attention. You accept a very small portion of everything. Nibble a bit and push it around on your plate. Don’t EVER clean off your plate or they’ll insist on putting more food on it! You say "La, la, la, la!" That's no four times, and they won't pile your plate with more food. You might actually survive without gaining 100 lbs if you follow this advice, but I’m not going to guarantee it!