The First American

For the first time in my life and in my somewhat extensive travelling, someone told me that I was the first American that he had ever met. He also told me, in very broken English, that America is his "land of dreams." This man was an Arab, a devout Muslim, and a really nice guy. (I guess I really shouldn't make any judgments of his piety, though I do know that during the day we spent together he never missed the call to prayer) It was an entirely unexpected situation, especially considering I was in Libya. I'll give you all a little background before I start jumping to my conclusions.

There are a depressing amount of spreadsheets in my day to day grind. There are some days that I look at spreadsheets for hours on end. It is nearly enough to drive one mad. At other times my job gives me the opportunity to travel the world and see the glory of God's creation. These travel opportunities make all of the spreadsheets, synergy capture meetings, filing safety videos (yes, I've had to watch a video on the safest way to file stuff in a file cabinet), and webinars worth it. In fact, I love my job.

A few weeks ago I left on a trip for London and then traveled on to Libya. It may go without saying, but London is a wonderful town. Yes, it's noisy, crowded and expensive but I still love it. My boss loves it as well and so far it has been on all of our itineraries and will likely be on all of them in the future. We were in London specifically to pick up our Libyan visas. We had to do this in the UK because until very recently (i.e. after we had already applied for our visas) the US and Libya did not have direct diplomatic relations. The meant that there was no Libyan Embassy (or People's Bureau as they call themselves) in the United States. After three days in London my boss and I continued on our journey and headed to Libya. With geo-politics being what they are and this being my first trip to an Arab nation there was some amount of trepidation as I boarded British Airways flight 898 bound for Tripoli.

The Great Socialist People's Libyan Arab Jamahiriya turned out to be a very cool place. Tripoli is an ancient city resting on the Mediterranean and holding back the ever encroaching Sahara. It is a poor place but to some extent the socialist government functions as promised. Basic foodstuffs and housing are provided for all. There was no homelessness that I witnessed nor any begging or panhandling. Of course, Libya is also very much a police state so that might have something to do with keeping the "undesirables" out of sight. Pictures of the good Colonel were everywhere and I was told that his secret police were nearly as prevalent. I can honestly say that, other than being away from my family, I did not have any unpleasant experiences in Libya. The people were incredibly friendly and polite to a fault. Anyone that you had a more than five minute conversation with immediately tried to invite you to dinner or give you a gift. English is not widely spoken, but my broken Italian (Italy once ruled Libya) and wild hand gestures usually got us back on the right track whenever we were lost in the old city. Getting lost in the old city of Tripoli takes almost no effort whatsoever. There are very few main streets so you spend most of the time wandering alleyways that were very rarely lit or actually paved. On three different evenings we spent time in the old city and in the souk (the marketplace) aimlessly wandering about. The point of all of this aimless wandering was simply to see what we could see. In general it usually paid off. From time to time the narrow alleyways would open up onto a small square with restaurants, markets, small hotels, or even an ancient roman victory arch. Sometimes the alleys would give way to a larger square that was either packed with people out for the evening walk or dominated by a mosque.

Unless you can't tell, I really liked Tripoli. It is not yet one of the undiscovered paradises like Oman or Namibia. There is only one nice hotel and it is extravagant in both price and amenities. There is also a huge litter problem. While in general Libya is very clean, there are no open sewers or anything like that, the paper trash and plastic bags that litter every street are definitely a problem. Though, the biggest thing hold Libya back form being a huge tourist destination is that all types of consumable alcohol are completely outlawed. People like to drink on their vacations and I don’t see many investors building hotels and resorts when they can’t also install a bar. The business portion of my trip was finished earlier than expected, so my boss and I were able to take a trip outside the city of Tripoli to visit the ancient Roman city of Leptis Magna. We hired a driver as neither of us were suicidal enough to attempt to drive in the Libya traffic. Our driver, the man previously mentioned at the beginning of this post, was young and had recently moved into Tripoli from the countryside. His family is farmers, growing olives and dates.

The ruins of Leptis Magna are a sight to behold. Having lived in Italy for two years and having seen my share of Roman ruins I was not prepared to be impressed. The ancient city of Leptis Magna not only impressed me, it astounded me. The city was a trading port and as such set right on the shore. The crumbling ancient port still juts out into the Mediterranean. Today the ruins, which rise out of the sand of the desert, can be explored nearly without limitation. You can wander through theaters, bathouses, amphitheaters, a basilica, a coliseum, a circus, a market place, a forum, and countless other sights. Leptis Magna is a UNESCO world heritage site but it lacks and serious oversight. The Libyan government has protected it so far, but it could easily become overly commercialized. If for whatever reason you find yourself in Libya you must make the 2 hour trek to the east of Tripoli in order to see Leptis Magna.

Upon arriving at the entrance to Leptis our driver, whose name was Basem (Bah-seem), introduced us to a friend of his who moonlights as a tour guide. For $30 dollars he would spend 4 hours with us and show us all the most important sights in and around Leptis and fill us in on the history of the place. Abdualah was the guide's name and as it turned out he spent the entire day with us, gave us an amazing tour of Leptis, took us to his favorite markets in the small town adjacent to Leptis, and shared a meal with us. As the day wore on the language barriers were broken down and more and more of our life stories were shared. I was struck at how similar both Basem's and Abdualah's stories were to my own and to others that I know. Basem came from a small town and grew up on a farm. He left the farm for the city in order to make a better life for himself. Abdualah was working as a tour guide in order to finance his studies. He already had the equivalent of a B.S. in economics and wanted to go to England or America to get an M.B.A. Both of the Libyans loved their country but were somewhat leery of their government. We talked about faith and politics but what they were really interested in was new rock music. You see the Libyan government has not allowed western music on Libyan radio stations for nearly three decades nor could you buy albums in their stores. Their starting point for pop culture references were REO Speedwagon and Rush not the White Stripes and the Shins. While they knew Shakira (both of them visibly blushed when they talked about her shaking hips) they did not know Britney. I can only think that they were better off with their lack of knowledge. In the end both men were somewhat sheltered and naive about the world as a whole. One of the things that struck me the most was that, despite the fact that the U.S. and much of the rest of the Western world had considered Libya an enemy and a terrorist supporting country, both men greatly desired to go America, their "land of dreams."

By this time, if you are even still reading, I am sure you are saying, “Geez, get to the point already.” Despite the fact that I know how trite it will sound I will indeed get to the point and wrap this whole thing up. People are people no matter where you go. Huh?!? That’s it? Well, yeah… that is it. The life stories of Basem and Abdualah could be taking place anywhere in the world. We are so quick to put up barriers that we immediately assume that people from distant far off lands are very different from ourselves. Farmers, families, students, businessmen, friends; all of these things will be found no matter where you go. I know that this is not earth shaking or even all that insightful but it kept occurring to me as I continually had the same conversation with folks who asked me in a slightly breathless tone, “Sooo, how was Libya? Weren’t you scared?”

I come from a very small town and the people there, including my family, couldn’t even fathom going to Libya. When I told them where I was going many of them immediately thought I meant Lebanon and asked if I were crazy. When I explained that Libya is in Africa and over a thousand miles away from Libya they still seemed a little suspicious and wondered why I would want to go to a Muslim country. I guess that’s really my more salient point. While I am sure that most folks in America fully understand that people in the U.K., Canada, Mexico, and even France are all basically the same as us. When it comes to Muslim people living in a Muslim land we expect them to be completely at odds with the things that we believe and cherish. From my admittedly extremely limited experience this does not seem to be the case. While we can be at odds over many things, I think at our core we are all very similar. As I already said, I know this is not particularly ground breaking or even all that insightful but perhaps it is something we need to think about more often. People are people and life is life and in the end most of us are just trying to get by.