“Matt Richards. Harvard.” Matt immediately noticed the limp handshake.
“That’s a pretty expensive camera you got there.”
“I’m a Geology major, but my real passion is photography. Dr. Mitchell is the head of the Geology Department and he already said I could use the darkroom any time. I’m looking forward to touring the entire country and taking pictures of the land and the people.” He caressed his camera. “You into photography?”
“Not really. But I’m looking forward to seeing your pictures.” Matt moved away slightly, uncomfortable at how close T.J. was sitting. “Think I’ll get a beer from the refreshment table. See you around.” Matt moved quickly across the room, nearly bumping into another student.
“If you can dribble a soccer ball and crash into people at the same time, then you’re just the guy I’m looking for.” He juggled his drink without spilling it. “My name’s Brian Walker, Berkeley.” Their handshake was firm and each recognized the other’s athletic abilities.
“Pele came to Harvard once, but saw me dribble, score from 75 yards out and he caught the first plane back to Brazil.” Matt grinned. “Name’s Matt Richards, from Harvard.”
“Okay, big shot. We’ve got a tryout with the AUB soccer team on Saturday. It should be fun. What’s your major?”
“Biology and Medicine. My dad’s a heart surgeon, and my older brother’s already in med school. So I’m next. What’s yours?”
“Political Science and official Berkeley radical. My dad’s a big corporate lawyer helping the fat capitalists exploit undeveloped countries.”
Matt threw up his hands. “I’m ready to play soccer and drink some beer. But if you want to talk politics, I’m the wrong guy.”
“Deal.” During the next several months at AUB, Brian, in spite of his outspoken political views on Vietnam and American ‘imperialism’, became an integral part of Matt’s school and social life.
“Who’s the gorgeous blond over there?” Brian asked, pulling Matt’s sleeve and pointing in the direction of three female students huddled together.
“Only one way to find out.” But his mind quickly centered on the thought of Maha, her red hair and green eyes. “I’m not a blond man. She’s all yours.” They walked up and introduced themselves, holding out fresh Amstel beers for the three women.
As they found out later, Susan Miller, a tall, blond-haired beauty from Michigan State was escaping an abusive boyfriend and indifferent parents and thought it would be interesting to spend a year in Beirut. She reminded Matt of the spoiled daughter of rich parents-he had met plenty of them during his two years at Harvard-but he liked her nonetheless. And Brian liked her even more. She and Brian became inseparable and formed a part of Matt’s regular group for weekend trips and skiing in the mountains above Beirut.
“Hi, my name’s Anne-Marie Khoury, from Boston College. We shared a taxi our first night, remember?” A dark-haired Middle Eastern looking young woman reached out for one of Matt’s cold beers. “Any man bringing cold beer is either a mind reader or a saint.”
“He’s neither,” said Brian, laughing. “He’s a Harvard man.”
Matt called over Todd Cummings, and they all sat down together. The official activities weren’t scheduled to start for another twenty minutes.
“Are you Lebanese, Anne-Marie?” asked Todd.
“Sort of.” She put down her beer. “My grandparents immigrated to America from Lebanon in the late 1800s. Thought I would come over here for my junior year. Curious I guess. I’m studying medicine and hope to become a doctor.”
“Me too. Guess we’ll be in several classes together.”
They exchanged light talk for a few minutes, then Anne-Marie began an emotional discourse on the plight of Palestinian refugees who had been relegated to living in squalid camps in southern Lebanon. “It’s a grave injustice. Their homes, their homeland, given to the Israelis by foreign decree, for God’s sake.”
“Ah. Sorry folks. Beer goes right through me. See you later.” When Matt looked back, Todd and Anne-Marie were deep into an animated discussion. He headed for the refreshment table. T.J. intercepted, his Nikon and flash swinging.
“Oh, Matt. This is Dr. Mitchell, the head of the Geology Department.” T.J. stepped back as Matt moved to the buffet table. “I was just telling him about you. He’s also one of the scuba diving instructors, so if you want to learn to dive while you’re here, he’s forming classes in two weeks.”
“Pleased to meet you, Matt.” He was overweight and gay. “Beirut is a remarkable place. It’s got some interesting terrestrial and marine geology. The Med’s like a bath tub and the marine life is spectacular.”
Matt smiled politely and begged off. He stuffed a rolled grape leaf into his mouth. Garlic and olive oil filled his senses. “This is going to be a more interesting year than I first imagined.”
Dr. Martin J. Thomas, advisor to the American students, stepped up to the lectern and welcomed the students to the American University of Beirut Junior Year Abroad Program. Matt moved into the large hall to listen.
“… after the welcome remarks by AUB President Dr. Samuel B. Kirkwood, we will be receiving the first of five lectures on the politics and economics of Lebanon and the Middle East by William Fisher of the U.S. State Department.” Matt turned and walked out. He grabbed another beer and sat down on the steps of College Hall. He’d wait for Fisher’s talk. A group of male Arabic students glared at Matt as they walked by. He smiled but they muttered something in Arabic and walked off.
When Matt wandered back into the large hall William Fisher, a tall, lanky man in his late 20’s strode up to the podium and began to speak. Matt found a seat among the other students.
“Most of you have never heard the word terrorist before. But by the time you’re in your forties, terrorism will be a household word and your worst nightmare.”
Thus began an hour and a half of the most riveting political and current affairs lecture Matt and the other students had ever experienced. William Fisher had a firm command of facts and drew conclusions about the future that, to his assembled audience of fresh-faced youth from America, were shocking and unsettling. Back home in America everyone believed the future would be both prosperous and safe, thanks to years of economic and technological superiority and the benefits of freedom and capitalism. Even now they were ridding Vietnam of the communists and preserving peace.
“The greatest threat to peace in the next two to three decades will be the sudden and prolific spread of refugee camps. Right now the center of attention seems to be on the Palestinian refugee camps in southern Lebanon, but in the years to come there will be more and more concentrations of uprooted people living in poor and squalid conditions. Recognized by no country, they will have no legal citizenship, no adequate representation, and no hope. This is the deadly mix that will spawn a massive rise in terrorism, and it won’t stop at regional boundaries-it will inflame the entire world.”
Matt looked around. Todd was sitting next to Anne-Marie, who was sitting rigid, engrossed in what was being said. On the other side of the room, Brian and Susan were whispering to each other. He had his arm around her.
“When young people have no hope, no dreams, no outlet for their desire to create something positive, then out of frustration and anger they will focus their energy on ways to destroy. Youth who grow up in crowded refugee camps are the perfect prey for sinister organizations around the world that wish to destroy any hopes of peace.
“And why would they want to destroy? For profit. They make money when peace is shattered and countries go to war.” Fisher took a drink of water and looked out at the fresh faces of America’s youth. “Who are these people? They are the international arms dealers, the suppliers of traditional as well as chemical weapons, and of course the armed mercenaries. And there are many shadowy organizations who stir up conflict to generate profit. By sponsoring regional and global terrorism, they can line their own pockets with millions and millions of dollars. They hold allegiance to no country, religion or political doctrine. Their only devotion is profit, their only allegiance, power.”