Day Two

Well, actually day one, as I arrived at night on Day One. 

Victor wakes me up like we've been siblings for years. He slides the dorm doors and peaks through the split. He's brushing his teeth as he says 'I'm going to Shatila'. He mumbles some hangover words and looks at me. Eyes wide open.

'I wanna go to Shatila too!'

'Ok, we're leaving in 15 minutes.'

He hasn't realised the depth of my excitement, but he was right on time. 

Shatila was familiar. The whole journey there was familiar. And I was experiencing it with people I had just met on Day One. Like Flora for example; who I thought was French for the entire bus ride to Shatila.

Easy, sunny, smooth walk into the heart of my teachings, Bukra Ilna. The place where I started teaching English and 'learning' Arabic.

The kids recognise me. I recognise them too. One by one. Glistering eyes and smiles of surprise overcome them. 

'Habibi!'

I call Foaz, one of the most mature and loving children. He looks at me with disbelief and overwhelm as his face turns into a huge smile of relief.

'Hello Habibi!'

Old photo of Foaz