Besieged in Byblos.
One of the best things about traveling overseas is the relative safety of it. To be sure, you can find yourself in serious trouble, seriously life-threatening situations in any country and almost any city in the world. But you quickly learn to take precautions and to be wary.
While in Egypt, I befriended a guy who owned his own tours agency. He arranged to take us out into the western deserts nearer Libya. The area is potentially dangerous, so we had to have a military escort. Two jeeps with 12 soldiers went with us. Akram drove between them in our van; he had a sidearm and an automatic rifle between the seats. We didn’t have any problems, but without proper precautions, we might have had some.
In other countries, the military presence is everywhere. The feeling of safety is ubiquitous when there are armed soldiers on almost every corner and an APC, checkpoint, or tank stationed every few hundred meters.
In Damascus, we had our own “secret police” escort unrequested. There were two guys in civilian clothes who followed us everywhere. After having lunch at a sidewalk café, I casually walked over to them to give them the rest of our itinerary for the day. They just laughed and said thank you in perfect English. They then followed us the rest of the day and back to our hotel that night. No problem. This was just standard modus operandi back in the day.
Only once did I have a sense of possible danger, the feeling I was being set up and had become prey to possibly nefarious characters. This occurred in Byblos, not too very long after the civil war had ended thereabouts. Along with three other teachers, I was escorting a senior trip to the Eastern Mediterranean: For the students, this was three days of beachfront swimming and three days of snow skiing up in the mountains to the east. For the teachers, we took turns as chaperones and each had two days on our own to explore.
On this particular day, the kids all slept in past noon. They had been out drinking and dancing all night and crashed after sunrise. I didn’t go with them that night but stayed behind minding the few wallflowers back at the hotel. So on that day, one teacher stayed behind while we other three went out.
The driver took us into the old city and the other couple decided to check out the harbor castle and a few other things. I had seen enough castles already and we parted ways. I was more interested in walking the streets and meeting the local shopkeepers. As soon as Jeff and his wife Michelle walked away, I turned to see three shady looking guys who were watching me too intensely. I felt something was amiss.
To test my suspicions, I walked along the same street for about 50 meters before turning to pretend interest in an art store window. I was actually checking on their movements. Sure enough, these guys had followed me to the point where I had begun. When I stopped, they did and lit another cigarette each, continued to talk among themselves and pay far too much attention to me.
Okay, it was time for absolute clarity without getting myself killed or kidnapped. I next walked straight toward these three and said, “Bon jour,” as I passed them. They failed to reply, which told me they were not members of the local tourist bureau. I turned left at that corner where they stood.
Only twenty meters down that street, I stopped again to window shop. I saw them separate. One went left, one right, and the third stood watching me closely. They were obviously attempting to outflank me—left, right and from behind. This wasn’t good.
I casually strolled on, pretending to be unaware, …just some clueless foreign tourist exploring the ancient city and shops. This gave me plenty of opportunity to frequently stop, look around and see where these guys might be.
My “tail” was following, stopping whenever I did but never drawing nearer. I figured he was waiting for his friends who were circling to get ahead to cut me off and I was moving slowly enough that they did.
A few blocks ahead, the man who had gone right turned the corner and stopped, then the left guy showed. Maybe 100 meters distant, but it was clearly them. I ducked into the next café along that street. I did not stay to place an order nor eat.
This was mid-morning and the place was empty with only the owner sitting and talking to his old friend and regular customer near the front door. No, they didn’t introduce themselves, but I have seen this scene before.
I walked briskly through the dining room and kitchen then out the back door. It happened so fast, I doubt if these guys even paid me any mind. No one was in the kitchen.
Once outside, there was a second café across the street and I repeated this maneuver. I was now two blocks removed from my pursuers. Walking down a few meters, I found a more upscale restaurant with a doorman outside. This became my sanctuary and haven for the next couple of hours.
As I said, this was mid-morning, now 11:00, and by the time I had finished coffee and a light pastry the lunch crowd began to filter in. I had asked to be seated at a table for four, and because it was empty when I entered, I was so seated.
I had placed myself near the back, facing the door. I took my time and through the large window twice saw my nefarious villains walk past.
By now it was lunchtime. I ordered a meal, and the restaurant was full. Yet here I was sitting at a table for four alone.
Two attractive young ladies entered and there was nowhere to seat them. I swear, Lebanon must have some law that all their women must be pretty and have a great posterior region. Being me, I called over the restaurant manager and told him that these two ladies were welcome to join me at my table. Denise and Nicole were their names and they were charming, to be certain.
My buying them lunch was a small price to pay—especially since school was going to reimburse me.
Denise, Nicole and I left the restaurant together and they happened to be going my way. We three walked arm in arm in arm through the ancient city of Byblos until I bade them farewell when I got back to Jeff and Michelle who were waiting for me.
Denise was married and Nicole was engaged, no surprise. We never saw each other again. But guess who was standing there watching me, Jeff and Michelle as we hailed a taxi.
Yep, the three nefarious guys who had preyed upon me earlier that day. They looked at me with stone cold eyes. As the taxi pulled up, I turned to wave at them. Their apparent leader laughed aloud and gave me a salute yelling, “Good game. You win.”
Yes, foreign travel can be relatively safe, but any setting can present dangerous situations. Don’t forget to pack your smarts wherever you go.
Global English Tutor - Paul Cuadrado 