SimpleHeadline

Squeezing complicated lives into a simple headline.

Saying “I Do” at LAU

It is hard to miss her skintight pants, high heels and flashy BlackBerry. Sarah, as she asked to be called, is a common sight at LAU and other university campuses in Beirut.

“I transferred here a while back,” she said. “I don’t care about what I major in, I just want a degree.”

Sarah said that she is happy at LAU but her parents do not share her joy. “My mother is always telling me I should find ‘ibn il-halal’ [the right man] before graduating,” she said.

Sarah claimed that she has been proposed to, formally and informally, at least a dozen times.

Recent studies have shown an increase in the number of women continuing their education. The Institute for Women’s Studies in the Arab World reported that 6141 women have graduated from LAU from the years 1924 till 1978. “[Women] came from neighboring nations to study here,” Anita Nassar of the IWSAW said.

“My mother always reminds me to finish my education in case my husband dies or abandons me,” Darine, an English major said. “I want to make sure I’ll be well off without him.”

Khaled Nasser, doctor of interpersonal communication, explained that education in this context is a social necessity for women as it helps them protect themselves against all odds.  A degree helps women stand on their own in case something happens to their husbands, he said. At the same time, education may help women get the better husbands.

“I’ve been engaged twice in the past five years,” Rima, a recent LAU graduate, said. “I met both of my ex-es on campus.”

Rima recently started her own business in Beirut. “I make my own money, and I don’t plan on getting married anytime soon,” she confidently said. “My family insists on me to get married, I plan on marrying a naa’nou’ (someone weak).”

Walaa Tabaja, a business student, met her husband at LAU. “He’s awesome,” she exclaimed. ”He [her husband] wants me to continue my education and get my masters.”

Tabaja’s parents approved of her getting married on the condition she finishes her degree. She and her husband take education very seriously and will enter the business world together. “Most girls don’t,” she asserted.

Sitting confidently on campus, Sarah still lurks behind her cigarette smoke. With her trusty ‘BB’ in the other hand, she waits for potential suitors. “Until I say I do, you can look but you can’t touch,” she smiled.

Disabled Access on LAU Campus

Emily, an education senior with a disability, fell down on her first day of classes. She hurt her finger and required medical attention. “No one moved and they kept blocking the stairway up to Nicol Hall,” she said.

Rarely does an accreditation board examine access for the disabled in a university. It does not mean, however, that the disabled should remain overlooked when major campus makeovers are taking place.

“Students here are cruel,” Emily said. “I’m always late to my classes because [capable] students use the elevator and I can’t use the stairs.”

Due to the limited size of LAU’s Beirut campus where over few thousand students attend classes, gathering hotspots crowd building entrances and stairways. Many students lounge in the stair area in front of Nicol and Sage Halls, two major classroom buildings.

“We require applicants to fill out a health form stating their disabilities,” Nada Badran, admissions director said. “This is to better serve them.”

 The university admission’s council studies each case on its own, according to Badran. Some applicants might be rejected due to their disabilities when LAU is unable to cater to their needs.

Samira Aghacy, dean of arts and sciences, complained about the “social decadence” at LAU. “It’s surprising to see such young and healthy people using the elevator; I don’t use it at my age,” she explained.

Aghacy said she reprimands students who abuse the Nicol Hall elevator regularly. “If a student is wearing high heels to class, then of course she won’t be able to climb the stairs,” she said.

Students asked to explain why they use elevators refused to comment on the record.

“I’ve never seen a [disabled] person on campus,” Aya Dabbous, finance and banking senior, said. Dabbous argued that this could be the reason why students overuse elevators.

“[Disabled students] are unfortunate when the elevators, especially in Nicol Hall, are abused by students,” Raed Mohsen, dean of students, said. When the elevator is crowded, it makes Nicol Hall inaccessible to disabled students.

“There was a time when the registrar used to assign ground floor classes for disabled students,” Mohsen said. “We’re going to be reinstating this soon, hopefully before spring registration.”

According to Mohsen, LAU has undergone major improvements to disabled students access during the past decade. The upper and lower campuses are now linked via a ramp in the vicinity of Sage Hall. “We are working on bigger plans,” Mohsen revealed. “Nicol and Sage are going to undergo major renovations in a few years, and we’re definitely going to have disabled access available.”

Until the renovations take place at LAU, Emily will be dogging students blocking the way to her classes. “I’m happy that I didn’t have classes during elections day because it would have been impossible for me to move,” she said.

Organic ‘Souk’ Turns Lebanon Greener


The smell of bread mingles with that of fresh basil and spinach pastry. Two children in colorful dresses hang by their mother’s side as she chooses oranges and apples. A woman in a simple black dress graciously offers “kaak,” Lebanese pastry, with thyme to whoever likes to have some.

Many Mediterranean countries are famous for their cuisines and Lebanon ranks top on that list.

“Loubnan Al-Akhdar,” or Green Lebanon in English, acquired its nickname from its lavish green fields, translating into produces whose reputation spans through the entire region.

This tradition continues to blossom today with Souk el Tayeb, promoting the rise of organic farming.

The Souk, or marketplace, grew during the past six years from a small farmers’ market to a national organization working to promote and preserve Lebanese food and culinary traditions, rural heritage and natural environment.

Souk el Tayeb is a place where both producers and consumers meet every Saturday and Tuesday in Beirut.

The Souk’s website describes the market as more than “just a place to sell and buy, but much more than that, sharing believes and acting for a better life and a better world.”

Souk el Tayeb manages to bring a breath of nature’s fresh air to the busy metropolis.

“Having an open-air market selling organic produce is wonderful for Lebanon,” Rana Hamadeh, an agricultural engineer said. “The benefits of this kind of farming do wonders for the economy.”

Hamadeh believes that people living in Lebanon can benefit a great deal from the Souk. “It’s not just good produce and farming they are promoting, but rather a way for mutual coexistence with each other and with nature,”she said with a smile.

The Souk sells fresh organic produce and offers a variety of “mouneh,” or conserved products. Baked sales and traditional Lebanese foods are also available for purchase.

“I think Souk el Tayeb promotes awareness and not just organic farming,” Souheil Abou Zolof, a businessman on a visit to Lebanon, said. “I buy from there because I want to support my country in becoming green.”

Abou Zolof said that he regularly buys fresh produce from Souk el Tayeb every time he visits his home country. He believes in a “greener Lebanon that does not depend on fake produce.”

Souk el Tayeb cancels the middleman in sales. Unlike supermarkets, the Souk allows all producers, farmers, bakers or cooks to sell their own products. It establishes a direct contact between producer and consumer, allowing dialogue between Lebanese people living in different areas.

While most city dwellers and farmers see the advantage of the Souk, some argue otherwise.

“I’m for the advancement of Lebanon, but overpriced vegetables is not the solution,” Abou Khalid, a farmer from Oursal, said. “I can smuggle better quality vegetables into the country, call them ‘organic’ and sell them cheap.”

Abou Khalid, who refused to state his full name, expressed concern regarding Souk el Tayeb. He said that with absence of a proper authority to regulate farming in Lebanon, organic farming might not have a future.

Despite the skepticism, Souk el Tayeb remains popular and still draws hefty crowds every Saturday and Tuesday.

What is Communication Shutdown?

Communication Shutdown

This is a global fundraiser for autism. Can you get by without using Facebook or Twitter, just for one day?

It’s a global initiative to raise much-needed funds for autism groups in over 40 countries. By shutting down social networks for one day on November 1, we hope to encourage a greater understanding of people with autism who find social communication a challenge.

For more info visit the website or click here.