The following is an account of our trip to the airport in Libya.
February 22, 2011
After spending the night camped in our classroom, we left the school about 12:10. We were booked on BMI flight 470 at 5:15 p.m. Mohamed our driver explained that he was just about out of gas but he thought he could make it to the airport and back. He informed us that all the gas stations were either closed or the lines where so long that it took hours to get gas. He had waited for two hours the evening before only to have the station close right when he got to the pumps. As we passed the first gas station on our way to the airport, sure enough, the lines were blocks long. This scene would be repeated as we passed two more gas stations. He told us that most Libyans had stocked up on plenty of food as soon as it seemed like there might be problems. He himself had enough food for several months. He thought, only bread and gasoline were going to be the main problem for most people in the near future.
This was the first time that we had ventured out since taking refuge in the school on the night that the conflict actually erupted in the capital of Tripoli. We had been following the uprising in Benghazi but the embassy had assured us that there was very little chance that the unrest would get very serious in our part of Libya. In the Taxi, my wife, six year old daughter and I were heading to the airport to catch a plane to Great Britain where we had friends. We were hoping at that time to return to work in a few days. I was nervous about traveling alone in the taxi with my family. I would have preferred traveling with one of the schools security guards or staying with the rest of the faculty as a group. We were advised that it was best to get out as soon as possible and that having a ticket and reservation was better than staying. Most of the other twenty or so teachers at the school were not able to book a flight until Wednesday. We thought that we were on of the lucky ones who were able to book a flight on Tuesday. We would later find out that we were not so lucky.
At the first check point the soldiers peered into the car and waived us through. I wasn’t even sure they were soldiers, but Mohamed assured me they were. He was ex-military himself and seemed to know how to get around. The soldiers had guns but were pretty much dressed in civilian clothes except maybe for a military beret or jacket worn my one or another of the 20 or so soldiers. It all seemed rather informal and not that threatening. I had been through Central America and Nicaragua during that conflict in the 80’s. In leaving Nicaragua to Honduras, the Honduran soldiers were very intimidating and threatening. The Libyan soldiers seemed polite and congenial by comparison.
That is one of the things I have always liked about Libya. The soldiers always seemed like they were trying to keep order and were more concerned about doing their job rather than threatening anyone. I would not hesitate to ask a Libyan soldier for assistance if needed; something I would be intimidated to do in other countries where the soldiers have more of an attitude. It always seemed that they didn’t want to inconvenience you anymore than necessary. Often they would just wave us through check points.
This is not to say that the military or the police in Libya are always friendly. There was a short period of time when I and a few teachers were pulled over at these check points. I had my car papers confiscated because I did not have a Libyan driver’s license but a friend was able to get it back without too much trouble. This practice only happened a couple of times. I had also experienced evenings where it appeared that there was an attempt to round up illegal immigrants. A few evenings we had witnessed large roadblocks were the soldiers appeared to be checking the papers of certain individuals and putting them in trucks. Those evenings were a little scary but they always waived our car through. The blue square and number on our license plate indicated that we were foreigners from the United States. The soldiers on these evenings had a much more serious expressions and I was glad that they did not ask me any questions.
This day on the way to the airport was bright and sunny and the temperature was cool but pleasant. It appeared that many shops were closed but on the other hand many were open. The traffic was lighter than usual. Everything appeared fairly normal except for the long lines at the gas stations that we passed. That day at that hour in that location, there was very little indication the country was in the beginnings of a violent struggle for change.
Mohamed explained that he was saddened by the whole state of affairs. His first comment was that the media was all lies. “The Libyan press, Al Jazeera, CNN, the television, do not tell the truth” he vehemently exclaimed. He further expounded that the Libyan TV “shows everyone happy and waiving Khadafy flags” and the foreign press was the worse; making it appear “like the whole country was falling apart”. Mohamed further explained that there had been some violence but that in Tripoli 70 to 80 percent of the people did not want the conflict. He explained that he did not approve of Khadafy but that “the blood” served no purpose. He said that maybe 20 years ago a revolution would have been an alternative but not now as the country and life for many was improving.
He didn’t see a swift end to the conflict. He said that Libya was different than Egypt. Khadafy would not go easily. That first night of trouble in Tripoli, February 22, a police station had been set afire and another government building burnt, but he did not feel this reflected a popular revolt. Even so he was very concerned where the conflict was going. He felt that the people who started it would not be able to stop. Once they began, they would have to see it through or Khadafy would hunt them down and kill them. He reiterated that Khadafy would not back down. He predicted that neither side could stop and that most people did not want the conflict. He repeated “They don’t want the blood”.
Nearing the airport, we passed a herd of sheep attended by an old woman holding a wooden staff and wearing a yellow dress and a white veil. The bright desert sun, deep blue Mediterranean sky, red sand and palm trees stuck between block houses surrounded by piles of plastic bags and other trash was a strangely beautiful and a typical scene demonstrating much of the incongruity and growth of modern Tripoli. The second and last check point was much more businesslike and the traffic slowed considerably. At this check point, the soldiers, still in civilian clothes and carrying automatic weapons, were searching the trunks of cars and trucks. Again when they saw that we were European or American, they waived us through the check point without any hassle.
As we approached the airport, Mohamed became very concerned. There were droves of cars pulling off to the side of the road and letting out their occupants. Mohamed said that things had changed considerably since this morning. The scene reminded me of the movie “Close Encounters” where people from all over congregated without knowing why waiting for something to happen. In this case it was very different. These people were afraid of what happen if they stayed. The hundreds of people converging on the airport were hoping for a flight that would take them to their home. Without internet and with all the phones being down, people who wanted to leave had to go to the airport to buy tickets. They had no choice, they were afraid, and they were desperate to get out of Libya.
My next entry will tell more of the early scene at the airport.
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