Meeting Walid, eating cherries and saj

Hi All,
To continue our journey through the mountains, and in search of the illusive remaining Cedars of Lebanon. There is a large, old growth cedar grove that is a national preserve around here somewhere, but we seem to turn the opposite way at each intersection so we have yet to find this forest. Apparently, these trees are huge, like redwoods, and were used by the Phoenicians for ships, and exported throughout the known world until deforestation occurred. But more on that when we finally get to the Chouf Cedar Preserve some other day.
Our next village was Lalouk, another ski area in winter and small, somewhat ordinary town the rest of the year, known mostly for its cherry orchards. We were pretty sure we had completely missed the Cedars, so we decided to head toward the coast and stop along the way for a late lunch. The roads in this area are mostly paved, two lanes wide, no markings, few directional signs and those that exist are in Arabic, and somewhat bumpy. Having no map (!!!!), we weren’t exactly sure which road to take as we approached a four way crossroads, which suddenly had two cars approaching from the opposite direction at some speed. One, a PT Cruiser convertible, top down and jammed with 4 adults and 4 kids, stopped and the driver asked James in English if we were Americans. He said, “Yes, some of us are,” at which point we were invited to follow the driver and the car behind him to his house nearby, as his grandmother’s cherry trees were bursting with sweet fruit and he wished to share it with us. Of course we didn’t hesitate to follow this total stranger we just met at a rural intersection up ever narrowing and serpentine roads to his house…..motivated in no small way because he assured us he had a much needed bathroom we could use!
He said the house was 5 minutes away – Lebanese time, naturally – so about 15 minutes later we arrived at a modest house on a hilltop, surrounded by cherry trees. After introducing ourselves, our host is Walid Almaazi, and partaking of his most generous bathroom offer, we climbed a small hill to the orchard and started picking incredibly sweet cherries from the trees, eating until we couldn’t move. Charlie even engaged the girls in a seed spitting contest, wanting to share an important piece of American culture with the group.
The home belongs to Walid’s family, who has been there for generations. He is currently opening franchises of Foot Solutions shoe stores around the Middle East and planning the first Lebanon store launch in Beirut. His wife, Shiron, is Palestinian, and they have only been married since March. She is a business consultant in Dubai. The rest of the PT Cruiser occupants are friends and family, returning from a swim in the Mediterranean. The other car’s occupants are a famous Lebanese singer and her husband, who also were stopped by Walid on the road and invited to the orchard. They only stayed a short time and we didn’t remember their names, unfortunately.
I was able to talk with Walid about my Lebanese ancestry and he told me the Al Khazin family is a large, prominent, well-connected Lebanese family with a Cabinet Minister and Member of Parliament. “They are like the Kennedy’s in the US,” he said. Whoa! How do I find these people? He promised to ask his uncle, a retired Lebanese Army general who is an ancestry buff if he could assist.
After an hour or so of chatting, eating a ton of cherries, spitting seeds, politely declining coffee and asking for a restaurant recommendation, we followed Walid to a small roadside stand that contained a tiny grocery – maybe 4-5 shelves and a fridge –and a saj maker. Okay, time for another delicious treat I remember from my childhood, but have never eaten freshly made. Saj or manaqeesh is a handmade crepe-like treat filled with jibneh (a mild white soft cheese) or zaatah (a Lebanese spice made with oregano, sumac and a few mystery ingredients) in olive oil.
The proprietor, a friend of Walid’s, and I was beginning to wonder who wasn’t a friend of this gregarious guy, makes the saj in the traditional way. She takes the dough and forms it into balls, the size of a tennis ball. Then, with cigarette hanging from her lips, she works the dough in her hands until it is a flat circle about the size of a large dinner plate. She takes a round pillow, the size of the dough, and places the dough on the pillow, then slaps it, in one quick stroke, onto a domed cooker which is a charcoal brazier with a domed lid. As the dough quickly cooks, she starts the next saj, then returns to the hot dome and spreads your choice of filling onto the browning dough. I had half jibneh, half zaatah. She carefully removed the saj, rolled it with waxed paper and passes it to you. OMG, it was sooooo good!
We dragged plastic tables and chairs across the road to catch the sun, plates of fresh tomatoes, cucumber and mint appeared and we sat, ate, talked and watched the assortment of vehicles roll by – soldiers, more friends of Walid, weathered farmers on tractors and a guy in a car/wreck with no windshield, one door, and a rust exterior – I have photos.
After our lunch respite (about 4 p.m.), we followed Walid down the mountains toward the coast. Good thing, too, as it was circuitous route, with lots of forks, turns and crossroads. We all agreed we would have taken several wrong roads if left on our own. We passed through several small, picturesque villages, but since Walid apparently went to the same nascar-style driving course as James, we only saw blurry images whiz by the car windows. We reached the coast near Byblos in time for rush hour, and worked our way home through the stroke-inducing traffic. As a treat for making it almost up the mountain without need of an ambulance, we stopped for gelato to top off our amazing day.
Can you imagine anything remotely like this happening in the US? I feel a bit like we are cruisers again – the same friendly, open people welcoming us into their lives, even for just a few hours as we pass through.
Can’t thank you all enough for the great feedback. I did see almost all of your comments finally showing up on the blog, so keep them us, but send me e-mails too! Looks like we might be staying another week as the boat projects keep multiplying and I keep encouraging Charlie to work as slowly as possible!

Love to all,
Lari