"The Woman's Voice" in the Home of Eva Malik — The Lebanese House in Washington

"Were I a foreign minister, I would pick my country's representatives 'on the sorting tray,' for political representatives who conduct themselves badly in society do harm to their countries."

The representative of The Woman's Voice put a few questions to Mrs. Eva Malik, wife of Lebanon's Minister Plenipotentiary in Washington, Dr. Charles Malik; Mrs. Eva answered the questions and sent her greetings to the dear readers.

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— What occupies your days most this winter?

— What occupies me most these days is entertaining. Every winter Washington comes down with the fever of entertaining. All the legations, embassies, and government and official bodies in this country try to discharge all their social duties at one stroke during the season, so as to be free in the other seasons for their many labors; then in summer they scatter to the summer resorts, and many of the diplomats return to their various countries. That is why you see the round of parties at its height this winter: luncheon and dinner invitations, teas and cocktails, musical parties and evening gatherings — and sometimes one of us has two or four engagements in a single day!

— And can you describe for me a specimen of one of your days?

— My dear, I have no single day that could serve as a model for the rest of the days; every day brings me new surprises I had not reckoned with.

— And who prepares these parties and arranges their appointments?

— The appointments for these parties are arranged by our secretary, who is entrusted with our social affairs at the Legation. She usually sends me, at the beginning of each week, a program containing that week's engagements, after we have conferred by telephone about accepting or declining each invitation, and about sending our own private invitations to our various friends.

(Mrs. Malik picks up this program from the table and, after casting a quick glance over it, says:)

— Take Monday, for example: I have only one engagement, in the afternoon, and since my husband is always asking me for an Arabic dish, I shall spend two hours in the kitchen before noon with Clara and prepare an Arabic dish...

— And who is this Clara?

— She is our cook, a black American woman of fifty. Like all American cooks she is skilled at roasts, broiled chicken, fish, and the making of certain sweets and cakes... She has the advantage over others of being of the old school, so her cooking is more finished; but like most cooks in this country, her artistry in this matter is very limited.

— And what does Clara say about our cooking?

— She marvels at stuffed grape leaves; as for raw kibbeh, she had never heard of it before!! She likes labneh and calls it "soft cheese," and she is trying to master mujaddara after I told her it was the dish of Esau that she reads about in the Old Testament — for she is a religious woman. But I thank my Lord for Clara: at the very least she prepares the ingredients for me and does the dishwashing, which I detest.

— And where did you come by this skill in cooking?

— Believe me, my dear, I learned most of it here in Washington, in the days of the Legation. When one of the varieties of our own food comes to mind, I ask one of my Lebanese friends in Washington, and she gives me the instructions over the telephone; I try — and succeed!

— And what comes after lunch?

— After lunch I have an appointment with a lady from a house-buying company, who is to show me a house for sale which, so she claims, would suit a legation. After a tour of the house on offer I did not find it suitable, because its price is beyond the limits of our budget. But we recently succeeded in buying a legation, and it will be one of the most beautiful legations in Washington...

And I shall tell the readers of The Woman's Voice about "the Lebanese House in Washington" as soon as we have finished the business of furnishing, which will take up most of my time in the coming three months.

— You said there is a single afternoon engagement on your program today; what is it?

— Yes — it is a cocktail party. My husband joins me at five o'clock from the office and we go to it; then we return to our house, and after dinner Charles withdraws to write an address he is to deliver before the philosophy department at Princeton University, while I sit down among my papers, answer some necessary local letters, and draw up the menu for the dinner party at our house the following day.

— And are you happy with this bustling social life — continual parties and official invitations?

— This social side of diplomatic life may look empty, and in truth it is so; but it is necessary in the life of representation, and these relations, when well conducted, have their precious value in acquainting countries with one another. There is no doubt, though, that its burden falls mostly on the shoulders of the representative's wife, for the representative himself cannot devote himself to it amid his many other responsibilities. That is why you find that when an ambassador happens to be unmarried, he asks a lady from among his relatives, or one of the ladies of his embassy, to be the official "receiving lady," and she is officially invited along with him. And when representatives conduct themselves badly in society, they do very great harm to the reputation of their countries... Were I a foreign minister, my dear, I would pick my country's representatives, great and small, "on the sorting tray!"

— Thank you, Mrs. Eva, for this delightful talk; do not forget The Woman's Voice — and until a second visit to "the Lebanese House in Washington," God willing...