A Look in at the Jibrail Center (A Reportage)

Come, reader, look in with me at the "Jibrail Center"... But before we set out, I want to ask you an inquisitive question! What does "Jibrail" mean to you? Do you think this name belongs "to a man," as I thought the morning I first heard it? — and learned afterward that it is the name "of a village"... No! Not in Syria... but here, in our own country, in the district of Akkar!! It lies no more than forty-five minutes by car from where I live! Blessed be the geography lessons I was taught at school! — which made me memorize by heart most of the cities and villages of the continents of Europe and America, while of the cities and villages of my own country I know but little... or next to nothing at all!

After this introduction you may ask: and what is the point of your "look" at the Jibrail Center? I answer: for no reason other than that you are a citizen of this country; and I shall try to tell you, through these lines, a delightful tale whose events and experiments are still unfolding at this center — the tale of bringing life back to the village! And because you, like me, realize what our villages suffer of stagnation, and of the migration of strong arms away from them, whether overseas or to the cities. And because you know the importance of the village in production. And, finally, to say to you: the ink set down on paper is of no use unless it passes into practical execution. The speeches and the reports on what the village suffers and on raising its standard — all of them avail nothing unless they are brought into being. This center was an idea; the idea took flesh and became a small work at the beginning, and it is still growing and getting bigger day by day, for no purpose but to restore confidence to the bewildered, toiling soul, tormented on the land — the land that cannot be done without, though many are ignorant of how to make it yield and how to work hand in hand with it.

And now, after this philosophizing, which may please you or may not, let us walk on and enter the center a little before sunrise, to watch and listen to what goes on there... There — the bell rings; the valleys echo its peal; the sparrows fall silent, then dart far off into space... and at the Jibrail Center the daily activity begins. And what is this activity? Here, in the girls' school, the "house mother" has risen — every house has a teacher responsible for a number of students, called the house mother — together with some of the students, and they have begun preparing breakfast. And over there, in the boys' school, the students are up with the head of the center, preparing fodder for the animals and learning how to care for them and feed them.

And there — the bell rings a second time! Along the walkways you see the teachers striding briskly and with determination, as if to battle. And this battle is none other than the battle of breakfast! Everyone has sat down at a single table — women teachers and men teachers, girl students and boy students — eating and talking and sometimes laughing with a pure village innocence, in a happy family atmosphere free of affectation or ceremony. And here they are, going back to finish their work before classes begin. The girls turn to managing the affairs of the house under the supervision of the house mother, and the young men return to putting the farm in order and running it. The bell rings a third time, calling everyone to class. Each goes off to his own classroom: the girl trains in most of the branches of household management, so as to be a mother and a queen in the running of her home's affairs — neither a slave nor a burden on others; and the young man learns the principles of the art of agriculture, so as to know how to work hand in hand with his mother the earth, from which he has so long tried to flee, turning away from her service.

In this stillness that clothes everything, you hear a chirping like the chirping of goldfinches; but you soon see that it is a bouquet of small children playing in their little house with their various toys, and through them learning from an early age, and from one another, that life is give and take.

Let us walk a little way toward this building, to see the looms, behind which sits a group of girls learning simple weaving. For a single hour the girl comes to this place, and in this way she learns a kind of handicraft and fills her free time with something fruitful; and out of the proceeds of this work of hers a part of her fees takes shape, so that she saves her family a great deal.

And to this little oven a group of the girl students comes with a teacher twice a week to "roll out" the bread thin. A teacher and a pupil take part in the baking of it. Often the voices of these students rise in songs of every kind — popular songs, anthems, and spiritual hymns. In this family atmosphere formality is lifted, and the teacher comes to know the students' inner selves, and the inclinations and dreams that turn in their heads; and this helps her to understand them better, and so to guide and direct them.

On Thursday evening, after supper, you see most of the students, girls and boys, astir. They are preparing to hold a family evening, at which talents and inventions come to light. At these evenings the preservation of the rural heritage is encouraged — popular dabkes, village songs, and short playlets in which the spirit of the jest usually shines through; and often these playlets aim at teaching and cultivating in an indirect way.

These are fleeting glimpses of what goes on at the "Jibrail Center." Would that you, reader, might manage a visit to Akkar, to become acquainted with the Jibrail Center with your own eyes and not your imagination, and to grasp the stages it has passed through — and still passes through — and the many crises it has overcome by diligence, work, and patience... And for all this, whoever comes to this center loves it and feels he has become a part of it, accepting no substitute for it — unless it be for the sake of a broadening of learning and knowledge.

The "Jibrail Center" is an excellent model of the rural centers that lift the life of the village toward a better society... It is, as I said before, the tale of bringing life back to the village...