BEIRUT: Across the country, tens of thousands of teachers went on strike Wednesday to protest against ongoing political stagnation.
Across Beirut, with most schools closed, students and parents alike made the most of the day off. Outside ABC mall Wednesday morning, Carol was flanked by her two sons. Wajih, on her right, reported his age as 12, but Carol said he is really 11-and-a-half. On her left was Jad, age 8.
Students at the Grand Ecole Franco-Libanais, Wajih and Jad both had the day off and Carol said it was a break for her too “because I don’t work so I can sleep late in the morning [when there is no school]. I think for those who work it’s hard, but for me it’s one day off … it’s great.”
Both her sons were on their way to visit friends, and Carol said that “the only bad thing about the day off is I become a chauffeur.”
In Hamra near the American University of Beirut, 16-year-olds Chirine, Mouna, and Sur were affected differently by the strike.
A student at the Hariri School, Mouna said school was in session Wednesday but ended early for reasons unrelated to the strike.
“Every time that every other school doesn’t have school, we do. It’s normal. If we don’t have school they add another day to our usual schedule.”
Sur and Chirine had the day off because of the strike, and had come to Hamra to meet Mouna. The three planned to walk around the area and perhaps see a movie later in the day.
The “day off” attitude of parents and students was at odds with the announced aims of the one-day work stoppage, which was aimed at encouraging politicians to form a new government, and address the deteriorating socio-economic situation, according to union officials.
A union coordinating body called the strike a “success,” but warned that government inaction on prices, especially food and fuel, might necessitate further protests.
For his part, Caretaker Education Minister Hassan Mneimneh said Wednesday the strike was a “cry by civil society against the political vacuum in the country,” calling the protest “national” and not “demand-related.”
But for students the distinctions and the rhetoric were largely irrelevant.
Sur, a month away from her exams, said: “We don’t care [if the strike achieves its aims]. We are just happy about the fact that it is a break for us, because we’re very tired. We need a day off. We don’t sleep. We have school every day except for Sundays, so we need to sleep.”
Nisrine, also in Hamra with her sons Nidal and Hazem, 5 and 7, said that “the teachers have a right to strike. They have to try, but nothing will change. This is Lebanon.”
Despite the humid weather, at Sanayeh Gardens in the early afternoon Karim and Adam were locked in a two-two draw against a team of two boys named Jad, with Allah in goal. Fifteen minutes into their football match, Adam said they planned to play for two more hours.
The boys, ages 10-5, attend various Beirut schools. They all said decisively that they do not like school and were happy to have a chance to play an extended game of football.
Among them were two future engineers, one doctor and a computer scientist. Ten-year-old Jad, a foot shorter than the other players, was undecided about his career plans but the bigger Jad said the smaller should be a policeman.
At least one student in Beirut was not all smiles about the day off. In Sassine Square, Roy, 11, an aspiring engineer, was accompanying two of his sisters to visit a third sister and her husband. He said he likes school because “I like to see my friends and have fun with them … and I like English class.”