Vial of Tears, page 28
A big one—glossy and black—standing on its hind legs. She paddled closer until she could see that its eyes were flat and dead. It gnawed on its nails as it stared directly at Sam as if to say I see you.
AUTHOR’S NOTE
Growing up, every Sunday, we went to my grandparents’ house for dinner. It was a standing invitation, an expectation. A usual gathering meant about twenty of us, a small group by Lebanese standards. My grandfather was one of ten; my grandmother was one of thirteen. All told, my father had seventy-four first cousins. Some still lived in Lebanon, others had emigrated to Australia, while many were near enough to make our gatherings swell to fifty, a hundred, or more. (There were six hundred guests at a recent family wedding, where we danced the dabke and feasted on twenty-five hundred grape leaves, which our family hand-rolled.)
I grew up watching my grandfather play shesh-besh, learning how to pinch dough around dumplings for shish-barak with yogurt broth, and listening to Arabic (a familiar song to my ears, and yet regrettably, I’ve learned very little). Over the dinner table, stories were often shared about “the old country”:
How my grandfather hurled stones at wolves or jackals when they came too close to the flocks of goats and sheep.
How a few village girls went to the mountain spring for water too early one morning, before daybreak, only to be greeted by a pack of hyenas. They scared them off by sparking stones together, or so the story goes.
How locusts left a swath of dead trees and crops.
And perhaps the most heartbreaking… how my grandfather backtracked home in the dead of night so he could tuck in his younger siblings one last time before setting off for America. On his way out of the house, he scooped a layer of fresh labneh from a pot on the stove, to leave a sign that he had been there. A final goodbye.
The stash of coins is based on a real collection my great-grandfather Assad found in his mountain village, Karm El Mohr, in about the year 1954. The coins may have been in a cave, but others say they were unearthed while someone was digging in a garden, and yet another version claims the coins were discovered when the family was building the foundation for a home. All three of these versions might be true; the coin collection may have accumulated over a period of time, and not all at once. My brother, who extensively researched the collection, speculates that the coins were buried about AD 260 by Roman soldiers or traders. There might have been an urn at one time. The coins were said to have been divided among whoever was present when the urn finally came out of the ground nearly two thousand years later. We still have what eventually became my grandfather’s portion. Of those fourteen coins, all are Roman except for the oldest, which was minted approximately between 121 BCE and 96 BCE, which my brother finally, painstakingly identified as Greek. But since it remained a mystery for the longest time… I, of course, imagined it was a magical Phoenician coin.
My father loved to talk about Middle Eastern politics, history, and the Phoenicians. After he passed away in 2008, I inherited one of his books, Peoples of the Past: The Phoenicians by Glenn Markoe, which I have now read from cover to cover, more than once. The Phoenician civilization existed from approximately 3200 BCE until 332 BCE, when Alexander the Great conquered the city of Tyre and the region fell to the Greeks.
The Phoenicians were famous for their purple dye, their mastery of the sea, and their trade in majestic cedar trees. Ironically, even though the Phoenicians are generally given credit as the inventors of the modern alphabet, nearly none of their literary records survived the ravages of war, weather, and time. The inscription in chapter eleven, one of the precious few examples we have of Phoenician script, was taken from an Egyptian-made sarcophagus of Eshmunazar II. Unearthed in 1855 near Sidon, it is now on display at the Louvre.
Historians and archaeologists have surmised that the Phoenicians lived in independent city-states, and for each, there was a god or goddess. Ba’alat Gebal’s name means “Lady of Byblos.” Eshmun, the god of healing, was associated with Sidon. Melqart was the god of the island city Tyre. Chusor was a craftsman god, Ba’al Hammon was the god of plants and agriculture, Ba’al Saphon was a storm god, Ba’al Shamem was the lord of the heavens, Ēl was the supreme deity and father of all gods, and, last but not least, Môt was the god of death.
I did my best to stay true to the materials the Phoenicians would have used; the food and animals they might have had; and the scope of their region, which is modern-day Lebanon with some exceptions, such as Cyprus and Carthage, and other far-flung trading colonies. I drew from many sources of inspiration, including the story of Prince Cadmus, who planted dragon teeth. The quest through Marid’s cave was written after learning about the Jeita Grotto, which is a breathtaking labyrinth of underground caves and water; archaeologists believe it was the location of an ancient foundry where swords were made. Despite the countless hours of research I did, there are undoubtedly details that an expert might question. I also took some liberties with Lebanese geography and topography, so if you plan on walking from Baalbek to Sidon, or sailing from Sidon to Cyprus, please don’t use my book as your map.
The Phoenician language in this novel is one I invented for my characters. It’s an uneven mash-up of Classical Syriac, Ancient Ugaritic, Aramaic, and a little Arabic thrown in for good measure. If you are an expert in ancient Middle Eastern languages, you have my sincerest apologies.
Helena is based on a real person (by the same name) who was a friend of my grandparents. She was abducted from her Lebanese mountain village (then Syria and a part of the Ottoman Empire). Even though she was already married, Helena was forced to wed her captor, and she had two children by him. One day she saw the opportunity to escape and did so, leaving her children behind. She made her way, despite hyenas, wolves, and difficult terrain, back to her native village. Once home, she found that a friend was about to leave for the United States, and he was able to smuggle her as a stowaway. When Helena’s abductor came looking for her, the villagers accused the man of a ruse, saying he must have killed her. Finally, after years apart, she was happily reunited with her first husband, who had come earlier to the United States. Helena grieved her whole life for the two children she had left behind.
FOOD FROM THE BOOK
These recipes represent over a hundred years of Bishara family history. Generations of Bishara women have cooked the cuisine of Lebanon and passed on their traditions, customs, and recipes. Each recipe is taken from the family cookbook.
BAKLAVA
2 lb fillo (strudel) leaves
2 lb butter (half can be margarine)
4 cups ground walnuts
1 cup sugar
Syrup (Attar):
Makes enough for 3 pans of baklava
5 lb sugar
7 cups water
Juice of 1 lemon
Directions
Make the syrup by boiling the sugar and water over low heat for about 1 hour or until candy thermometer reads 220º. Then add the lemon juice and let cool thoroughly before using.
Render (clarify) the butter and keep warm but not hot. Discard the solids. Brush the clarified butter generously in a cookie pan with sides, 18 ½ to 19 inch x 15 inch x 1 ¾ inch deep. Lay a leaf of dough on the pan and brush a taplespoon of butter as evenly as possible over the dough. Continue in this manner until there are 25 layers of buttered dough. Keep the dough from drying out while you work with it by covering the unused leaves with a damp dish towel and by working as quickly as possible.
Combine the ground nuts and sugar and spread evenly over the top of the 25 layers. Gently press down the nut mixture to compact it a bit. Then place a leaf over the nut mixture, butter it, and continue with layers until there are 20 buttered layers. Cut into diamond shapes with a sharp knife. Put more clarified butter in the areas that look dry, like around the edges of the pan. Cover with aluminum foil and bake in a preheated oven at 325º for about 45 minutes. Then uncover and bake another 15 minutes or until golden brown. Gently lift up a corner to make sure the bottom crust is lightly browned. Remove from the oven and cool. Then drizzle 3 cups of the syrup over the baklava. Later, if the baklava is still a little dry, add more syrup. Leftover syrup can be stored in a jar for several months. To serve, cut through the baklava diamonds in the pan and place each one in paper pastry cups.
KHUBZ (LEBANESE PITA BREAD)
12 cups flour
2 tbsp. salt
2 tbsp. sugar
4 cups warm water
⅔ cup milk
2 tbsp. oil
2 env. dry yeast or ½ cake yeast
Directions
In a large plastic mixing bowl, make a well of the flour, salt, and sugar. Dissolve yeast in warm water; add milk and oil. Pour into well and mix well. Then knead until dough comes off hands and sides of bowl. Do not overknead or the dough will be tough. Form into a large ball and make the traditional “sign of the cross” in the dough. Oil the top of the dough lightly and cover with clean plastic wrap and clean dish towels. Place in a warm area and let rise for approximately 2 hours.
When dough has risen, punch down and separate the dough evenly into 8 balls about the size of a large orange. Place on clean tablecloth on the table and cover again with clean dish towels and plastic wrap to rest for about ½ hour to 45 minutes. Then pat down a ball of dough, using a rolling pin to roll out evenly and form a flat, even circle about 10 inches in diameter. Place back on the tablecloth and cover while you roll out the remaining dough balls.
Preheat the oven to 450º and bake on the middle rack, 1 loaf at a time. Lightly brown 1 side. The bread will puff up like a pillow. Do not puncture. This is what makes the pocket. Do not brown too much. Turn over and brown the other side. When cold, place in plastic bag and freeze.
LEBANESE LAMB STEW
Serves 4–6
1 ½ lb lamb (leg of lamb), trimmed and cubed
4–5 medium potatoes
1 medium onion, chopped
2–3 cups water
1 tbp. salt
½ tsp. pepper
½ tsp. cumin
6 tbsp. butter (do not substitute margarine)
Directions
In a stainless steel pan (4–6 quart size), brown lamb meat (diced into ¾-inch pieces) in butter. Add onion to lamb meat while browning. Add peeled and quartered potatoes to meat; add salt and spices. Cover with water and bring to a boil. Taste and adjust seasonings. Reduce to medium heat and cover. Cook approximately 10–15 minutes until potatoes are cooked. Enjoy with fresh Lebanese bread. Delicious on a cold winter day.
CUSA-IB-LABAN
Makes 20 cusas
Use small cusa about 6 inches long. (Small, smooth-skinned light green squash, similar to zucchini.) Wash, dry, and trim off end of stem. Hollow the cusa with a special tool used for this purpose. Can be bought at Middle Eastern specialty stores.
Stuffing mix:
2 cups long-grain rice, washed and drained
3 lb chopped lamb or lean ground beef (preferably lamb)
1 tbsp. salt
½ tsp. black pepper
½ tsp. cumin
½ tsp. garlic powder or 1 medium clove fresh garlic, chopped
Wash rice and squeeze out excess water; place in large mixing bowl. Add chopped meat, salt, pepper, cumin, and garlic. In a small saucepot, lightly brown ½ cup pine nuts in ¼ lb butter or margarine (stir often while browning to avoid burning pine nuts). Add butter and pine nuts to the rice, meat, and spices. Mix thoroughly. Add more seasoning if desired. Stuff each cusa to within ½ inch of lip. Cook in laban sauce.
Laban sauce:
2 qt. laban (plain yogurt)
3 tbsp. flour
1 egg, beaten
1 tbsp. salt
1 ½ qt. cold water
In a large 8-quart saucepot, mix laban, flour, egg, and salt. Beat well with electric beater until creamy. Add cold water and beat well. Place on stove to boil, stirring often. Mix will curdle if this is not done. When it boils, drop the stuffed cusas in and cook over low flame for at least 25 to 30 minutes. This is a favorite meal—well worth the effort—and serves 7 to 8.
LAHAM MISHWEE
Use leg of lamb which has been boned, trimmed of excess fat, and cubed into 1-inch to 1 ½-inch cubes. Do not use shank portion because it has too much muscle and gristle. Thread onto skewer (either stainless steel or bamboo skewers will do). Salt well and cook over hot charcoal or gas grill. Cook until medium or well done, according to taste.
Variations: Onion pieces, tomato, and quartered pieces of pepper may be used between meat for a very good flavor. Soften the pepper and onion before putting on skewer by pouring boiling water over or microwaving about 1 minute. They will not break if you soften.
LEBANESE STUFFED GRAPE LEAVES
1 cup rice
1 ½ lb lamb (leg of lamb), trimmed and chopped fine
(Lamb meat can be ground on large chopper, in grinder, or cut finely)
½ tsp. cumin (ground)
½ tsp. ground black pepper
½ cup pine nuts
½ cup butter or margarine
½ tsp. garlic powder
1 tsp. salt (to taste)
2 medium garlic cloves (chopped)
3–4 sprigs mint leaves
1 green onion
¼ cup lemon juice (or lemon juice from 2 lemons)
75 grape leaves (approx.)
Directions
Wash rice and squeeze out excess water; place in large mixing bowl. Add chopped meat, salt, pepper, cumin, and garlic powder. In a small saucepot, lightly brown the pine nuts in the butter or margarine (stir often while browning to avoid burning pine nuts) and add butter and pine nuts to the rice, meat, and spices. Mix thoroughly with your fingers.
Spread grape leaves flat with stem facing you and smooth side facing down. Place approximately 1 teaspoon mixture (more or less according to size of leaf) width-wise across widest part of grape leaf. Roll leaf away from you after firming mixture into a roll and tuck in each side of grape leaf and continue to roll. Squeeze rolled grape leaf gently to help firm the filling and distribute it evenly. Line a large 6-quart stainless steel pot with aluminum foil and layer rolled leaves in alternate directions for each layer to facilitate even cooking. Fill pot with rolled grape leaves, place whole green onions, mint leaves, and chopped garlic on top of leaves; cover with water and a heavy dinner plate. Bring to a boil and lower heat to medium and simmer for 20 minutes. Add lemon juice and cook for additional 15 minutes.
MY FAMILY IN PHOTOGRAPHS
My great-grandfather, Assad, who unearthed an ancient coin collection in his village of Karm El Mohr, Lebanon
My great-grandfather, Assad
My great-uncle Bashir
My great-aunt Mamie (l.); grandfather, Norman (c.); and Hanna Jabbour (r.), taken circa 1926
My great-uncle Hanna and his wife, Adra
My grandfather, Norman Bishara (l.), with Hanna Marroun, taken circa 1926
My great-uncle Hanna
My cousin Georgette Dib; my great-uncle Hanna; and my father, John Bishara
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
First of all, thank you, reader, for choosing this book. If you’ve come this far, you’ve followed Sam’s epic journey to the very end. Years ago, when I started jotting down a few little story ideas, I had no idea where this labyrinth of a plotline—a hero’s journey—would lead. But what I truly didn’t expect was the depth of my own journey, which came from researching my Lebanese heritage. Like Samira and Rima, I’m half Lebanese, but it’s a very big half. A treasure trove of precious memories and details of my family are nestled in the lines of this story. (My grandfather used to crack walnuts with his bare hands, like Teth, for example; and writing about the food brought back the intensely redolent aromas of my grandmother’s kitchen.) I hope you enjoyed being immersed in this rich and beautiful world as much as I did.
My goodness.… I asked so many questions! Thank you to the legions of generous and wonderful people who patiently fielded them. To my family! Big hugs to every aunt and cousin who filled in details about our family’s village in the Lebanon Mountains, the story of Helena, and our family’s ancient coin collection. Thanks to my brother, Matthew Bishara, who was a captain in the U.S. Army and was twice deployed to Iraq, for helping me with the details of Sam’s dad's military life. My brother also researched the coins, one of the original points of inspiration for this book. It took an intercontinental team of Assad’s grandchildren and great-grandchildren to locate and reproduce his portrait photo shown above, which is hanging on the wall of a family home in the mountains of North Lebanon. Endless gratitude to Pierre Bechara, Mary Tannous, Violette Tannous, and George Tannous in Australia; Edy Bechara and Joseph Sukhun in Lebanon; and Chuck Bishara, Dolores Bishara, and Liz Yazbek Paris in the United States. Even more thanks to my aunt, Dolores Bishara, for helping me hunt down additional old family photos, and for taking the prologue to Sister Madeleine Iskandar at the Antonine Village in Youngstown, Ohio, for her to read and check my Arabic. Also thanks to Lina Fraifer, Charbel Dib, Roula Saab, and Marsha Elias for their help with Arabic and/or answering questions about Lebanon. And thank you to my mother, Judy Bishara, a skilled genealogist and our official family historian, who is always happy to research the most obscure bits of information.
Did you read a draft of this story along the way? Thank you! Especially Trish Doller, who read the entire manuscript at least twice, and who’s met me for many writing and brainstorming sessions (er, beers) over the years. Extra-enthusiastic hugs to Annie Gaughen, who generously dove in and sent margin notes (!), and who challenged me with a crucial question at one of our Florida beach writing retreats: “What’s the worst thing that could happen to your main character?” I jokingly replied, “I could kill her.” So—uh—I did. Also: Wendy Mills; Miranda Kenneally; Lorin Oberweger; Judy Bishara; and Karyn Fischer, who either read pages or patiently listened as I rambled on about character arcs, pacing, world-building, or plot threads. Sometimes the smallest nudge in the right direction was all I needed to keep going.
