Refugio County Press
Wednesday, May 25, 1966
Source: Linda Schuenemann, Granddaughter of Mrs.
Joe Sneed of Refugio.
Thank you, Linda, for sharing.
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MRS.
JOE SNEED REPORTS ON TRAVELS TO PARIS AND TRIPOLI By Mrs. Joe Sneed There are no sweeter
words to a traveler than “tell us about your trip.”
So an invitation from the paper was readily accepted. After
many misadventures, such as getting on wrong planes (even the CIA
can’t accomplish that!) and
having passports and visas gone astray, we boarded a plane out of New
York bound for Paris, France. You
literally fly into the dawn, which only a more gifted person than I
could describe - with the rising of the morning star and the rosy
cloudbanks. Since most of
you know Paris either from having been there or through reading, I will
not dwell too much except to say I was enchanted and enthralled.
“Paris In The Spring” cannot be exaggerated, as it was beauty
beyond description. On
the flight from Paris to Tripoli, Libya, my son (Charles Sneed) said
“It will be pretty much of an anti-climax”
but again I was completely taken in by all the strange sights and
sounds, some beautiful, some extremely ugly and some eerie.
Most people are unaware of Libya as a country, principally
because it is an almost new one, around ten years or so.
And until the discovery of the vast oil fields an extremely poor
one. There are still hordes
of poor such as we never see, at least in our part of the country.
They live in huts built of every imaginable scrap, from packing
crates to stray branches, with rocks piled on top to keep the whole
thing from blowing away. These
are scattered throughout the
town and on the edge of the city. Otherwise,
the city is most beautiful. It
sits on the edge of the Mediterranean Sea, whose waters are perhaps the
bluest of any other in the world. I
never did find out why. The
houses are all of limestone enclosed by a high wall.
And flowers of every description fill the yards, although they
are hard to see except through the one
barred gate. The
people are Moslems, consequently we saw no women except very few and all
completely covered with “barracans.”
Only a small triangle over one eye was the only opening, the rest
of the garment wound around from head to toe.
The men also wear a barracan but thrown over and around the
shoulder. They are a rather
striking looking race - small and wiry with good features.
They are very religious and their call to prayer that in this
modern day comes over a loud speaker, is most eerie, especially the one
before sunrise. It creates a
feeling of “stillness” that
is hard to describe. Their
etiquette is formal, upon meeting they shake hands gently, then touch
their forehead and chests with a slight bow.
If food is offered a guest never refuses, and the serving of tea
is almost ritual. Even on
the side of the road you will see truck drivers at “teatime” sitting
in their little circle drinking tea made over an open fire. On
either side of Tripoli are two Roman ruins, Leptis Magna and Sabratha.
Both date from the years around 200 and contain the ruins of once
beautiful cities filled with works of art.
Only the crumbled walls, a few columns and the remains of a vast
amphitheatre are left. Again
you have an eerie feeling of oneness with a people who lived and loved
so many centuries ago. Let
me close with a word about the children.
They are all beautiful and on holidays the little girls are
dressed in dresses made of local cloth that defies description - colors
of the brightest including gold and silver brocades - all made alike.
And children are children the world over.
One day my daughter-in-law left me in the car and ran up to the
company office for the mail. A
nearby Arab school let out and there were about twenty little boys
stopped around the car. As
she came back out, they surrounded her shouting and laughing in delight.
An Arab friend with her interpreted their shouts as “Cowboy!
Cowboy!” She was dressed
in blue jeans! A Texas
cowboy has apparently become a universal symbol. And again speaking of children, I had nine greet me in San Antonio on our arrival. One said a little later, “I knew it would be just like Christmas when Nana and Granddaddy got here!” |
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