I spent part of my last weekend here on the beach, with Mohamed and Rajab, at a place about 50kms south of Benghazi called Gimenes. We were the only people on the beach - the locals think it's too cold at this time of year. We've been very lucky though - the temperatures are still in the eighties. The water doesn't reflect the air temperature - it was really quite chilly. However, being made of stern stuff, I went swimming until I got a headache at which point I knew I'd been in long enough.
Mohamed and Rajab continued filling me in on the finer points of Libyan culture. One area we covered was women, as you do. Their oldest sister is getting married next month - to a man she's never seen, not even in a photograph. He's been checked out by the male members of the family, and because they're happy, she's happy. I asked what the divorce rate was when marriages were arranged like this; apparently they're quite rare, and certainly lower than the rates we experience in the UK.
Whilst we were lounging on the beach, a dog (Egyptian, of course) ran up and attacked Rajab. Mohamed just laughed. He said that if the dog had killed Rajab, he'd have been happy - he'd be able to move into Rajab's bedroom!
Exams have started, and nerves are stretched to breaking point. A fair amount of 'helping' is taking place, but not to such an extent that I'm fooled. Speaking and writing are difficult to copy, fortunately.
The rest of my week is going to be filled with writing reports, building spreadsheets, and handing the final bits over to James. I've automated as much as possible, so he should be able to cope, as should whoever comes to replace me.
