Gaddafi was in power and my child already has a few (many) days ago.
It was, to be exact, 1975 was when I was in Libya: Benghazi!
was my political understanding is zero - but that was something else in the state of the Green Paper , even I fell on already.
My father was then working for the German company, Philip Holzmann, water treatment and desalination plant was one of the jobs that earn money from which up to now, German companies a fortune. As in Egypt, Nigeria, North Korea and other countries, bludgeoning where despots and dictators of their people. German have their money already deserves always good with dictatorial circumstances, or what it was like when the old military stocks were sold to the Turkish army - which are then the Kurds were gunned down.
Then - in Benghazi was beautiful weather, the beaches were, unfortunately, provided with oil lumps: my mother found it disgusting, but thought had made any.
From early to late, "yelled" at that time already the Gaddafi Libyan television on any his slogans onto the illiterate people down. I was then almost 12 years as on the flat roof of our house and watched as the bottom cut off the chickens head was ass beaten with the whip and on the opposite roof women in the laundry hanging just like that was hit in the face. When they saw me, the women, they ducked away, or disappeared. When she would not live there.
explained to me that no one. Maybe because I beat the women with the so-knew from Germany.
evening we were invited mostly - or at any Mufti Sheikh or how the names were there (or called themselves). In most cases, one of the hosts wanted me buy , offered my father to 15 camels or one of its shoe shops in Benghazi. Not at all funny - I can only say! In any case, from the moment not more, because his own father actually decides to such a deal. Though for fun, for his own amusement - as he later claimed. As a child of 12 years ago, when teenage daughter because the fun has long since ceased, and I maintain today, that saw the majority of the time fathers, their daughters as property and would have enjoyed times as a trip to Arab-oslamische situation very much.
What fascinated me back then to Libya , were the " simple" people. Totally honest and totally trustworthy. I can not remember the baker over who is running to me every morning for each paid too much for piastres, as if he had given me 100 marks out too little. An open car, I can remember, from which is never something was stolen and just very friendly, interested and friendly people in Libya, I can remember.
But - I can remember, to drum, which I had no idea until now. The Desert Fox Rommel
, Libya highly revered and immortalized with a monument Rommel in the Libyan desert. A huge blocks, like a small fortress held in its walls the names of fallen Wehrmacht soldiers via small work in a mosaic for the ages. Strange, no?
And in the vastness of the Libyan desert , where you may think that nothing is out of stones and scorching sun - get nomads " card houses " of drum and everyone that you meet who is not a word of English let alone German can acknowledge the name Rommel with shining eyes and a satisfied smile.
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