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The American agents were bewildered at the sight of impoverished
peasants living in the midst of the magnificent ruins. Baalbek
was dominated by the crumbling remnants of the massive ancient
Temple of Bacchus and the nearby 1,500 ton monolith called ''The
Stone of the Pregnant Woman.'' Over the many centuries the city
had declined to little more than a few hundred houses nestled
in a lush grove of fruit trees. It was, however, exactly the type
of exotic scene the Chicago Fair's sponsors wanted to display
on the ''Midway Plaisance of Nations.''
In the shadow of the snow-capped Mount Lebanon, the field
agents found a tiny village filled with friendly Christians, who
were more than willing to extend ''saa-id'' to the weary travelers.
Just ''a cigarette's walk'' from Baalbek the agents rested in
the tiny settlement of Ain Bourdai. The land was poor and the
people had suffered greatly from foreign conquests, but the twenty-eight
homes in the village were a model of average Middle Eastern life.
Volunteers from the tiny village would show the world what life
in Palestine was like.
No doubt the villagers of Ain Bourdai prayed for guidance
before setting off on their unheard of voyage. Some of the villagers'
children had traveled to distant Beirut, but its famed institutions
of higher education were much closer than America. Soon sons and
daughters and whole families would travel halfway across the world
based only on their faith in the foreign agents for the World's
Columbian Exposition. They prayed in their newly rebuilt church
of St. George and then set off for the port of Beirut, some 100
miles distant. Once there, the small band of Syrians boarded a
boat in the St. George Bay and set out on a 6,100 mile adventure.
America was more strange and marvelous than the villagers
of Ain Bordai could have ever dreamed. Traveling to Chicago the
villagers experienced the sights of New York City, modern rail
transportation, and a country forty times the size of Syria. And
then came the wonders of the fair. The Columbian Exposition was
everything they had been promised and more. A private railway
spur brought visitors directly into the park on Chicago's lakefront.
The fair filled the nearly one hundred square blocks that today
make up Jackson Park. The exhibits were so numerous that five
official guides were required to completely describe the grounds.
In one hour 130,000 people could be transported about the grounds.
The fair offered a fleet of electric boats, gondolas, steam launches,
an intramural railway, a moving sidewalk, rolling and sedan chairs.
There were dozens of exhibition halls, scores of national displays,
and thousands of new technological marvels. 60,000 people could
be fed in a one hour lunch sitting while the world's most gigantic
Ferris Wheel spun guests 250 feet in the air at two bits a revolution.
In the shadow of the Ferris Wheel was the Vienna Cafe, the Algerian
Market, the Java Lunch Room, the Persian Theatre, and a small
group of villagers from Ain Bordai.
The ''Plaisance'' was like a circus midway devoted to acts
and novelties from around the world. This smaller exhibit area
west of the main fair grounds offered the most exotic sights and
souvenirs. The Syrian men, from Ain Bordai, delighted the passing
crowds with their dashing displays of Arabian horsemanship. Their
equine feats were considered to be one of the fair's leading attractions.
Folk dances by the Syrian women were another ''must-see'' spectacle.
The sons of Syria who were not on horses, sold the fair's most
popular souvenirs; perfumed beads and wooden boxes made from the
cedars of Lebanon. The older women and younger girls worked all
day making pita bread and sweetmeats for sale to the sidewalk
curious.
The fair ran for two years, but by the end of 1893 some of
the Syrians had decided they wanted to stay in this land of unparalleled
economic opportunities. One young man during his break in performances
took advantage of an excursion ride on Lake Michigan. For a dollar
he rode the pleasure boat to Milwaukee, where he found a new home.
Most of the villagers from Ain Bordai went back to the valley
of their birth, but at least one had found a new home on the banks
of the Great Lakes. The returning villagers told unbelievable
stories of electricity, skyscrapers, streetcars, hot and cold
running water, and the opportunity for every man to make a fortune.
Few places could equal the stark, natural beauty of Ain Bordai's
twisted orchards of apples, peaches, figs and olives, but the
land's intense poverty made many decide that the time had come
to move on. Eventually almost half of the village left for the
New World.
Initially they came for the economic advantages of America.
Few intended to stay. They planned to make enough money to be
comfortable and then return to the village of their birth. With
a friend and relative already settled in Milwaukee, southeastern
Wisconsin was a logical destination. Those that arrived were poor,
scantily educated, and spoke only their native tongue. Life was
hard. They settled into the poor Greek and Italian neighborhoods
of Milwaukee. The Syrian community on Huron Street was typical
of these earliest immigrants. On the far east end of the city,
near the mouth of the Milwaukee river, seventy-five Syrians huddled
in a single two-story frame home. The structure lacked running
water and shared toilet facilities with at least one other building.
The sixty-nine men and six women called the building at 138 Huron
Street home, until they could afford to move deeper into the melting
pot.
By 1900 Milwaukee's Syrians had begun to leave the Third Ward.
New arrivals had come from all parts of Palestine including Zahle,
Haifa, and Jerusalem. With increased earnings and a better understanding
of English, the community began to drift into the Fourth Ward,
around Second Street at Kinnickinnic Avenue. Many of the earlier
Syrians worked in the grocery and produce business. At first they
worked for the city's Greek and Italian merchants but as their
knowledge of American business customs improved, the Syrians began
their own businesses. Generally they avoided the heavy, manual,
industrial labor that was the staple of Milwaukee immigrants.
It was not at all uncommon to open the door to a Syrian street
merchant with his oil cloth shoulder sack stuffed full of notions
and yardgoods. The Syrian women stayed at home making the fine
linen and woolen products which the men peddled daily on the streets
of Milwaukee. Slowly the merchant class established stores for
their thread, cloth, rugs, and vegetables. Some of the Syrians
did move into manufacturing, most notably Frank Ayoob, Mike Malik,
and some members of the Herro family.
The social lifestyle of these immigrants was set by the patterns
of life led by the Barrocks, Herros, Metterys, and Nabkeys. The
women continued to stay home, not integrating into the society.
Though they were not barred from education few women attended
public schools. Formal education was largely reserved for the
male members of the family. For many years the language barrier
continued to isolate the Syrian community from Milwaukee's other
immigrants. The people were generally referred to as ''peaceable
and harmlessly inclined.'' Male socialization consisted of heated
conversations in the business places and on the front stoops of
Milwaukee homes. After singing their native folk songs, there
were long silences as the men inhaled on their improvised narghiles;
the traditional long stemmed water pipes. In many ways their accent
set them apart. A Milwaukee Journal reporter characterized their
speech as a 'weird tongue,' with the men 'jabbering away like
magpies.' James Arrieh was typical of the hundred and fifty Middle
Easterners who settled in Wisconsin in the early years. Arrieh
came looking for a better life. The twelve year old first lived
with an uncle who was of the Herro family. The boy went immediately
to work at a fruit stand for $15 a month and board. Though the
life was difficult the Syrian immigrants obtained their goals;
the opportunity to work and the chance to make a good living.
By 1910 Wisconsin was home to 791 persons from the Middle
East. About five hundred Syrian-Lebanese lived in the greater
Milwaukee area. Since most still intended to return to their homeland,
wives were frequently brought over from the Bekka Valley. Life
in America was becoming more and more settled. There were carpet
merchants and grocers with established clients and some in the
Syrian community were even buy homes. Imperceptibly the migration
was becoming permanent. The new community was shifting west so
that the center of activities was no on Fifth Street between Wisconsin
and Wells. Life was peaceful, content, and profitable; but something
fundamentally important was missing - the faith of their fathers.
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