Chapter XIV TRIPOLI BOYS' SCHOOL
The one enterprise which stands out most conspicuously in our life in Syria and which has absorbed more of our thought and activity than any other, is the boarding school for boys in Tripoli. In the earlier years of our work in Tripoli field, I found an important item to be the selection of promising candidates from the pupils in the village schools for further education in one of the mission boarding schools. We were anxious to encourage the higher education of boys, for in this respect as in many others, north Syria is more backward than other parts of the country. Means of communication were poor and it was not an easy thing for people to send their children to a distance of four or five days' travel. We used every means at our disposal to persuade reluctant parents, offering free tuition and sometimes traveling expenses and help with clothing. By all these means we could gather, from the whole territory, a dozen, or fifteen, or, at most, twenty boys, whose parents were willing to send them to school.
TRIPOLI BOYS' SCHOOL
First Home
TRIPOLI BOYS' SCHOOL
Second Home
But emigration to America gradually opened the eyes of the people to the commercial advantages of education. Ignorant parents who had gone abroad began to send back money, with urgent instructions to put their boys in the American schools. We found the number of applicants increasing and a new willingness to pay, in part at least, for the education. Instead of a dozen, we had sixty or more to provide for and the tide was rising. Conditions were the same elsewhere and it was not easy for the other schools to receive this larger number from our district. Why, then, should our boys go so far from home?
The eagerness of some of these lads to gain an education went to our hearts, and the hardest thing we had to do was to refuse an earnest pleader for whom we had no place left. One day in Homs a young man came to me, pleading for a place in Sidon. He was making his own living as an artisan, and had only a simple education. I wished to test his pluck and pointed out all the difficulties in the way of one in his circumstances. He had thought it all out and said he could work at his trade in the summer vacations and earn enough for his clothing. But it was a five days' journey to Sidon, and the cost of the journey must be provided for in some way. There was not a moment's hesitation as he said, "I'll walk." And he did walk, showing a manly contempt for obstacles in the way of gaining an education.
This growing demand for an education such as our American schools give, with the increasing ability of many to pay the cost, seemed a clear call for action. Our mission had been criticized for putting too much energy and money into education, so it seemed a chance at the same time to take a step in advance in the line of self-support. I did not wish to go before the mission with my proposition until I had it well supported. For this reason I wrote to Mr. George D. Dayton who has supported us through all our missionary life, and laid the matter before him, making two distinct requests. If such a school were to be a success, it must have its own permanent premises, especially adapted to its use, and I asked whether he would help us to secure this for the school. It did not seem wise to wait however for the accomplishment of this purpose to open the school. I was confident, myself, that the school could be made self-supporting if the premises were provided, but I wished a guarantee to lay before the mission, and so asked Mr. Dayton to underwrite the enterprise to the extent of three hundred dollars a year, in case of a deficit. He responded promptly, acceding to both requests. I was ready then to go before the mission. Our proposition called for two things from the Board, the addition of a missionary to our Tripoli station and provision of rent for premises in which to open the school temporarily. Both requests were granted and we were authorized to go ahead, even before receiving our additional missionary.
Ten years after opening the school, owing to removals and delay for language study, the whole work of the station, with the addition of the school, still rests on the shoulders of two men, who live in hope of having their new associate, promised ten years ago. It has been like the pursuit of a mirage or the fatuous end of the rainbow. More than once we have given a sigh of satisfaction and said, "Well, next year, or at latest, the year after, we shall be able to settle down to normal lines and really do our work right." An emergency has always arisen somewhere, our pleasant dreams have faded away, and we have settled down again to try to carry the extra load; but each time this is done, the weight seems to press more heavily and a sense of discouragement steals into the tired heart.
We were ready to begin school in 1903 and had laid in some supplies for the coming year, when cholera appeared in the land, interfering with all lines of travel and communication. It was decided to postpone the opening until the next year and special plans for temporary work were made for the various teachers. In October 1904 the Tripoli Boys' School opened its doors, and there was every indication of hearty support. We had planned to begin on a very small scale with only twenty boarders. We had rented a house in which the boys were to sleep and study, the kitchen and dining room being in the basement. Before the day of opening we had thirty-two insistent applicants and wanted very much to receive them all. Rooms were rented across the street for study and recitation purposes, releasing for a dormitory the large room before assigned to study. This, with extra crowding of the beds, made room, and the whole number were admitted. The beds were very crude, being merely boards laid across rude iron supports. Everything was as simple as possible.
We were all inexperienced in school administration and had about as much to learn as did the boys, but that first year was a year of real delight. The school was small and the family feeling was encouraged in every way. Every Sunday evening the boys came to our home for a social sing, and we learned that the neighbors looked forward to the enjoyment of the volume of boyish voices that rang out on the evening air. In the middle of the year it was possible to transfer the school to much more commodious quarters, where all school and household functions could be under one roof. The most satisfactory feature, perhaps, was the financial outcome. When the books were closed, at the end of the year, there was no deficit to be provided for, and so our highest anticipations seemed to be justified. This has continued to be the normal record of the school, the current income providing for the current expense, excepting the item of rent. The second year we were able to start in with American desks, and iron beds in the dormitories, and had an enrollment of sixty pupils.
A detailed history of the school would make this chapter too long, but its growth and success have meant a great deal to us in our missionary life. In 1909, when we returned from our second furlough, we had a sufficient building fund to justify definite plans for the permanent home of the school. It was not easy to decide on the best location. Every place suggested had advantages and disadvantages. We could not visit any locality in the most casual way without very largely increasing the value of land in the vicinity. We looked at land near the sea, in the gardens, on each side of the city, but gradually all minds turned to an olive orchard on the brow of the hill just north of the city. It might not be possible to purchase it, but we all agreed that it was the place we wanted, if it could be obtained. Inquiry revealed the fact that this piece of property belonged to a family of brothers and sisters who held it as joint heritage from their father. One of the brothers got the whole into his possession, excepting the share of one sister, whose claim was something less than one-twelfth. Her husband was an avaricious fellow who thought he could hold us up for whatever he might demand. We purchased the remainder of the property, but could do nothing toward building until our partner's share should be set off and a legal division made. We proposed every possible division but nothing was acceptable. We tried the courts and found it almost as hopeless as Dickens' picture of chancery. Finally an amicable adjudication and division out of court was arranged by common friends. We went to the hill with professional measurers and proceeded to lay off our partner's portion. When he was convinced that we would prefer to give him at the north end, he promptly announced that he would take the south part, which was after all much to our advantage. Then the boundary was laid out very exactly, giving him his full share. After the peg had been carefully set, his son petulantly moved it a foot or more farther on our side, evidently intending to irritate us into a refusal of the division. We consented, however, the division wall was erected, the legal papers drawn up and our property was secured.
The next step was to obtain a building permit from the government. Every official is suspicious of every other, and each is watching for a chance to enter a complaint against the other. From one office we went to another, with favorable reports from the city engineer, but nothing was accomplished. There seemed to be no valid objection anywhere, and we were assured that the permit would be sent back as soon as our petition reached Constantinople. After long waiting, instead of the permit there came back another series of inquiries on points already fully explained. Preliminary work on cisterns, foundations and preparation of stone was in full progress, but the winter passed and no permit was received. At last a new governor came to Tripoli who for some reason took a personal interest in bringing the matter to a conclusion. He sent vigorous letters and telegrams to Constantinople and in due time the permit was issued, and at the end of May 1912, work was begun on the building proper. Every means was used to push work forward as fast as possible, through the summer and fall, so as to have the roof on before the rains came. The walls were completed, the roof timbers in place, but where were the tiles? These had been ordered long in advance, and were known to be on the way. Just at this unfortunate moment war between Turkey and Greece was declared and it appeared that our tiles were coming in a Greek steamer, which could not now approach a Turkish port. The fall rains came down on our roofless building and it was not until January that the tiles were received. When they arrived, there was great rejoicing. The workmen all left their tools to help unload the wagons. The schoolboys went up on the hill and, forming lines from the ground to the roof of the building, passed up the tiles from hand to hand with shouts and songs of joy. No damage had been done the building, since the rains tended to set the stone walls and cement flooring more perfectly, but the plastering and carpenter work for the interior were delayed, and the precious rain water for the cisterns was lost.
After the roof was finished, work progressed rapidly and the utility and beauty of the building developed every day more and more clearly. When Easter vacation came everything was ready, and in the absence of the boys, the school furniture was moved up to the new building so that all was in good order when vacation was over. The new term opened in the new home.
On May 21, 1913, the day was given over to the dedication of the new building, and a happier day than that has not come in the history of the school. In the forenoon, there were races and athletic sports, with a football game on the playground behind the building. In the afternoon, hosts of friends and neighbors inspected the building and grounds, and at four o'clock the Assembly Hall was crowded with the pupils and their friends. On the platform sat the governor and president of the municipality, with the missionaries and teachers. The boys sang heartily their songs of welcome and a special dedication hymn written for the occasion from the text, "Except Jehovah build the house, they labor in vain that build it." Their voices rang out especially as their handkerchiefs waved in their own school song in honor of T. B. S.
This building is rich in significance, for it is a memorial throughout. The main fund was raised in honor of my father, and so the building is to be known as the Henry A. Nelson Memorial. Smaller sums were given as special memorials to relatives of the givers, and the bell in the tower was given by parents of a young man, their only son, who was called to the heavenly home just before his twenty-first birthday. Those parents have the comfort of feeling that their son's voice is still calling in the tones of that bell to the lads of Syria, and so still serving the Master.
Our rejoicing in the new building was great, but not complete. With all our efforts it was not possible to finish the top story of the building, and the friends of the school will have plenty of opportunity to help us improve and increase our facilities in the service of the youth of north Syria.