Americans jostle for places on first plane home

THERE were scenes of fatigue and frustration yesterday at the Nicosia State Fair, where American evacuees from Lebanon were given temporary refuge before being bussed to Larnaca airport and flown back to the United States.

Representatives from the US relief effort had trouble calming the impatient evacuees, who despite the pleas and admonitions of the American officials on site, were yelling in English and Arabic and pushing to the front of the gated area in a chaotic effort to be among those on the first US-bound evacuation flight back to the US.

There have been reports that Americans trapped in Lebanon have over the past days grown increasingly frustrated at what they perceive as an unjustifiable delay by the US to evacuate its nationals from Lebanon.

The first major influx of American evacuees arrived at Larnaca port in the early hours yesterday morning. Upon arrival about 500 of them were transported to the State Fair in Nicosia, where the American Embassy had rented out two large 2,000m² rooms to offer them refuge until further transportation was arranged.

The US organised three flights yesterday to Baltimore to get its citizens back home, a 2.45pm flight carrying 244 people, an 8pm flight with 217 people, and a 9.30pm flight with 291 people.

The US has also scheduled two flights for today heading to Baltimore, one to Newark, and one to Philadelphia.

Sanaa Ouchattou, 28, had been in Lebanon for two weeks, “one good week and one bad week”, before being evacuated on the Orient Queen, which arrived at Larnaca yesterday morning.

According to Ouchattou, some of the Americans had feigned fainting spells so that they would be placed on the first plane.

Ouchattou had fled from Lebanon along with a relative, who was waiting alongside her at the State Fair. “She just had brain surgery. We should be on the first flight out, but we’re not.

“Of course, if I was alone, I would stay in Cyprus for a week or so. It’s a shame to come and leave right away.”

But Ouchattou’s desire to spend some time in Cyprus was not shared by most of her compatriots, who jostled for a position on the first bus bound for Larnaca airport.
“Please, I’m sick… I’ve got cancer!” one older man yelled unconvincingly at the American official.

It was especially difficult for those trying to coordinate who would go on each flight since there were so many elderly and children who all wanted to be on it.

One woman carrying a child in a baby sling handed over the three passports of herself and her children to the official responsible for the bus boarding.

“I’m sorry but you’re not on this list,” he replied, handing her back the passports, apologetic but unmoved by her pleading.

“Can we get a doctor here to confirm that this man is sick,” another official yelled, as an elderly men entreated to be placed on the list for the first plane.

When asked how her experience of the evacuation had been thus far, 17-year old Nafeasee Kenaio replied, “I’ve got two words for you: disorganised and uncomfortable.”

“The only reason we got on a boat from Beirut in the first place is because we complained to a soldier. There was no order there, just crowded people rushing around. It was pure heat and chaos.”

But Kenaio said that a number of Americans were now exaggerating their conditions to be permitted on the first plane out of the country such as by “claiming they were having anxiety attacks.”

Kenaio had been studying Arabic in Lebanon for over a month when the bombings broke out.

“But I wasn’t surprised it [the Israeli offensive] happened,” Kenaio said. “The last time I was in Lebanon, which was in 1999, it was also bombed. I saw a telecommunications tower get blown up.”

In June 1999, just before Israeli premiere Benjamin Netanyahu left office, Israel bombed southern Lebanon, its severest attack on the country since 1996.

Earlier in the day, US Marines waded ashore on a Beirut beach to evacuate about 1,000 Americans on board the USS Nashville. About 40 lightly armed Marines, aided by Lebanese soldiers, helped them on to the troop carrier as two big booms shook the Beirut coastline.

Soothed by classical music from the USS Nashville’s loudspeakers, evacuees on the ship’s main deck appeared relieved their ordeal was ending.

“It was total chaos,” said Hisam Ajouz, 18, from Dearborn, Michigan. “Everyone was trying to shove their way to the (US) checkpoint. Women were screaming that they had babies and old people looked like they were on the verge of collapse.”