Henning Schnaars, who works for a shipping company in the northern German port city of Bremen, is standing with his two trolley cases on the side of a road in Libya. He has just been handed his first setback.
Schnaars stands with his back to the Benghazi airport, looking at a billboard. It depicts Libyan revolutionaries with outstretched arms and making the V-for-victory sign with their fingers. At the bottom of the billboard are the words, written in capital letters, "Merci La France."
"Oh, well," Schnaars says. At the moment, the French aren't exactly his favorite people.
Schnaars landed in Benghazi an hour ago and has just finished meeting with the airport's new director. It was a short conversation, with not even enough time for the coffee he had expected to be served. The director, who returned to Libya from exile during the civil war, had cut the meeting short after apologizing profusely, saying that he unfortunately had another appointment.
Schnaars was annoyed. He stood up reluctantly, took his briefcase and made his way to the door. It opened, and a delegation of well-dressed Frenchmen walked in, some wearing sunglasses. They saw a stocky German who hadn't had enough sleep and was standing there in his shirtsleeves without a jacket. A few of the Frenchmen grinned. One wished Schnaars "good business" as he walked by.
Schnaars was served his coffee, but it was in the waiting room, where he could hear his Libyan host enthusiastically greeting the French delegation through the closed door. » | Uwe Buse and Takis Würger | Thursday, March 01, 2012
