“At the Fox Hostel,” I replied.
“You better go immediately. Take the car and head for this address. The woman there is expecting you. Meantime, I will ring her and tell her you are on the way.” Before I left he said “We will have supper at my place. My wife is eager to meet you. After dinner, we get back to Fenianos.”
Foreign students at the time were a fortunate few. Those who, like myself, studied in the West in that era, vouch for my words. Today though, things have changed and unfortunately, Arab students are not as welcome as before. 
He typed the German translation and jotted down dozens and dozens of explanations in the paper margins at the end of which he wrote ‘Credit goes to my Lebanese student, Anis Fraiha.’ 
Days later, I was summoned to Litman’s office. “We still have three months before classes start. I have noticed that your German is not as good as I expect of you. I suggest that you spend the time learning German”, he said. “I have another friend from the German nobility: a reverent retired general married to a Cambridge graduate.  After retirement, he bought an old gunpowder factory and turned it into a farm. The farm rests on a beautiful spot of land. His wife has a school for foreign students. She teaches them German and lets them stay in the remaining part of the factory. I called her and asked if she could admit yet another student from the near East. She has not had the chance yet to teach an Arab student and said you would be most welcome. She would love to meet you. You had better join this school instead of spending the days strolling about the old city.”