Basic HTML Version
SPRING
2012
21
IC mom:
first and only female MEA pilot
Truth be told, it was never Rula (Hoteit)
Khalil’s dream to become a pilot. It wasn’t
even a wish. It was purely a challenge.
And in Khalil’s world, all challenges must
be met, especially ones from university
peers who jeer at the idea of women pilots.
And yet, the 1995 newspaper ad clearly
stated that both men and women are en-
couraged to apply to train as MEA pilots.
“Female pilots!” a male student laughed
sarcastically as they sat in class one day.
“How could a woman become a pilot?”
Khalil rose to the bait. “We will both
apply and sit for the test and we will see
who will pass,” she said.
And that was it.The challenge was cast.
The 18-year old Khalil had no intention
of dropping her math major, especially as
she had only one year to go. But men like
that simply irked her.
Ten days later, she and her challenger sat
for the test.
For Khalil, it was just another test. She
has always been one of those students
who seemed to effortlessly accumulate
straight As and receive prizes. (In fact,
she was awarded a gold medal by the
Lebanese government in her sophomore
year for obtaining the highest average in
arts and sciences in the country).
Recognizing their daughter’s high aca-
demic skills, her parents – who lived in
the southern village of Duweir - sent her
to board at AUB to pursue a mathematics
degree.The eldest of four girls and one
boy, she was the apple of her father’s eye.
And so it was with great shock a few
weeks later that her father was told by
a friend that his daughter had passed a
stringent test to become an MEA pilot.
“Oh no,” he said. “That’s not my daughter.
That must be another girl. My Rula is
studying math at AUB.”
Khalil not only passed the test but was
the only woman do to so. Out of 2000
applicants, only nine were selected. She
was the only female. Incidentally, her
challenger was rejected.
But, she assured her father, it was only a
challenge.
Soon enough, however, the idea of
becoming a pilot began to gnaw at her.
Her father refused the very thought. In
response, Khalil dropped out of univer-
sity. “I will either be a pilot,” she told her
stunned father, “or I will stay at home.”
After three months of unsettled living at
home, her father finally relented (though
he suffered nightmares about his daughter
flying for weeks afterwards).There was a
condition, however: she had to earn her
mathematics degree after she became
certified as a pilot.
Overjoyed, Khalil set off to Scotland
where a one and a half year program of
intensive training awaited her. Her joy
was quickly diminished when she found
herself one of only two women out of 600
trainees.The unwanted attention piqued
her and she finally marched into a men’s
salon and demanded a man’s haircut. She
traded in her tank tops and frills for col-
lar neck T-shirts and jeans. “I wanted to
be treated as a colleague,” she said. “The
training was already tough as it is.”
It was smooth sailing from then on,
except for one little thing: a continuous
war of words with one of her Lebanese
colleagues,
Fadi Khalil ‘92
. He was, as
she describes him, “a bother”.
Still, she brushed him aside and concen-
trated on her studies.The most exciting mo-
ment was still to come – a moment that she
treasures to this very day: the first time she
sat behind the wheel of a plane and flew.
“It was amazing,” she recalled. “I couldn’t
stop grinning the entire half hour trip. I
was so happy.”
The training continued in Germany. To
her dismay, she was partnered with her
nemesis, Fadi Khalil. But by the time the
training was over two months later, the
two had become inseparable.
Back in Lebanon, at the age of 19, she
flew her first passenger flight to Geneva
and Brussels with former minister Tamam
Salam as a guest in the cockpit.
“I forgot I had passengers,” she said. “All I
could think of was the plane, the runway
and myself. I only felt the excitement
once it was over.”
Three years later, she married Fadi and
spent the next four years flying all over
the world for MEA and living in Cuba,
Venezuela, Greece, and Spain.
They moved to Lebanon permanently in
2001 when they were expecting their first
child.Their second son was born three
years later.
By 2011, Khalil had flown about 7000
hours, earning her the highest promotion in
the airline industry. She was now a Captain.
With two captains and two children, the
family is certainly unlike others. But the
boys seem to be used to the whirlwind life-
styles of their parents - though one parent
is always present when the other is away.
“It’s difficult being all together at one
time on a daily basis,” said Khalil. “But we
do schedule lots of holidays together.”
Until this day, Khalil remains the only
female pilot in Lebanon and, until quite
recently, the entire Middle East region.
As for her father, he has not only accepted
his daughter’s career but has since encour-
aged his son to follow suit.
In 2002, Khalil honored her promise to
her father: by returning to university and
finishing her degree in mathematics.
As for being a woman pilot, the chal-
lenges never stop. “I always have to be on
top of things” she said. “Any mistakes I
make are automatically attributed to my
being a woman. But I’m used to it. I have
no regrets.”
Captains Fadi and Rula Khalil with sons
Mohamed and Adam.