Syria-- Damascus and travels north (2 entries worth)
Written Nov. 3, 8 pm, in Hama, Syria, Feels like a while ago now . . . Originally composed (on paper) to be typed up as an email.
__________________________________
Hey everyone,
Forgive me for the delay in sending out a note. I have been in Syria almost a week now, and things here have been going well. Most of what I have seen and experienced has been quite outside anything I have known before. For those I may not have told, I am here with my good friend Rich (also my roommate this past year of school) who is spending the year studying Arabic in Damascus. I will be here in Syria for just over four more days, at which point I will, after much talk, commence my time in India.
We've been living a manic schedule, some nights staying up until daylight, other nights waking before the dawn, still others sleeping 11-12 hours (and necessarily so). We've spent several days in Damascus, made a day trip to a town called Bosra built in and around the ruins of a Roman town by the same name, and are currently on a several day jaunt to the north of Damascus.
A bit about Damascus:
Damascus is a town of maybe six or seven million (the estimate of a friend of Rich's), covering a large area where the desert stretching eastwards meets the mountains that make up the border between Syria and Lebanon. With most buildings low rise, a bit of sprawl, a dry climate, and mountains bordering one side, I haven't been able to avoid drawing a comparison or two to Los Angeles (did I mention the latitude is just about the same?). But this is no Los Angeles. Not that anyone said it would be. Besides being the capital and largest city of modern Syria, Damascus happens to be the oldest continually inhabited city in the world, or so people say.
Inside the Old City, you find yourself walking past things like the church where Christians hold that Paul regained his sight after his incident on the road to Damascus (which makes sense . . .). Or stepping inside the city's gigantic main Mosque-- one of the holiest sites in Islam today-- built on the remains of what was originally a BIGGER Roman temple before it became a Byzantine Church before it was captured from the Christians in the early years of Islam. To think how long people had been here before the Romans . . . .
Outside walls of the Old City, Damascus is marked by contrast. There are countless shopping drags, meaning wide streets with lots of trendy looking stores with bright lights. Though these were especially busy during my time in Damascus, due to the looming arrival of the holiday Eid at the end of Ramadan--the closest Moslem equivalent to Christmas, at least in terms of consumption and gift giving. But I'm told that shopping is something of a national pastime, and I've been surprised to discover that I stand out here largely because I'm not dressed as sharply as other young people. On the note of "national" this and that, I've also been told that none other than Celine Dion is, in terms of popularity, the sort of unofficial "national singer of Syria," but that's another story altogether . . . Only a block away from these shopping rows, you can find narrow winding streets, some with bustling street markets packed with everyone from those trendy shoppers to men and woman wearing more traditional Moslem dress, with a spectrum of everything in between. Some women wear head scarves and modern dress, others don't cover their hair at all; some are decked out in all black with black veils in front of their faces, or only their eyes showing. The buildings outside the Old City tend to be unadorned cubes more often than not with few windows. Concrete is the undoubted construction material of choice, frequently in the form of cinder blocks. As I understand it, this preference stems from the lack of concern in Arab culture with the appearances of the outsides of their living spaces, instead focusing more on the inside. I've been in one somewhat fancy apartment, and this too was inside a bleak looking cinderblock building. Even on the inside cosmetics seem to be much less of a concern than is found in what I'm familiar with at home; people appear unconcerned with making things "look finished," if you will. Rich explained to me that the lack of many windows--especially transparent ones--is due to the emphasis placed on privacy, and certain beliefs about the significance of seeing into the homes of others.
At least largely due to the nature of the Syrian government, crime simply does not exist in Damascus. Not that I would imagine it gets widely publicized when it does occur. Regardless, as far as crime is concerned, I've never felt so completely safe in my life while in a big city. As far as traffic is concerned, I can recall feeling safer elsewhere . . .
Some travels and encounters
Yesterday we visited Palmyra, the vast ruins of a Roman trading center, complete with a "Grand colonnade", temples, and the like, all made from a whitish pink sandstone of sorts. Highlights included walking through the colonnade at dawn and exploring the insides of the old "tower-tombs," some six or more stories high. It was wonderful how so much of this stuff was just there to explore when you got even a little off the beaten track-- no tickets, no interpretive signs, no one telling us what to do. The least enjoyable element of our visit was the impact of extensive tourism on the people living there--everyone was trying to get cash out of us through one scheme or another. No doubt something I can look forward to in various touristed parts of India . . . We spent a relaxed day today in a town called Hama, famous for its beautiful water wheels as well as a sad chapter in Syrian history that I won't go into here.
Almost all we've done has been made possible by Rich's near-fluency in Arabic. Plenty of people travel in Syria without speaking the language, but every time Rich starts talking to people in his excellent Syrian accent (at least I'm told . . . ), you can see in their facial expressions and body language that their entire conception of him changes. More than once he's gotten comments such as, "Oh, I thought you were a foreigner"; Arab vs. foreigner is a distinction of which Syrians tend to be quite conscious. Many times now Rich's conversing has opened doors for us, such as people inviting us into their homes for meals of coffee. When this has happened, I end up spending quite a bit of time sitting there quietly--which I'm more than happy to do--with Rich pausing the conversation now and again to tell me what they've been talking about. From what I've gathered from this, the Syrians we've encountered seem to love to talk about a few things in common. One is the widespread hospitality of Arabs, usually while demonstrating this to us beyond a doubt. Another common topic is Syrian-American relations, but only after volunteering that they don't automatically associate the recent actions of the American government (not popular in the region as of late) and Americans as people--which as Rich pointed out, we Americans don't necessarily do especially well when it comes to Syrians. Occasionally people we talk with ask Rich questions about me, but it is clear that he is just infinitely more, I guess, real and interesting to them, this American who speaks Arabic almost like one of them. This too is fine. I'm happy to sit and observe, let my thoughts wander, and, in one of our more extended visits, play a bit with the children.
In general, I am very much in Rich's debt for all he has done for me this trip, as besides doing all the communicating for the both of us, he is my guide to the culture and etiquette, and in general my sort of caretaker for everything from buying food to crossing the street--not easy for those used to crosswalks and drivers who pay attention to things like lanes and traffic lights. Rich manages the money, pays for various transportation fares, and asks the guys who make shwarma to leave out the green pepper thingys that I liked at first but don't anymore.
As for how I've been, a few sleep-deprivation induced grumpy spells aside, I've been feeling quite well. It's good to be with Rich, doing crazily interesting things every day. Healthwise I'm less than perfect, already besieged with some sort of mild cold and less mild digestion issues (sometimes called diarrhea), but these are footnotes to the overall experience. My thoughts are frequently focused on my soon to begin time in India, and the various new challenges it will present. A number of these seem substantially more tangible here in Syria than they did in the states, so I get nervous for my arrival there from time to time. That said, I have no less excitement for this project, or any less conviction that it is how I want to be spending my time in the coming months. Okay, this has been more than enough.
I hope you are all well!
Sincerely,
Josh
__________________________________
Hey everyone,
Forgive me for the delay in sending out a note. I have been in Syria almost a week now, and things here have been going well. Most of what I have seen and experienced has been quite outside anything I have known before. For those I may not have told, I am here with my good friend Rich (also my roommate this past year of school) who is spending the year studying Arabic in Damascus. I will be here in Syria for just over four more days, at which point I will, after much talk, commence my time in India.
We've been living a manic schedule, some nights staying up until daylight, other nights waking before the dawn, still others sleeping 11-12 hours (and necessarily so). We've spent several days in Damascus, made a day trip to a town called Bosra built in and around the ruins of a Roman town by the same name, and are currently on a several day jaunt to the north of Damascus.
A bit about Damascus:
Damascus is a town of maybe six or seven million (the estimate of a friend of Rich's), covering a large area where the desert stretching eastwards meets the mountains that make up the border between Syria and Lebanon. With most buildings low rise, a bit of sprawl, a dry climate, and mountains bordering one side, I haven't been able to avoid drawing a comparison or two to Los Angeles (did I mention the latitude is just about the same?). But this is no Los Angeles. Not that anyone said it would be. Besides being the capital and largest city of modern Syria, Damascus happens to be the oldest continually inhabited city in the world, or so people say.
Inside the Old City, you find yourself walking past things like the church where Christians hold that Paul regained his sight after his incident on the road to Damascus (which makes sense . . .). Or stepping inside the city's gigantic main Mosque-- one of the holiest sites in Islam today-- built on the remains of what was originally a BIGGER Roman temple before it became a Byzantine Church before it was captured from the Christians in the early years of Islam. To think how long people had been here before the Romans . . . .
Outside walls of the Old City, Damascus is marked by contrast. There are countless shopping drags, meaning wide streets with lots of trendy looking stores with bright lights. Though these were especially busy during my time in Damascus, due to the looming arrival of the holiday Eid at the end of Ramadan--the closest Moslem equivalent to Christmas, at least in terms of consumption and gift giving. But I'm told that shopping is something of a national pastime, and I've been surprised to discover that I stand out here largely because I'm not dressed as sharply as other young people. On the note of "national" this and that, I've also been told that none other than Celine Dion is, in terms of popularity, the sort of unofficial "national singer of Syria," but that's another story altogether . . . Only a block away from these shopping rows, you can find narrow winding streets, some with bustling street markets packed with everyone from those trendy shoppers to men and woman wearing more traditional Moslem dress, with a spectrum of everything in between. Some women wear head scarves and modern dress, others don't cover their hair at all; some are decked out in all black with black veils in front of their faces, or only their eyes showing. The buildings outside the Old City tend to be unadorned cubes more often than not with few windows. Concrete is the undoubted construction material of choice, frequently in the form of cinder blocks. As I understand it, this preference stems from the lack of concern in Arab culture with the appearances of the outsides of their living spaces, instead focusing more on the inside. I've been in one somewhat fancy apartment, and this too was inside a bleak looking cinderblock building. Even on the inside cosmetics seem to be much less of a concern than is found in what I'm familiar with at home; people appear unconcerned with making things "look finished," if you will. Rich explained to me that the lack of many windows--especially transparent ones--is due to the emphasis placed on privacy, and certain beliefs about the significance of seeing into the homes of others.
At least largely due to the nature of the Syrian government, crime simply does not exist in Damascus. Not that I would imagine it gets widely publicized when it does occur. Regardless, as far as crime is concerned, I've never felt so completely safe in my life while in a big city. As far as traffic is concerned, I can recall feeling safer elsewhere . . .
Some travels and encounters
Yesterday we visited Palmyra, the vast ruins of a Roman trading center, complete with a "Grand colonnade", temples, and the like, all made from a whitish pink sandstone of sorts. Highlights included walking through the colonnade at dawn and exploring the insides of the old "tower-tombs," some six or more stories high. It was wonderful how so much of this stuff was just there to explore when you got even a little off the beaten track-- no tickets, no interpretive signs, no one telling us what to do. The least enjoyable element of our visit was the impact of extensive tourism on the people living there--everyone was trying to get cash out of us through one scheme or another. No doubt something I can look forward to in various touristed parts of India . . . We spent a relaxed day today in a town called Hama, famous for its beautiful water wheels as well as a sad chapter in Syrian history that I won't go into here.
Almost all we've done has been made possible by Rich's near-fluency in Arabic. Plenty of people travel in Syria without speaking the language, but every time Rich starts talking to people in his excellent Syrian accent (at least I'm told . . . ), you can see in their facial expressions and body language that their entire conception of him changes. More than once he's gotten comments such as, "Oh, I thought you were a foreigner"; Arab vs. foreigner is a distinction of which Syrians tend to be quite conscious. Many times now Rich's conversing has opened doors for us, such as people inviting us into their homes for meals of coffee. When this has happened, I end up spending quite a bit of time sitting there quietly--which I'm more than happy to do--with Rich pausing the conversation now and again to tell me what they've been talking about. From what I've gathered from this, the Syrians we've encountered seem to love to talk about a few things in common. One is the widespread hospitality of Arabs, usually while demonstrating this to us beyond a doubt. Another common topic is Syrian-American relations, but only after volunteering that they don't automatically associate the recent actions of the American government (not popular in the region as of late) and Americans as people--which as Rich pointed out, we Americans don't necessarily do especially well when it comes to Syrians. Occasionally people we talk with ask Rich questions about me, but it is clear that he is just infinitely more, I guess, real and interesting to them, this American who speaks Arabic almost like one of them. This too is fine. I'm happy to sit and observe, let my thoughts wander, and, in one of our more extended visits, play a bit with the children.
In general, I am very much in Rich's debt for all he has done for me this trip, as besides doing all the communicating for the both of us, he is my guide to the culture and etiquette, and in general my sort of caretaker for everything from buying food to crossing the street--not easy for those used to crosswalks and drivers who pay attention to things like lanes and traffic lights. Rich manages the money, pays for various transportation fares, and asks the guys who make shwarma to leave out the green pepper thingys that I liked at first but don't anymore.
As for how I've been, a few sleep-deprivation induced grumpy spells aside, I've been feeling quite well. It's good to be with Rich, doing crazily interesting things every day. Healthwise I'm less than perfect, already besieged with some sort of mild cold and less mild digestion issues (sometimes called diarrhea), but these are footnotes to the overall experience. My thoughts are frequently focused on my soon to begin time in India, and the various new challenges it will present. A number of these seem substantially more tangible here in Syria than they did in the states, so I get nervous for my arrival there from time to time. That said, I have no less excitement for this project, or any less conviction that it is how I want to be spending my time in the coming months. Okay, this has been more than enough.
I hope you are all well!
Sincerely,
Josh
posted by Josh at 3:27 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home