Sights, smells, sounds and oh so many cars in Syria

Well, it's been less than a week since I landed in Syria and what an eventful four days it's been! I was excited about my journey here because I suspected, and rightly so, that Syria would be the most “exotic” place I've visited in all my travels and I was correct. So what do I mean by exotic? Not only is it the sights (Bedouin fires in the desert seen from the plane) and sounds (Arabic being spoken all around) and smells (sheesha available on every street corner) but also the fact that here there is no mistaking that I am outside the culture. I've been taken for a native all over the British Isles and in various other countries, including Italy and Poland, but that will never happen in Syria and I'm finding it interesting to think about how my obvious identity as an American tourist is affecting the way I am experiencing the country. I usually try so hard not to appear too “touristy” but here, even just walking down to the lobby of the hotel it's apparent so I cut myself some slack and enjoyed playing tourist.

Damascus is reported to be the oldest continually inhabited city and boy is it crowded! It's almost like all those people who have inhabited it for the past few thousand years are still around-- most of them driving or running across the street like a human game of Frogger. The traffic is unbelievable and will just get worse until the end of the week when Ramadan begins. There are no lane markings which is good as lanes of traffic seem to be just some vague notion. Horns are used for communication. Speed limits are non existent, tailgating and cutting people off is common, and it appears that in traffic circles the traffic in the circle tends to yield to the traffic joining the circle . . . at least some of the time.

Fortunately we had wonderful people-- cousins of one of Eddie's clients-- take us around. Eddie, Fehraz and Gassan met me at the airport when I arrived Sunday evening and we came back to the hotel where I took a nice bath and collapsed into bed. Eddie's brother, Sal, arrived a couple hours after I did so Monday morning the three of us met up for breakfast and then were picked up by Gassan and Fehraz and taken to the old part of Damascus where we wandered the streets before meeting up with Ronza, Fehraz's cousin who lived in LA for a couple years when she was a teenager and therefore speaks great English. Fehraz gets by in English and Sal speaks a little Arabic so communication was ok before Ronza arrived but she was able to translate Fehraz's knowledge of the history of places and tell us what we were seeing and experiencing.

Our first stop was the Umayyad mosque, the third most important mosque in Islam outside of the mosques in Medina and Mecca. The story is that the prophet Mohamed stopped outside of Damascus on his travels and saw the city from the hill and said he didn't want to enter it as he knew he could only enter paradise once. The image of Damascus as paradise is portrayed in mosaics on the inside wall of the mosque courtyard. I had to get a special coat/dress thing to wear before going into the mosque, which given that it was probably already over 100 degrees was quite an experience but well worth it to be able to go into the mosque and walk around. The mosque was built on the remains of a pagan temple and the remains of the gate to the old temple can be seen outside the newer entrance. There was also a church on the site and when the Muslims took over the area, they allowed the Christians to continue to worship in part of the courtyard for almost a century. In fact, the main part of the prayer hall contains a shrine dedicated to John the Baptist as his head was purported to be discovered buried there. So now I've seen the shrine where his head is and his index finger (in Florence) so I only have a few hundred body parts left to go.

We were at the mosque during the time of the mid-day prayer so as we walked around the courtyard we could hear the prayers coming from inside. The mosque also has the shrine of Hussein, the prophet's grandson, so it's a pilgrimage site for the Shi'ite so we saw some pilgrims there from Iran. The shrine of Saladin is also right outside the mosque gates but as I'd already returned my “special clothes” I couldn't go in and see the tomb itself.

After leaving the mosque we walked through the famous old souk or market area where in one part the tin roof is speckled with holes left by celebratory gun shots in the early 20th century making for an interesting lighting effect as you walk through. Though we didn't do any shopping Monday morning, we did stop for some of the famous vanilla ice cream covered with sliced pistachios that the souk is famous for and it was very sweet but very delicious. After walking around the citadel, which was closed for construction, we then got back in the van and headed to pick up Ossama, another cousin, and Sandrella, Fehraz's wife. We all then went to Seidnaya in the hills outside Syria. Famous for a picture of Mary supposedly painted by St. Paul (there were so many pictures of Mary in it that I'm not sure which one it was though), the church was built to honor Mary the Mother of Jesus because a gazelle said to do it. Obviously there's more to the story than that but I can't remember the details at this point. Suffice to say, it's a beautiful and holy place that also now houses a convent and the sanctuary of the church is filled with more crystal chandeliers than Liberace could have ever dreamed of—I've never seen anything like that.

After leaving the church, we, unlike the prophet, are obviously able to enter paradise more than once because we were taken to what Fehraz and Ossama said was the most famous restaurant in all of Syria called, of course, Paradise. And indeed it was. From the gardens and fountains as you enter to the misters that kept the outdoor seating area cool, to the endless variety of food that was continually brought to the table, it was heavenly. We started our meal with beverages and little dishes of nuts-- the best almonds I've ever had along with two types of pistachios. That was followed by dishes of various green salads, tabbouleh, creamy hummus, great smoky babba ganoush, olives, pickles, a big bowl of cherry tomatoes, warm puffy pita bread, this delicious dish that's a cross between yogurt and cheese-- all wonderful and all stuff from which I could happily make an entire meal. And then came the kibbeh and the pastry with the cheese inside and the little sausages and the skewers of meat and grilled vegetables. I had said that on this trip I would consider eating meat and poultry, especially if it was in a circumstance where it would be rude not to accept someone's hospitality and this was definitely one of those cases . . . and it was delicious, especially the grilled chunks of chicken in this yogurty buttery sauce. Yumaroo. All this was followed by what was probably my favorite part of the meal-- huge platters of fruit for dessert-- a big dish of grapes, a platter of dark, dusky plums, a small plate of cactus fruit, which are similar in texture to a pomegranate but taste completely different, peaches, pears, apples, watermelon, and then small bites of Turkish delight and some sugary pistachio-y concoction.
After dinner we were deposited back at the hotel-- very full but also very worn out after a long, hot day so we retired to our respective rooms and I rejuvenated by taking an hour long bubble bath which is my idea of paradise.

Tuesday morning were were met again by Gassan and Ossama and we headed for Krak de Chevalier, an old crusader castle and according to people like Mark Twain and the travel writer Paul Theroux, one of the best castles in the world. It was an amazing place. The original outer tower pre-dated the crusades but after the Christian knights (Templars and Hospitalers) took it over they extended the outer walls and then built an amazing defensive fortress inside the original walls. We had a tour guide who led us around and told us about the history of the place as we took picture after pictures of things like the armory, the stables, the dining room, the bread oven, and even the loos.

After Krak de Chevlaier we drove back towards Damascus to stop in Maalula, which is a Christian Aramaic speaking town in the hills. There are several old churches, monasteries and convents in the town and we visited two-- the convent and shrine of St. Thekla, and the monastery of St. Sergius. While the shrine of Thekla was pretty cool, the church at St. Sergius was the most amazing church I've ever been in. It dates back to the early fourth century and they have the oldest Christian altar there pre-dating the council of Nicea. Instead of a flat table, as decreed at Nicea, it's shaped like a pagan altar with raised sides. In pagan temples the sides were raised to catch the blood from the sacrifices and then there would have been a hole in the middle through which it drained although since Jesus was the sacrificial lamb the altar didn't have the hole in the middle. There was a lovely guide there who grew up speaking Aramaic and gave us an example of what is sounds like by reciting the Lord's prayer in its original language-- that was an amazing thing to hear. If my camera battery hadn't been dead I would have asked her if I could have recorded that-- it gave me chills. There were also some interesting icons in the church, painted by a famous Greek iconographer from the 18th century, including one of John the Baptist looking very relaxed with his legs crossed because his work to proclaim and baptize Jesus was done (guess he didn't see the whole Salome and off with his head thing coming). After buying a few post cards we headed back to Damascus, stopping in the new city to have schwarma at this little hole in the wall place that had great food but no power when we first arrived. Evidently in parts of the city the power supply is spotty at best and can go out suddenly. About ten minutes after we arrived the power came on in the schwarma shop where we were eating but went off at the place next door.

Our final full day in Damascus was spent seeing a few more sites in the old city and doing lots of shopping. Eddie and I got up early and took a walk to the museum a block away from the hotel. We were just going to look at the outside but they have a huge garden area filled with artifacts - pieces of Corinthian columns, mosaics, sculputre, etc. so we got tickets and walked around for a bit before heading back to meet Gassan, our faithful driver, and Fehraz who was our escort for the day. Before shopping Fehraz took us to an old building that had been a market place and sleeping quarters for merchants that's now used as a place for special events and then we spent some time wandering around Azem palace, and 18th century dwelling that was the private residence of the governor of Damascus. Although not as old as other buildings in the "old" city, it certainly was gorgeous and well worth the visit not only for its beauty but also for the exhibits in the various rooms of the palace where you could learn more about the everyday life of the Syrian elite-- quite luxurious!

After leaving the palace we did a little shopping for spices and trinkets before heading back to the hotel to rest for a while. Fehraz had to go to work for a few hours so we took the opportunity to nap, swim, etc. A quick aside here to give my wholehearted endorsement to sunscreen. While I did get a little bit of color in the UK last month, I'm still pretty pale but with 30 SPF sunscreen I was able to spend 90 minutes in the Syrian sun by the pool without so much as a tinge of pink. It actually wasn't that bad despite the fact the forecast said it would be 101 outside. I alternated sunbathing with swimming laps so it was the perfect way to relax before round two of shopping which included a trip to Fehraz's favorite sweet shop which was incredible. The way the souks are organized in Damascus is that there will be one lane that's all spices, another lane that's all textiles, another that's cookies and candy, etc. The sweet shop we were in was packed so we knew it must be good-- people stocking up for the Iftars, big meals that occur during Ramadan.

With our wallets practically empty and our bags full, we then went up Jebel Qaissioun, the rocky mount that was my view from my hotel window. From there we, along with probably a quarter of the 6 million other people in Damascus, took in the nighttime view of the city below at night. There were tons of cars lining the lane and people sitting and having picnics, enjoying the view. It was like a circus with fluorescent toys and cotton candy vendors and even a neon outlined little train ride. We opted for the adult activity of going to a restaurant and having tea while looking at the view. Tea, however, wasn't going to cut it for dinner for the men so we went to Fehraz's favorite place for one of his favorite dishes, ful, a fava bean salad that can be eaten plain or with yogurt. I opted for with yogurt because of my love for the Mediterranean type of yogurt (I've been in heaven here with all the fruit, plate of crudite that are brought with meals and of course, the yogurt). The cafe was yet another hole in the wall place or actually a better description would be hole under the overpass as it was on a corner of a busy street with an even busier street above. The tables were set up on an expanse of sidewalk and cement by the street and under the overpass. It was awesome and a perfect way to end our time in Syria.

Today we did the drive from Damascus to Beirut. The border crossing was uneventful, which was a good thing. The only snag was that despite what Eddie's travel book said, we had to pay an exit tax. Our driver didn't even realize this so we got up to the window at the Syrian departure area and were sent back for not having the correct paperwork. It was a little snag though and only held us up about 15 minutes. It was amazing how when we crossed into Lebanon the landscape changed-- suddenly there were trees and more greenery and even the buildings look different-- more of the European influence. Our hotel is a block away from the Mediterranean and is gorgeous. Tomorrow will be the first full day in Lebanon and evidently there is a lot planned so I'd better get to bed as I have to be up early to go meet the patriarch of the Maronite Catholic church, which will be our first stop. What does one wear to meet a patriarch I wonder? We'll find out tomorrow, for now, time for bed.

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