As Sham

Day 19

Finally decompressing from last weekend's trip to Damascus (As Sham) in Syria...

It was another stellar weekend outing, leading me to believe I should pretty much travel every free day I get (not too many here) regardless of work. A largish group of 13 of us + one of our program directors Medhat (a former UN translator turned UVa prof and all-around great guy) departed Irbid on Thursday eve. We piled into 3 hired private taxis for the 2+ hour drive north across the border.

Two of the cars were straight out of Dukes of Hazard--huge Chevys with wide seats and a lot of torque. Our drivers were all brothers and knew the ins and outs of the border crossing. I should say border crossings; there are about 4 checkpoints on each side of the line. It was more of a pain coming back actually, because our trunks had to be searched to prevent Syrians smuggling arms in to the small Muslim Brotherhood in Jordan or en route to Palestine.

The group got a lot more manageable when we split up to find lodging in Damascus. I ended up in a group of 6 splitting two rooms at a relatively nice (read: air conditioned) hotel in the middle of the new part of the city. Most of each of our three days was filled with long walks to explore the city and check out the sites. Getting lost and then found in a foreign city on foot is pretty much the best way to learn its layout, so many miles later we had journeyed into the old (walled) city.

Syria is definitely a police state. Our hotel was a stone's throw from the Interior Ministry, so the place had guards everywhere. But there are also armed police on every other street corner it seemed. It turned out to be a real benefit actually, as they are great people to ask directions and are either bored enough or intrigued enough to have very nice conversations with us Americans. If nothing else, we all felt extremely safe here, contrary to U.S. State Dept. travel warnings...

If new Damascus is a pretty normal modern city of concrete *medium-rises, old Dimashq is straight out of centuries-old Byzantine and Islamic eras, with narrow alleys, tunnels, and small stone buildings--many of which have been converted to cafes, shops, and restaurants catering to both tourists and the throngs of Syrians walking the same ancient streets.

On Friday, we checked out the Muslim section of old Damascus, namely the HUGE open air market suq hamidiyya and the very old Ummayyid Mosque. The market and mosque were closed for the (Muslim) sabbath, so we pretty much just took in the outside of the mosque and tried out the famous ice cream at the one shop still open in the suq. It was a softer, more subtley-flavored strawberry cone, covered in crushed pistachios. Different and good.

The mosque is beautiful. First a pagan temple in Greek/Roman times and later a vast Byzantine church, the Muslim conquerors offered to trade several prominent captured churches for the Christians' major worship center in the 8th century. Although we didn't venture inside until Saturday, the 6 of us dined at a classy roof-top terrace restaurant overlooking the mosque on a beautiful and pleasant summer eve. The view couldn't be beat and the excellent food (plus rare offering of beer) made it a great choice. I guess the place is an expat hangout, because someone from our group randomly met up with a classmate from Middlebury College, and a large group of French students dined behind us. Its probably the good eats, views, and booze that draws us all, along with Damascus' upper class.

View of the Ummayyid Mosque from our roof-top dinner.

On Saturday we returned to check out the inside of the mosque and do some shopping at suq hamidiyya. Our ladies had to dawn some drab gray robes for the visit inside the mosque, but fortunately the patriarchy only required me to take off my sandals. The mosque has a giant walled courtyard and a vast prayer room covered with carpets, inside of which lies the tomb of John the Baptist (also a holy figure for Muslims). Self-directed wanderings and photos are the norm in the mosque. Actually I didn't feel that out of place compared to the giant Asian tour group making its way about the place. We also checked out the (supposed) resting place of the crusades hero Salahidin, which turned out to be not as impressive as his statue outside the old city walls.

The suq is absolutely filled with people on Saturdays. Not only do small shops line its sides--divided into sections according to their fare: spices, gold, trinkets, hukahs :), etc,--but pushy vendors also try to hawk their stuff in the middle of the wide streets. I did my share of gift-getting (after some haggling, which made me feel good about my Arabic), and also picked up a kufiyya for myself. Rather than dawn it Yasser Arafat-style, I prefer to wear it as kind of a messy scarf. I think it's a good (and stylish) compromise for the Westerner. Oh, and another random expat encounter: one shop we bought some refreshments from opened up into a courtyard and the owner's house. When he heard that we were studying Arabic he invited us all in to meet the Swathmore College student he was hosting for the year as an exchange student. The guy was only a week into his stay so he was probably pretty pumped to see some other Americans about town. It's also refreshing to know they're are other people crazy enough to just jump into immersion language study in the region.

Anyway--finally, we took a walking tour of the Christian quarter led by Medhat. He is a native Lebanese but met his wife in Damascus and was a great tour guide. We saw St. Anis' underground chapel and tracked St. Paul's trip through the city, including the spot where he was lowered over the walls in a basket to escape some angry Jewish residents. I'm a little rusty on my Biblical history I will admit, so the tour was doubly-educational. We also squeezed in some trips to various denominational churches--Greek Orthodox, Maronite, etc. before calling it a day and grabbing some quality food at Medhat's favorite haunt in the middle of the new city.

The only real downside to the trip (besides perhaps a 10pm return time on a school night) was the stomach bug I brought back with me to Irbid. No details necessary but suffice it to say it kept me from running for another two days.

Alright, long post. Plus I'm tired. I'm planning a trip to Amman with some folks this weekend for some more city exploration + night clubbing (not available in sleepy Irbid), so more after that trip for sure if not before.

Salahidin