This Summer

I was working this summer on the perpetually soon-to-be-launched Baladna English newspaper, which meant hours in front of a computer, writing, leaving me in no mood to write more later. Thus the many amazing and amusing anecdotes that happen to me daily were left unblogged for posterity. Sorry.

And now, I have returned to the States after two years of being away (save for that month to visit grad schools in March). I was wondering what should I do with the blog- obviously I can't record my life in Syria since that life has ceased to exist. My original intent with the blog was to assure family and friends that I was alive with each entry and present a different picture of Syria, one of daily life.

But there's still a bit of shit to write about, including the overland journey to Istanbul and my unrelated desire to start learning Turkish. Completely unrelated.

Back in the States

Well, the Syrian adventure is over for now. This is naturally not the last time I will be visiting Syria but at least for the next couple of years my base is US. Miss it already!

Doubts

I had a dream last night that I turned down my fellowship to grad school, moved back to New York, and started waitressing at a place called "Pizza and Beer". It was a no-frills restaurant, selling solely those two items. My parents called me and told me I was throwing away my life and how on earth could I turn down a scholarship to kiza school.

Is this a reflection of my trepidation to leave Syria and start school, as I will in a scarily close amount of time? I have only two weeks left in Syria. Oh, crap.

Power Outages

It's been getting worse and worse all summer. Luckily I'm at air-conditioned work most days, so I only experience the misery of early afternoon without even a fan only Friday and Saturday. Our power goes out at work as well, but then the lights come back on with the generator. Unfortunately the generator doesn't power the AC, so we have to live without it for a few hours. But I'm in a basement so it could be worse.

Tareef said he saw it announced on the tv that every area is going to experience 4 hours of no power every day until November.

In Jeramana we've been experiencing no power from 11am-2pm and then from 8-9pm. But yesterday, without warning, no cuts at all. A fluke or a sign we're coming into some electricity?

Transexuals on Syrian TV

A Syrian muselsel (television series) will feature a female-to-male transexual person as part of the storyline this Ramadan. According to an online newspaper Nowwirth (نوَرث), who has been compiling a list of Ramadan muselsels since May, among the Syrian shows is Shita Sakhen (Hot Winter), which is about:

مسلسل شتاء ساخن 2009
ملخص القصة: يعالج العمل مجموعة من القضايا الإشكالية في المجتمع انطلاقا من جريمة قتل تحدث بقصد السرقة حيث يتفجر الصراع بين أقطاب العصابة ومن خلالهم تتشعب الخطوط الدرامية لتتناول أموراً تتعلق بصراع يعيشه الابن الضابط لدى معرفه حقيقة والده السارق، وكيف تكون ردة فعل أب تفاجئه ابنته بالحقيقة فهي (متحولة جنسياً) وأجرت عملية لتصحح الحالة المرضية التي تعيشها وتتحول إلى ذكر ولكن هل سيتقبلها أهلها والمجتمع ؟ وهل ستتصرف كذكر ?

بطولة: عباس النوري, باسم ياخور

Series Hot Winter 2009

Story summary: This work addresses a number of problematic issues in society arising from a murder done in order to steal, which erupts into conflict between gang leaders through which much more drama plotlines arise to deal with issues concerning the struggle of an officer's son who knowns the truth about his father being a thief, and what will be the reaction of a father surprised by his daughter, for she is a transexual and has begun a process to correct the sick situation that she lives and transform into a male. But will her family and the community accept her? And will she act like a male?

Starring: Abbas al-Nouri, Basim Yakhour

Sorry for my rough translation. I am interested to see how gang warfare will interact with a FTM person's struggle for acceptance.

I noticed the summary uses feminine pronouns even after discussing "her" transformation. Also, the language used to describe the process makes it sound like a medical condition, and by undergoing the sex change she will be "corrected". And of course the final question: will she act like a male? If the sex change is to "correct" her, i.e. she was just born into the wrong body, then her challenges of "becoming" or acting male would be related to the effects of society raising her as a girl, not something innate (as innately, she is male). And who will play her? Dude or lady?

Something else to consider: this same show was mentioned in an Baladna article about its being bought by an Emirati station to show during Ramadan along with another show, and the summary given their did not mention anything but the gang warfare and murder. So is the transexual angle really a part of the story, or just something on this random website?

It makes me think of how sex change operations are covered by the state in Iran, while homosexuality is illegal. It seems that changing a person's sex might be considered as fixing a doctor's mistake (if the person was born intersex). Even if that's not the case, the denial of homosexuality but acceptance of transexual people - does this mean that transexuals are not seen as upsetting to gender dichotomies? If you are a man who is attracted to men, you can become a woman, but to remain a man with those feelings is "unnatural"?

I don't know much about transexual people in Syria - is the procedure even done here? I'm sure there have to be some people but maybe they have hormone therapy and operations abroad - like in Iran?

I'm not an expert on transexual issues, so these are just my uninformed initial opinions. I am really interested to see how the show will treat this character, her transformation, and her family's reaction. Will it uphold strict gender dichotomies or complicate them? I'm bummed I'll be leaving just as Ramadan starts - someone will have to send me the street DVDs once it finishes. Can I get NileSat in Northern Cali?

UPDATE: The director of Shita Sakhen, Feras Dahani, confirmed that a transman is indeed an element of the series when someone I knew called him.

Trapped

I was getting ready for work when the doorbell rang. 10 minutes to eight. This has happened before, though normally a somewhat sane hour like 9. Um Tareq has some rude friends, who think nothing of dropping in at 8 or 9am, before calling ahead, and then act surprised that we're asleep. Actually, most of her friends aren't like that, but Um Ra'id is. She's come before early. I figured if I just ignored her she would go away. Um Tareq was sleeping and I really didn't want to let this woman in to wake her up. Time passed. She didn't leave, just reminded us of her prescence every four minutes by ringing the bell again. After 15 minutes, it was pretty clear she wasn't going to leave anytime soon. The bells woke Um Tareq up eventually and we stood in the courtyard whispering.
"God she is so annoying," said Um Tareq.
"Why don't you just tell her not to come, you are sleeping?"
"I've told her daughter-in-law to not let her come this early."
"Why don't you tell her?"
"Eib!"

It got to the point where I had to leave for work, but Um Ra'id wasn't budging. "I have to get going."
"Wait, wait!"
"I could tell her you are sleeping."
"It doesn't matter, she'll come in. If only she had come later in the day, you could tell her I wasn't here, but now it's too early for me to be gone"
I was trapped. Another 10 minutes and I really should be going, so Um Tareq acquiesed.

I thought Um Tareq should go lie down so at least the woman would feel bad about waking her, but instead she went and opened the door. Um Ra'id came in, saying, "i've been waiting for a long time? Where were you"
"Sleeping"
"Sleeping!"

Back in Syria

I am back in Syria, safe and sound and all in one piece.

Iran was interesting, to be completely undescriptive. After 11 days, I was glad to be back. Getting off of the IranAir plane, I immediately let the loosely draped scarf on my head fall off and began to unbutton my manteau. To be honest, the scarf was not that much of a nuisance and amoung the young things I interacted with in Iran, it is completely a joke: you wear a manteau and hijab to a party, then strip; push the hijab back as far as you can to reveal dyed-blond hair; roll up the sleeves of the manteau; the hijab falls off and you place it back precariously at the back of your head; you lift the hijab to smooth your hair under it; you wear a thin hijab that covers only the top of your head and your hair cascades down your back underneath it. It was very simple to see who would take it off tomorrow if the law changed and who would keep it by their current style. Upon my return, Um Tareq asked how I had liked the hijab ("maybe you'll like it and keep wearing it here" she had hoped before I left). I demonstrated my "hijab" and she laughed. When Syrian ladies wear the hijab, they wear it right: that hair don't show. Of course, those are the ones that want to wear, while the ones that don't, don't. There's really no way to denigrate a religious symbol than to make it compulsory.

But it did feel nice to get some air under my manteau. Which was my main clothing grip - not the hijab, but my manteau. Years ago I bought a cool green past-the-knees thin wool jacket in a New York church basement thrift shop ($20). As the man with blue hair behind the register commented, it was very "70s Vivienne Westwood". This was right before I moved to Egypt, where the jacket was my only source of heat in the surprisingly cold Egyptian winter - and also could be buttoned all the way up to make a handy manteau. "I will wear this to Iran someday," I thought as my roommate (the friend who took me around recently) related tales of learning to flirt in Tehran.

It might have been good had I come to Iran in not the middle of summer. Out in Isfahan or Shiraz, visiting a mausoleum, mosque, or ruined city, I boiled in the sun. At least I didn't need to use much sunscreen. The worst was sitting in planes at the Tehran and Shiraz airports, waiting for takeoff. We took off late and in the meantime sweat off at least a kilo. In Tehran, I could avail myself to a selection of my friend's cousins chic and summer-appropriate manteaus.

But the main reason it felt so good to come back was Persian. It sounds like a nice language and all, and picking out the loanwords in Arabic and sounding out script that means nothing to me was fun, I missed being able to chat. While I consider myself well-traveled, this was the first time I traveled outside of the Arab world in years. I'm sure my friend was tired of translating everything for me as well. Every taxi ride, political discussion, news item on TV (if watching VOA), had to be translated for my benefit. Translating is a thankless and tiring job.

I have vague ambitions of learning Persian in the future, though this trip didn't contribute much. I learned to count to 10, useless since I didn't learn to say hundred or thousand, which toumans and rials neccesitate. There's a bunch of words from Arabic, and sometimes I would venture an Arabic word only to find that one wasn't absorbed. Of the political graffiti, I could read "Mousavi only" written like the Arabic with faqat pronounced as faghat. I also learned the important phrases "I am a student of Arabic" "nice to meet you" "excuse me" and "I am not a journalist". Thank you is simple enough, merci from the French. Since it was one of the few words I knew, I said it often and am still saying it. In Syria merci is used but it makes you sound a bit stuck-up (maybe just in my opinion).

Tehran: I don't know if I could do it. The city is huge and required long periods of driving or taxis to get around. Despite having been told by people who have visited both that Damascus reminds them of Tehran, I didn't much see the resemblence. It is huge, but not that dense and spreads out forever. The traffic seemed insane to me, and I was there when it was supposedly slow. There's a metro, but I didn't get the chance to test it. Is Tehran the type of city one can get around in without getting in a car?