Yo, You Fat

Every culture has its own boundaries for polite behavior. There's a lot of horribly rude things in Syria that would be considered normal in America, such as not insisting guests eat until they are unable to move or directing them to the fridge to get their own drinks. Of course, there are also completely normal things in Syria that are unspeakably, horribly rude in America. Foremost in my mind is the nonchalance with which people tell others they are fat:

One morning, I greeted Shaza and Rahaf, coworkers of my age I would often chat with, and after the usual pleasantries, Shaza added, "Samnaneh!" or "You're fatter!"

"What?"

"Samnaneh" She repeated. "Been eating lots lately huh?"

Whoa. In America, you could probably sue some one for that. But here, as she explained to me, that's normal. She and the other young woman said they tell each other all the time, "hey, you're fatter!" or "Hey, thinner!". I told them that would be considered totally rude in America.

"But why? I'm just saying you've gained some weight. It's not a bad thing. You're just fatter. We say it all the time. Hey Rahaf, looking thinner! She'll tell me Hey Shaza, you've gained weight. It's normal."

I'll see friends and they'll let me know Nahfaneh! or Samnaneh! I'm still not used to this. While in America people will tell you if you've lost weight, weight gained is not voiced. If I greet some one I haven't seen for a while at Capoeira, the first words besides shloanik and shu akhbarik will be a commentary on my preceived slimmer-ness or fatter-ness.

In the Turkish baths (hammam) the other day, the other ladies had no reservations telling me "you are fatter than her (my companion)" or pointing to my kirsh (belly).

Maybe I'm just too sensitive. Being fat isn't necessarily a bad thing. The girl in Capoeira that every man is in love with was described to me by my friend Saleh as such: "She is fat and it is good!"

Turkish Baths

I have avoided the Turkish baths. I just don't really feel the need to get all naked and chill with people. I can be naked at home (now that I live alone) for free.

But a recent visitor wanted to experience it, so off we went to al-Bakri in the old city. It was 200 to use the baths and 50 for a massage. Another 50 buys a lady to scrub you, but I thought I could manage scrubbing on my own.

I wasn't sure how naked to get. At the Medinat ash-Shabab swimming pool, the locker room attendent asks naked ladies to kindly not be so naked and step into the small changing rooms during periods of nudity. This during ladies' hours. I wondered if I should use this as a guide or not. I asked the bath attendant and she said as you like. In the bath itself, most ladies were wearing panties but a few were without so I figured either way worked.

We steamed for a while, and chatted with some other women who wondered why I spoke Arabic, why my friend didn't, why she was in such good shape. Two of the women there told me of their plan to lose their bellies by steaming every day and I told them they might want to throw in some exercise as well. That's how she's in shape, I said.
"You're fatter than her," the older woman said.
"Yeah, I don't exercise as much." But thanks for the news.

Then we washed and had a massage in a seperate little room. I'm glad I didn't opt for the scrub, which entailed lying on the floor and just seemed to require a lower bar for intimacy than mine.

I went out to escape the heat and ran into a group of American college girls trying to understand the pricing system. I translated, dressed, and felt like not moving again for the rest of the day. I was super clean but from the steam and the massage all I felt like doing was taking a nap.

There's a hamman in Jeramana that I think I might be using in the future when I don't have water for 6 days or so. It seems more respectable than begging friends to let me use their showers.

Driving in Syria

I don't drive. I like to live in cities where it is not a requirement. Since leaving the familial home, I've lived in New York, Cairo, Washington DC and Damascus, none of which require a car. This is at the top of conditions for future living as well.

But I rented a car last week.

Overall, not as much fun as just taking servees. After a year, I'm down with the servees. I know how to get from A to B and if I don't, I just ask. It's easy. With cars, there's oneways and highways and weird-ass twisty streets. I know my way around pretty well as long as I'm on a servess route I know well. Outside of that, not so much.

There are some mad aggressive drivers here! On the Damascus-Homs and Hom-Tartous highways (yes, we went to Krac des Chevaliers) people drive up on your ass if you are in the left lane, no matter that you are actually passing 3 trucks, making it impossible for you to move over now. At night, they not only honk but flash their brights, as if to say MOVEmoveMOVEmoveMOVEmoveMOVEmoveMOVE. Do you not see this truck I am passing? Or the motorcycle I'm passing? Would you like me to move over immediately and just kill the dude? Even when there were trucks in both lanes, meaning one has to slow down and wait for a lane to clear up, there would be a dude on my ass blinking his brights and honking. Come on!

In the city, lanes lines are apparently suggestions.

Some roads aren't marked all that well, which is how I ended up a bunch of villages when returning from Tartous at night. But on the upside, I got to ask some people for directions and the Tartousi accent is so cute! Really adorable. I could listen to a Tartousi man giving me directions to the autrostrad all day.

Driving is also expensive. Filling up my tank is at least 2000 lira ($40) and that stuff seems to go quick. Servees and inter-city buses are better by far.

But parking in Damascus appears to be mostly free. Except when it's not, like last night around Sahat Arnous. I didn't see any signs, and came back after an hour to find a boot on my car. Turns out a block away there was a small sign about paying 50 lira an hour for parking. The man was very nice, and told me since I didn't know we'll just pretend I paid him for an hour and he'll tear up the ticket. He thought I was Russian (many do) but when I said, no, American he congratulated me on my new president.

Protesting on Cue?

The Syrian nightly news on Thursday night, the day of the protests, was all about the raid. The first segment was a long piece about the protests. There were many, many interviews with protestors: several men, a kid who started crying when talking about how the Americans came in and killed eight innocent people, a teenage girl with a Lattakian accent who said that Syrians can't be quiet, they need to let America know that this is their land and they will defend it.

I was watching the newscast with a friend's family. They agreed that the crying kid was moving, but... c'mon mubaligha shway (little exaggeration)? Tareq said he would understand if the kid was from Albou Kamal, but he's Shami. Effective kid though.

It was especially angering to see the condenscending New York Times write-up of the protests, "As if on Cue, Syrians Protest U.S. Incursion on Their Soil". Would that cue be the U.S. incursion on their soil and the killing of a bunch of civilians? No, no, according to the writer the entire thing is stage-managed by the Syrian Government. It would have to be, because obviously Syrians wouldn't feel real anger about this or anything.

The writer continues, basically saying, "So not that I was there and watched it or anything, but I saw it on the BBC and it (now actual quote) 'seemed likely that the government had orchestrated the protest, which looked precisely timed and organized.'" He then later calls the raid the "boldest" strike by American commandos since the invasion of Iraq. Yippee!

Ok, obviously protests here need the approval of the government, but that doesn't necessarily mean the emotions or anger of the protestors are less valid. Is it too hard to believe that the Syrian people would be, as their government is as well, outraged by the strike?

The rest of the of the Syrian broadcast featured the Minister of Social Affairs and Labor, who had been sent to the village by the president. She offered condolences and hugged children (Um Tareq exclaiming "Olee! So dirty!"). One little boy told what happened, with the two helicoptors landing, and how the soldiers came out speaking foreigner and firing in all directions. His accent was almost unintelligble for me, but then it was for every one else in the room as well. The Minister gave a very nice speak though I can't remember what she said.

And then the next day I bought some shampoo at a little store near my new apartment. "Where are you from?" the woman working there asked.
"America"
"America! Haha, we all want to go there and you come here! Welcome, welcome!"
In the end, she knocked 15 lira off the price of the shampoo because "it's your first time in my store. Welcome!"

I mean, sorry America, but I can't imagine a foreigner getting that kind of treatment in America if their country just attacked it.

Voting

I voted yesterday. The absentee ballot finally arrived two days ago. I did what I usually do during elections, since I have always been outside of my State. I googled the candidates to see their positions. This is especially helpful for the judges' races, which in Michigan are non-partisan. Just names on a ballot. But with a little googling I find their endorsements. "Voters for Traditional Values" supports you? No thanks!

The ballot has to be in by the election, so the regular mail was out (usually takes three weeks). I paid 1000 lira for it to be in American in four days. The guy at the post office asked if it was for the election.
"Did you pick McCain or Obama?"
"Obama, of course!"

He smiled and then asked, "He's the black one right?"
"Yes."
"But aren't you worried he might do things against the whites?"
"No." I laughed. Like do what? "His policy is better than McCain's. He might work for better relations with Syria."
"But you are white. You don't know what some one will do once they get power..."
"He will be better than Bush and that's what's important."

I mean, what do you say to that?

The clerk then asked, "He's Muslim, right?"
"No, he's Christian. But his grandfather was Muslim and he lived in Indonesia when he was younger so he should think more internationally than Bush. And he's not scared of Muslims."

I wonder if he got the same email. With all the questions I get about prejudice in America and about how Americans hate Muslims, I'm actually kind of impressed this dude thought America was on the verge of electing a Muslim president.

Demonstrations

The Cultural Center and I imagine, the school, are not closed yet, but the American Embassy is closed today for security reasons. I was there yesterday trying to get some paperwork and everything seemed normal. I heard there had been demonstrations, but yesterday morning the Embassy was quiet as Abu Romaneh usually is.

Finally saw three demonstrations on the way to Baramke this morning. Mostly school boys holding aloft flags and pictures of the president, chanting as they walk down the street and not to school.

Surprise!

So the American Cultural Center is still up and running. They've received no official word from the government to shut down. I imagine this is true for the school as well. So despite all the press reports on Syrian media, they're not closed. Yet.