Defending Itself

Why is the blockade of Gaza and military incursions always compared to the damn rockets? As if they are morally equivalent? As if they are anywhere on the same scale? The New York Times describes the bombing as "retaliation for rocket fire from the area".

"The Palestinian groups again launched barrages of rockets and mortars into Israel on Sunday, extending their reach further than ever before, and the Israeli government approved the emergency call up of thousands of army reservists in preparation for a possible ground operation."

and later: "Israeli military officials said that the airstrikes, which began on Saturday morning, were the start of what could be days or even months of an effort to force Hamas to end its rocket barrages into southern Israel."

That makes it sound somewhat similar! In fact, it's as if the Israelis are only responding or even retaliating for this horrible barrage of rockets.

Currently around 280 Palestinians dead, with at least 600 wounded. "Several Israelis were lightly wounded by shrapnel."

Yup, sounds about equivalent.

Yes! Just Like That!

Did you know every social movement in any other society has an antecedant in American history? No?

I'm sick of seeing articles or hearing events in other cultures place somewhere on the American (or Western European) timeline. This is especially blatant with women's issues, but exists in other contexts, like this article in the NY Times today on "Jordanian Students Embracing Conservative Islam"

Across the Middle East, young people like Mr. Fawaz, angry, alienated and
deprived of opportunity, have accepted Islam as an agent of change and
rebellion. It is their rock ’n’ roll, their long hair and love beads. Through
Islam, they defy the status quo and challenge governments seen as corrupt and
incompetent.

Wow! Our rebellion was so innocent, with love beads and long hair, while theirs is Islam. I assume the journalist is attempting to help Americans understand this phenomenon by relating it something they know. But would that passage really suffer desprived of that reference? I doubt it. Why can't the Jordanians feel angry and alienated and want change without it being related to some American social movement from 40 years ago?

First Name Last Name

This is something I noticed while translating at the UNFPA: first names are formal. When putting out a press release, a person would naturally first be mentioned with their full title and name, but subsequent mentions could be shortened to as-sayed Ahmad (Mr. Ahmad) or ad-docktora Leena (Dr. Leena). In the English versions, of course, I'd have to refer to them by title and last name. So it seems there's none of that awkward "May I call you by your first name?"

That's it. Just an observation.

Not That There's Anything Wrong With That

I was watching al-Jazeera a couple days ago, and caught a report on AIDS. It was a small report, mostly a chat with an expert in the studio. They threw up a graphic on the sources of AIDS transmission (I don't remember if this was supposed to be world-wide or Arab world only). The sources included unknown, blood transfusions, gays (شذوذ), drugs, and by far the largest category: zena (زنا).

First of all, I was surprised that homosexuals were referred to as shuzuz, instead of مثليون, which is usually used in formal writing. The latter word refers to "similar" like the word homo, while shaz means different. Like irregular verbs in grammar are shaz. I thought that word was strictly 'ammiyya, and kind of an insult.

And on the sex. I thought the word zena meant "adultery" but have been told it generally refers to all extra-marital, harram sex. Fornication.

So much for de-stigmitization of HIV/AIDS. Why do you have this disease? Because of dirty, dirty zena, you whore. This despite one of the fastest-growing groups of HIV/AIDS cases is women in (supposedly) monogamous relationships (there's more recent links but I'm lazy).

Shoes update

Two days after letting the store manager send the shoes off to the factory, he called us. Yes, the factory had found a flaw so the Dutchman could get a new pair or his money back. He opted for the cash. To celebrate the improbable victory we went to Vitality, a bar in Jeramana that has to be one of the coolest in Damascus, if it had more business. We played Syrians vs. Ajanab pool, in which I shamed my people.

Afterwards I stopped my Im Tareq's house, where I had left my purse earlier.
"I was just watching the news," she said, "and they were interviewing ajanab in America about the shoes. All of them were laughing!"
I had told her before that a majority of the American people weren't too fond of their leader.

Shoes!

I got shoes on the brain, though I didn't catch the news at all yesterday - I was too busy arguing at a shoe store.

A Dutch journalist friend with a name like a fan manufacturer bought a pair of shoes, workman boot types, from a store in Jeramana. He paid quite a bit, 1200 lira. Within the first day of wearing them, he realized there were problems. The left one had unfinished leather that rubbed against his sock, making holes, and the right one's toe was made improperly and cut into his foot. He hobbled around painfully before calling me up to try to return them and get a less painful pair.

Tariq and Ali, came with, predicting success was a longshot. "But take me and I'll speak Allawi," joked Ali.

The salesman, whose eyebrows were so light I thought he didn't have any at first, took one look at the shoes.
"These have been worn. I can't take them back."
"They were only worn once. This is obviously a flaw in manufacturing. The toe of the left one is fine and the toe of the right one is crap."
"Obviously some one stepped on it."
"THIS from someone stepping on it? It's obviously manufactured differently."

Tariq led the charge, with the Dutchman's and my occaisonal input. Ali mostly hung out in the background, offering mostly moral support. The salesman, and his manager, maintained that someone must have stepped on the toe of the shoe, resulting in it to be a different shape.
"How weak is that shoe? When he bought it the salesman assured him they were the strongest shoes available. One day and it breaks?"
"All the shoes are like that! I can get out other pairs and you can see."
"Ok show us."
"Ya Ahkhi there's nothing wrong with that shoe, it got stepped on. It would happen to all shoes."
"He can't wear the shoe it's so painful."

Tariq challenged the man to prove that it would happen to all shoes. The shoes' twin, for example, held its shape despire being worn for a day. The salesman assured him that, if stepped on, it would hold the same shape. Tariq put the shoe down, stamped on the toe a couple of time, and put it back on the counter. It held its shape, not sharing its brother's fate.
"It must have been stepped on in a different way."

The argument was getting quite dramatic, what with shoe-stomping theatrics. The Dutchman turned to a customer about to buy the same type of shoes and told him, "Don't get them. These broke after one day. They're bad boots." The manager did not appreciate the quality review. He told us to take the shoes to the goverment goods office, or offered to ship the shoes back to the factory. If there is indeed something wrong, it's from the factory and not from me.
"You're responsible for what you sell in your store," the Dutchman maintained.

The manager posited that he had nothing to do with the shoes once they left the store. You could walk out of his store and have a car run over the shoes and that's not his responsibility.

"Do you think he had a car run over his boot? For fun?"

The manager agreed to send the shoes back to the factory. Though we failed, Tariq enjoyed the arguing, so all was not lost.
"It's hard for me to speak when I'm angry," the Dutchman said.
"Oh, just wait. Angry Arabic is the most fun of all," I told him.

Today I was told twice before noon about Bush's shoe incident yesterday, where an Iraqi journalist for al-Baghdadiyya threw his shoes at Bush. First while buying fatayir for breakfast, then at the internet cafe where I am filling in more grad school applications. The guy working there was joking with another about it, then turned to me.
"You don't like Bush, do you," he said, joking. The first time I came into this internet cafe he asked me the same question more seriously. I told him the majority of Americans in Syria don't like Bush, as his supporters are probably scared of Arabs and Syrians especially.
"Bravo to the journalist!" I said.

Getting Down at Eid

I was invited up to Aleppo for Eid by my boyfriend's family. They are no strangers to the draw of ajnabiyyat as his uncle is married to a Russian woman. We went out to dinner all together the first day,a group of more than 20 plus innumerous children running around everywhere (bill was only 8000 lira). Every one thought it was a little weird I don't eat meat, but Abd al-Karim's wife doesn't either so at least I had an ally. I've meet the uncle and his Rusiyya wife before, but this was the first time I had seen her outside of the house and was surprised to see she's muhajiba. Since last summer, she said.

"Maybe you'll be hijabing eventually too."
"Impossible."
"Why?" She and two of the other uncle's daughters leaned in.
"I already have enough trouble matching pants and shirts - match a hijab too? Impossible. I see how all the muhajibas got it going on - matching it all up. Look at me - today I'm wearing blue and black and white and green with a red coat. It's a disaster."


They laughed, and the subject was dropped. I thought this was easier than responding as I had, throughout Ramadan, to inquiries why I wasn't fasting: "I'm not Muslim." This would usually have to be expanded on with reference to Lent.
"Why don't you just try fasting?"
"I did Lent, so I'm good." or "We have our own fasting time." ("We" being Christians).

But this is just dishonest, and slids into that murky grey area where a little lie about being a Christian turns into immense discussions in which I have to defend Catholic theology. Not that I thought a pleasant Eid dinner would turn to dicussions of the divinity of Jesus; but still in awe of Syrian women's ability to put together an outfit, this is more true than professing my devotion to the Christian faith.


But luckily the family's religiosity on hijab did not extend to alcohol, and we were able to enjoy a regular bachanal (well, kind of). The second day of Eid we went to a Saher (staying-up-late) party at the Jalal Sport Club, decked out to look like not a sports club. On the way in I whispered to my boyfriend, asking if there would drink, and if so, would it be alright to drink in front of his family. He said probably, but since we're still on the trying-to-impress them stage, only if others are drinking.

There was a bottle of whiskey waiting for us at the table, with uncles and a cousin already sipping it neat. Most every other table had wine or whiskey as well. The table was overfilling with appetizers, most of which were meatless. A known singer entertained and during particularly engaging songs half the congregation got up to boogie. We ate and drank and danced till well past 2am. It was interesting to celebrate a Muslim holiday with a family where most of the women veil and the whiskey is liberally poured. I think there's a conception in America that Muslims as a rule are very religious and strict, when proponents of any faith vary in adherence to the letter and spirit of the Law.

But glad we're in agreement alcohol is the way to celebrate a holiday.