2006: Damascus: Mosque Party!

I had finally made it to Damascus after a fun journey. I was dropped off at al-Haramein hotel on Sharia Bahsa, got a room, threw my shit down, brushed my teeth, and took a long-overdue shower. Despite having not slept since the ferry the previous day, I felt envigorated and went out into Damascus.

It was immediately apparent that I was in Syria: pictures of Bashar al-Assad everywhere. Not just on giant billboards, but on the backs of cars and in store windows, like a mustachioed icon, a saint in sunglasses. Some back car windows even had the trinity of the current president, his late father the former president, and his late brother the former heir to the Republic (all in sunglasses naturally).






I followed the copied pages from the Lonely Planet Middle East and went to Suq al-Hamidiyya. Since it was Friday the street was pretty empty and most of the shops were closed. But the Ummayad Mosque was sure open!

There are seperate entrances for tourists and the faithful, the former needing to give up about a dollar in entrance fees and don a black abaya. Once inside, you can wander and photograph to your heart's content, as I did. It was after Friday prayers so it wasn't stuffed, but still had a bit of activity. The Ummayyad Mosque was a Roman temple to Jupiter turned into a Christian church under the Byzantine Empire then turned into a mosque under the Ummayyad Empire. It's very cool because vestiges of the mosque's previous incarnations are visibile: the structure. The mosaics looked Byzantine to me.

Just outside the mosque are the bones of the gosh darn bestest Muslim in the world (at least according to every Crusader): Salah ad-Din. Without much fanfare or signage, twin sarcophogi are lit up by green florescent lights. Salah ad-Din was buried in a wooden sarcophagus in 1193, but in 1893 Kaiser Wilhelm II of Germany donated a marble one. The body was never transferred so there remain the two.

Away from the Ummayyad mosque, I went to the Shi'i Sayyida Ruqayya Mosque, daughter of Hussein grandson of the Prophet. Built by Iran, Lonely Planet finds the mosque "quite alien, but very striking, Persian".Those with better standing to evaluate Persianity must judge. I once again was handed a temporary abaya (this time by a man, who also tried to help me secure it). Handing it back to him when leaving I discovered that he spoke English, and he discovered that I was an unsaved soul in need to proselytizing. "Meet me tomorrow. I will tell you all about Islam" he said, giving me a paper with his number. He was cute, and I wondered if he was trying to convert me, hit on me, or both.

I was mosqued out so I ate some falafel (delicious) and made for Azem Palace, residence of the wali (governor) of Damascus during the Ottoman Empire. I took a free tour in Arabic, of which I understood a surprisingly large amount (surprising to me). I even asked a couple of questions. The guide was very impressed, as many people are when a foreigner, especially an American, speaks Arabic. Sadly, the bar is set very low: I guess "Sabah al-gheer" is a welcome change from "EX-CUSE me, do YOU SPEAK ENGLISH? ENGLISH?", at least in Egypt. In Syria people were surprised that I was even in their country.

COMING UP: I explore the Christian Quarter which means Church Party!