are becoming a bit annoying. They were common during the summer, every midday (this on the authority of my roommate, as I was usually at backup-generator-powered work). This fall it seemed the power was out most mornings when I woke up, meaning I just changed my routine to shower at night.
Sometimes the power would go out at night, and I would admire the moon. I had never noticed how bright the moon is, that you can actually see things, in detail, by moonlight. That moonlight casts shadows. I noticed this while standing on the stairway next to my open door. Neighbors would pass by and look at me confusedly. I just smiled and said Hi, because explaining that an axe killer might be hiding in my apartment, waiting for a power outage as the opportune time to strike, might get me labled as crazy. With candles, things got better.
But now, power outages are not only daily but several times a day. Today, I have experienced four. The power was out when I woke up, went out at the internet cafe, went out during dinner, and went out when I went back to the internet cafe to finish my previous interrupted session.
But then the power comes back on after a half hour, hour, whatever, we turn the TV to al-Jazeera and watch Gaza coverage. And I realize I should stop my bitching - if I were to trip and injure myself on a power- and moonless night, at least the hospital would have fucking gauze. And not destroyed by a bomb or tankfire.
Showing posts with label scary places. Show all posts
Showing posts with label scary places. Show all posts
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
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.
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.
Sunday, November 2, 2008
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.
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.
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
Reaction to American Raid
The fallout from the American raid in Syria on Sunday is beginning. It's been announced that the American School and American Cultural Center is going to be closed in retaliation.
The American School, like others all over the world, follows American curriculum and has classes in English. A lot of the teachers are Americans (I've only met 3, who are here for an "adventure" and don't speak any Arabic). The kids of different embassies' employees go there, the kids of multinational corps and orgs employees, plus some well-to-do Syrians. It's got some posh real estate in Abu Romaneh, near al-Jahiz Park and the Air Force building. The Cultural Center is connected to the embassy and does pretty innocuous stuff like advise Syrian students who want to study in the US and have a weekly movie night.
I'm surprised, since I was in the American Cultural Center today picking up my absentee ballot and nobody mentioned anything or seemed flustered.
What's not closing is the American Language Center (where I just took my GRE Saturday), which is generally acknowledged to be among the best places to learn English in Damascus.
About the raid itself, I hear American media saying the dead are militants including some big fish Iraqi named Abu Ghadiya. But of course they would say that (how long does it take American officials to admit to various bombings of weddings in Afghanistan?) The Syrian media is saying the raid took place at a farm and all the dead are civilians, including three children. How much of either can be believed?
The one thing every non-Syrian news source, Arab and American, agrees on is the location being Abu Kamal, despite that the name is actually al-Bou Kamal. It's ok American journalists, I saw al-Jazeera get it wrong this morning as well.
But the one fallback that I'm not expecting, and that the American community in Syria has been advised to keep a lookout for, it the personal. While I would fully expect Americans to bear personal animosity for the nationals of a country that attacked them (just look at the rise in hate crimes against Muslims after 9/11) I don't expect it of Syrians. Today I ate dinner at a friend's house. The topic came on the news and they asked me why America would do that and if I thought it was a bad thing to kill those poor people. But it wasn't like I was being blamed, just that maybe being an American would give me some insight.
But in terms of the reaction for being in a country that is attacked by your country? To me, closing the school and the cultural center isn't all that bad. In Sha Allah they'll open again later. I might need a job teaching at that American school someday!
The American School, like others all over the world, follows American curriculum and has classes in English. A lot of the teachers are Americans (I've only met 3, who are here for an "adventure" and don't speak any Arabic). The kids of different embassies' employees go there, the kids of multinational corps and orgs employees, plus some well-to-do Syrians. It's got some posh real estate in Abu Romaneh, near al-Jahiz Park and the Air Force building. The Cultural Center is connected to the embassy and does pretty innocuous stuff like advise Syrian students who want to study in the US and have a weekly movie night.
I'm surprised, since I was in the American Cultural Center today picking up my absentee ballot and nobody mentioned anything or seemed flustered.
What's not closing is the American Language Center (where I just took my GRE Saturday), which is generally acknowledged to be among the best places to learn English in Damascus.
About the raid itself, I hear American media saying the dead are militants including some big fish Iraqi named Abu Ghadiya. But of course they would say that (how long does it take American officials to admit to various bombings of weddings in Afghanistan?) The Syrian media is saying the raid took place at a farm and all the dead are civilians, including three children. How much of either can be believed?
The one thing every non-Syrian news source, Arab and American, agrees on is the location being Abu Kamal, despite that the name is actually al-Bou Kamal. It's ok American journalists, I saw al-Jazeera get it wrong this morning as well.
But the one fallback that I'm not expecting, and that the American community in Syria has been advised to keep a lookout for, it the personal. While I would fully expect Americans to bear personal animosity for the nationals of a country that attacked them (just look at the rise in hate crimes against Muslims after 9/11) I don't expect it of Syrians. Today I ate dinner at a friend's house. The topic came on the news and they asked me why America would do that and if I thought it was a bad thing to kill those poor people. But it wasn't like I was being blamed, just that maybe being an American would give me some insight.
But in terms of the reaction for being in a country that is attacked by your country? To me, closing the school and the cultural center isn't all that bad. In Sha Allah they'll open again later. I might need a job teaching at that American school someday!
Sunday, June 8, 2008
Humped
Thursday night I was attacked. I was pretty tired from my week of pre-7am rising, and wanted to clear my head, so I went for a walk. While the main streets in Jerimana are bustling at almost all hours, you don't have to walk too far to hit farms and a little desolation. I needed to get away from noise and people for a bit. I walked this way before at 11pm with some friends, including guys. It wasn't yet 8:30 pm when I left home.
I was walking along a road near a field. There are small farms and the occaisonal apartment building on this road, with the lights of Jerimana not far behind me. While not busy, there were cars, bikes, and other walkers passing by in frequent intervals. I walked next to a pile of dirt and a young man, who had been crouched behind it, started walking very quickly towards me, when a car turned the corner and man's pace relaxed. I yelled at him, "What are you doing? What was that?" and kept walking, thinking maybe I had misinterpreted the situation. A second car, behind the first, passed and the man came running at me. I started yelling at him to leave me alone, and when he got near hit him with my bag and tried to aim for his face with my other hand. He tried to kiss me, and though I managed to prevent that, I got humped as he tried to grope things, when the headlights of a car came up the road. He ran, grabbing his bike that he had hidden alongside the road.
I flagged down the car, a taxi with a man sitting next to the driver. Clearly shaken and freaked out, I yelled that the guy on the bike attacked me.
"Why are you walking by yourself?"
I said I was going to a friends house, but thinking "Why does that fucking matter?" They invited me to get in the car and I thought they would try to catch up with bikeattacker, but instead they just questioned me why I was out by myself, where I lived, and what the guy had taken from me. "Did he take your wallet? your bag?"
"He didn't take anything, he attacked me."
"But he didn't take anything?"
"No, he attacked me."
The passenger muttered "harassement," as though I were silly to get so worked up over it. I got out of the car at the beginning of the road, where the streets were bustling.
I felt like maybe I shouldn't have been walking alone. It's strange that the first time I go walking by myself in a non busy area I get attacked. Everyone likes to talk about how safe Syria is, and not that my one little incident negates the true general low incidence of crime and especially violent crime, but for all the years I've lived in the horribly unsafe and crimeridden (according to popular opinion) States nothing like that has ever happened to me. Running through much more desolate areas of Michigan pre-dawn or after nightfall in sportsbra and shorts, walking home from the subway to my apartments in Brooklyn and Long Island City at 3am: nothing.
Friday afternoon I had some friends over and some one made the whole Syria is completely safe argument, to which I told what happened the night before. The guys were flabbergasted, saying that was a weird thing that hardly ever happens. They also could not believe that the men in the car had reacted like that, saying that most Syrian guys would chase the guy down. "Syrians love to be heroes." It was suggested that I return to the same spot and walk around as bait, while two of my guyfriends hide in the bushes so they can get anyone who messes with me.
The ladies present refuted the idea that this shit is rare, with examples. Not that some one full on attacking is common, but harrassment (not meaning verbal. Verbal harrassment or catcalling is talteesh, while if its physical it is taharrosh)
I was heartened though, when I pointed out that it had only been 9pm and Tariq said, "That doesn't matter. You should be able to walk around at 2am naked without being attacked."
I don't mean this post to reinforce the stereotype that Arab men are sex-starved maniacs. Obviously the vast majority of men do not attempt to hump women on the street. But there there is a lack of awareness about harrassment among guys. When one of my friends refused to believe that this kind of stuff happens more than "hardly ever" he said he'd never heard of such an incidence before tonight. Really? How often do you hang out with girls and how often would they be comfortable talking about it to you? He then cast a critical eye on several of Manar's anecdotes, because she said this had happened to her cousin, that to her friend. "Syrians exaggerate. A guy says he saw a hat with 4 colors and after a month the hat had 200 colors." He also said it was women's fault for not making a bigger scene when something like this happens.
I'm just feeling very pissed off about the incident.
I was walking along a road near a field. There are small farms and the occaisonal apartment building on this road, with the lights of Jerimana not far behind me. While not busy, there were cars, bikes, and other walkers passing by in frequent intervals. I walked next to a pile of dirt and a young man, who had been crouched behind it, started walking very quickly towards me, when a car turned the corner and man's pace relaxed. I yelled at him, "What are you doing? What was that?" and kept walking, thinking maybe I had misinterpreted the situation. A second car, behind the first, passed and the man came running at me. I started yelling at him to leave me alone, and when he got near hit him with my bag and tried to aim for his face with my other hand. He tried to kiss me, and though I managed to prevent that, I got humped as he tried to grope things, when the headlights of a car came up the road. He ran, grabbing his bike that he had hidden alongside the road.
I flagged down the car, a taxi with a man sitting next to the driver. Clearly shaken and freaked out, I yelled that the guy on the bike attacked me.
"Why are you walking by yourself?"
I said I was going to a friends house, but thinking "Why does that fucking matter?" They invited me to get in the car and I thought they would try to catch up with bikeattacker, but instead they just questioned me why I was out by myself, where I lived, and what the guy had taken from me. "Did he take your wallet? your bag?"
"He didn't take anything, he attacked me."
"But he didn't take anything?"
"No, he attacked me."
The passenger muttered "harassement," as though I were silly to get so worked up over it. I got out of the car at the beginning of the road, where the streets were bustling.
I felt like maybe I shouldn't have been walking alone. It's strange that the first time I go walking by myself in a non busy area I get attacked. Everyone likes to talk about how safe Syria is, and not that my one little incident negates the true general low incidence of crime and especially violent crime, but for all the years I've lived in the horribly unsafe and crimeridden (according to popular opinion) States nothing like that has ever happened to me. Running through much more desolate areas of Michigan pre-dawn or after nightfall in sportsbra and shorts, walking home from the subway to my apartments in Brooklyn and Long Island City at 3am: nothing.
Friday afternoon I had some friends over and some one made the whole Syria is completely safe argument, to which I told what happened the night before. The guys were flabbergasted, saying that was a weird thing that hardly ever happens. They also could not believe that the men in the car had reacted like that, saying that most Syrian guys would chase the guy down. "Syrians love to be heroes." It was suggested that I return to the same spot and walk around as bait, while two of my guyfriends hide in the bushes so they can get anyone who messes with me.
The ladies present refuted the idea that this shit is rare, with examples. Not that some one full on attacking is common, but harrassment (not meaning verbal. Verbal harrassment or catcalling is talteesh, while if its physical it is taharrosh)
I was heartened though, when I pointed out that it had only been 9pm and Tariq said, "That doesn't matter. You should be able to walk around at 2am naked without being attacked."
I don't mean this post to reinforce the stereotype that Arab men are sex-starved maniacs. Obviously the vast majority of men do not attempt to hump women on the street. But there there is a lack of awareness about harrassment among guys. When one of my friends refused to believe that this kind of stuff happens more than "hardly ever" he said he'd never heard of such an incidence before tonight. Really? How often do you hang out with girls and how often would they be comfortable talking about it to you? He then cast a critical eye on several of Manar's anecdotes, because she said this had happened to her cousin, that to her friend. "Syrians exaggerate. A guy says he saw a hat with 4 colors and after a month the hat had 200 colors." He also said it was women's fault for not making a bigger scene when something like this happens.
I'm just feeling very pissed off about the incident.
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
Racism in America, Outside of It
I was finishing up an English lesson in Sitt Zeinab on Sunday, when an Iraqi dude came into the class and asked me for help. His family found out they had been granted refugee status in America that morning, and they would be moving to Chicago Tuesday (today). The government sets them up with an apartment and English classes for a set period. He was asking if I knew anyone in Chicago that could help him, and if he could get my email just to use as a resource on America. This is the third family from the school that have been granted refugee status. The other two went to Atlanta.
Then the guy asked if he would be safe in Chicago. "Of course!" I said. "It's a nice city, cold in winter, but nice. You have to be careful, but it's not that dangerous."
"But what about the blacks?"
"What?"
"Isn't there a war between the blacks and the whites?"
This is always awkward. Everyone has seen "Crash," in addition to every other movie that addresses race in America. The family I used to live with was surprised when I said something that hinted my non-hatred toward blacks. "But don't most the whites hate the blacks? We saw Crash." Or talking to my friends, when I objected to a conversation in which two participants expressed opposite preferences - one for black chicks and the other for white chicks. "What's wrong with that?"
"You're talking about people like ice cream flavors."
"So? I don't think black women are that attractive. He does. I don't hate blacks. I'm not racist, like Americans."
"We're not all racist!"
"Why are the criminals in TV shows and movies always black?"
"..."
Fuck. While racism obviously exists in America, it isn't THAT bad. Though I'm speaking from a position of white privilege, it's not as if everyone is a frothing racist. I mean, at least there's a committment to recoil at the surface of racism, such as expressing sexual preferences for different races or making "Asian eyes". I struggle with trying to convey racism in America. How, while far from perfect, it's better than it was. How it's not "Crash", but it's not a rainbow of races holding hands and singing. How some films like to delve into racism because it does exist, but that doesn't mean most of White America is on their porches with guns. It's... complicated.
I told the Iraqi dude not to worry about the race war.
"Do the whites hate Arabs? too"
"No, not really. You'll be fine."
Then the guy asked if he would be safe in Chicago. "Of course!" I said. "It's a nice city, cold in winter, but nice. You have to be careful, but it's not that dangerous."
"But what about the blacks?"
"What?"
"Isn't there a war between the blacks and the whites?"
This is always awkward. Everyone has seen "Crash," in addition to every other movie that addresses race in America. The family I used to live with was surprised when I said something that hinted my non-hatred toward blacks. "But don't most the whites hate the blacks? We saw Crash." Or talking to my friends, when I objected to a conversation in which two participants expressed opposite preferences - one for black chicks and the other for white chicks. "What's wrong with that?"
"You're talking about people like ice cream flavors."
"So? I don't think black women are that attractive. He does. I don't hate blacks. I'm not racist, like Americans."
"We're not all racist!"
"Why are the criminals in TV shows and movies always black?"
"..."
Fuck. While racism obviously exists in America, it isn't THAT bad. Though I'm speaking from a position of white privilege, it's not as if everyone is a frothing racist. I mean, at least there's a committment to recoil at the surface of racism, such as expressing sexual preferences for different races or making "Asian eyes". I struggle with trying to convey racism in America. How, while far from perfect, it's better than it was. How it's not "Crash", but it's not a rainbow of races holding hands and singing. How some films like to delve into racism because it does exist, but that doesn't mean most of White America is on their porches with guns. It's... complicated.
I told the Iraqi dude not to worry about the race war.
"Do the whites hate Arabs? too"
"No, not really. You'll be fine."
Sunday, April 13, 2008
A Realistic Fear
There's a profile on Chris Matthews, very loud pundit on CNBC, in the New York Times Magazine, which includes this interesting travel wish:
What? When was the last time anyone got kidnapped in Damacus? Who does that? I sent out an email to his show inviting him to come to Damascus where many Americans and other foreigners go days without being kidnapped. But I guess we aren't big-name media figures like Mr. Matthews.
As we approached the airport gate, Matthews mentioned that he and his wife, Kathleen, have been contemplating a trip to Damascus. It’s something they have wanted to do for a long time. But he worries that he might make an inviting target for a kidnapper. “I can imagine getting some big-name media figure would be a big propaganda catch for them,” Matthews said. “You can imagine what the neocons would say if I were kidnapped. They’d be like, ‘See, Matthews, terrorism isn’t so funny now, is it?’ ”
What? When was the last time anyone got kidnapped in Damacus? Who does that? I sent out an email to his show inviting him to come to Damascus where many Americans and other foreigners go days without being kidnapped. But I guess we aren't big-name media figures like Mr. Matthews.
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
Car Bomb in Damascus
Imad Mughniyeh, a senior Hizbollah commander, was killed last night in a car bomb at around 10:45pm in Kafer Susseh, a residential neighborhood in Damascus. Hizbollah has accused Israel.
While sayara mufakhkhakha (car bomb) is one of my favorite words to say in Arabic (along with shilaymon - straw) it is only because of the repeated خ , while use of the word itself is tragically limited to events no one wants to happen.
While sayara mufakhkhakha (car bomb) is one of my favorite words to say in Arabic (along with shilaymon - straw) it is only because of the repeated خ , while use of the word itself is tragically limited to events no one wants to happen.
Saturday, January 12, 2008
Please Jesus Don't Let Giuliani Win
I've been following the election, though from afar, since it turns out a vote in the Michigan democratic primary will be useless (to punish the state for moving up its primary date, all the democrats pulled out). But I absolutely cannot believe the Republicans that have been dredged up this year. Especially Giuliani.
His New Ad:
OH MY GOD! The middle east is full of people who look middle-easternish and they are angry and Muslim!! Poor Pakistan, at whom many of these references appear to be directed. Haven't we had enough of Bush and lumping everyone in the "Middle East" - an ever-expanding region which has almost reached Cambodia, I think - into a scary group of terrorists?
I hope so. Rudy 2008: Fear is More Effective than Policy or Rudy 2008: Let's Just Bomb Fucking Everybody!
Saturday, December 22, 2007
Egypt Welcomes Me Back
In Damacus, Eid is a rather sedated affair. There are sheep slaughtered in the street, but nothing crazy goes on. Cairo appears to be different.
Rachel and I rolled up into Cairo last night, and it being her first time in the city, we decided to walk around a bit. The streets were full of people, being Eid, and for the most part we just got a few guys saying shit to us, nothing big. We walked over the Nile where tons of brides and grooms were taking pictures with the river and skyline in the background.
Then we were on Sharia Talat Harb in Downtown, not too far from the hotel, just looking for a little cafe to grab a shisha or a tea. The street was full of mostly men, but there were women too. I mean, crazy full of tons of men.
Packs of guys started following us and saying in Arabic "are you Egyptian or foreign? just say something so we know" and then switching to English. It's best to ignore, but then some guy (kid, really, like fucking 19 at the most) grabbed Rachel's ass as he ran by. Then her tit got grabbed, then my ass, all by different dudes. The last one I chased down the street yelling "'aml eh? Haram alek la tilmasni!" Where's a cop when you need one? I yelled at them to leave us alone in Arabic. They followed. It was really fucking frustrating and Rachel said "I don't see how you did this for 5 months." I swear, it really wasn't like this every day, it's just because of Eid.
So hey, welcome back to Cairo!
Rachel and I rolled up into Cairo last night, and it being her first time in the city, we decided to walk around a bit. The streets were full of people, being Eid, and for the most part we just got a few guys saying shit to us, nothing big. We walked over the Nile where tons of brides and grooms were taking pictures with the river and skyline in the background.
Then we were on Sharia Talat Harb in Downtown, not too far from the hotel, just looking for a little cafe to grab a shisha or a tea. The street was full of mostly men, but there were women too. I mean, crazy full of tons of men.
Packs of guys started following us and saying in Arabic "are you Egyptian or foreign? just say something so we know" and then switching to English. It's best to ignore, but then some guy (kid, really, like fucking 19 at the most) grabbed Rachel's ass as he ran by. Then her tit got grabbed, then my ass, all by different dudes. The last one I chased down the street yelling "'aml eh? Haram alek la tilmasni!" Where's a cop when you need one? I yelled at them to leave us alone in Arabic. They followed. It was really fucking frustrating and Rachel said "I don't see how you did this for 5 months." I swear, it really wasn't like this every day, it's just because of Eid.
So hey, welcome back to Cairo!
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
Karachi
So, what was Karachi like? In the middle of the emergency laws, no less. I have 299 pictures of Karachi, including two arial shots, but sadly my computer decided to die. Hopefully a resurrection will occur, but in the meantime I'll have to rely on my powers of description:
Um, Karachi was like, um, cool, and stuff. The frantic reporters on the news (at least that was the situation on al-Jazeera before I left) must have been stationed in Islamabad or Lahore, because I really didn't see anything. On a typical day in Cairo there are far more security forces and police on the streets than I saw in Karachi. Granted, I was mostly in an area called Defense, where the walls are high, with guards at the gates and generators to guard against failures in city power.
The days after the wedding I did get to go visit a shrine, the burial place of a sufi saint who is revered by both Sunnis and Shi'is. They were way more chill than in Arab world: no one even asked me to cover my hair. I also went to a market, where I bought some earrings for myself and little gifts for the family I have now left. I still want to be invited for Friday morning fatour, after all. I also visited a huge public park, which was gorgeous and clean.
Karachi is hot. This was nice, since Syria was cooling when I left, and has been winter ever since I got back. I am cold.
Karachi is colorful. The fabrics are amazing. I have never seen such an array of colors as I saw at the shrine and especially at the wedding. Very, very cool.
Karachi may be dangerous. The last night, the idea of walking 300-ish meters to the Crepe Factory in Defense was nixed as too dangerous. So we piled into two cars and drove. Some people I met there also carry around a "stealing phone", so that if robbed, they can hand over a phone without giving up their real phone and losing all their numbers.
In other words, I have to visit again, possibly even leave Defense or even Karachi. They say Islamabad has beautiful mountains. I have already been invited to a wedding in July!
Um, Karachi was like, um, cool, and stuff. The frantic reporters on the news (at least that was the situation on al-Jazeera before I left) must have been stationed in Islamabad or Lahore, because I really didn't see anything. On a typical day in Cairo there are far more security forces and police on the streets than I saw in Karachi. Granted, I was mostly in an area called Defense, where the walls are high, with guards at the gates and generators to guard against failures in city power.
The days after the wedding I did get to go visit a shrine, the burial place of a sufi saint who is revered by both Sunnis and Shi'is. They were way more chill than in Arab world: no one even asked me to cover my hair. I also went to a market, where I bought some earrings for myself and little gifts for the family I have now left. I still want to be invited for Friday morning fatour, after all. I also visited a huge public park, which was gorgeous and clean.
Karachi is hot. This was nice, since Syria was cooling when I left, and has been winter ever since I got back. I am cold.
Karachi is colorful. The fabrics are amazing. I have never seen such an array of colors as I saw at the shrine and especially at the wedding. Very, very cool.
Karachi may be dangerous. The last night, the idea of walking 300-ish meters to the Crepe Factory in Defense was nixed as too dangerous. So we piled into two cars and drove. Some people I met there also carry around a "stealing phone", so that if robbed, they can hand over a phone without giving up their real phone and losing all their numbers.
In other words, I have to visit again, possibly even leave Defense or even Karachi. They say Islamabad has beautiful mountains. I have already been invited to a wedding in July!
Sunday, November 18, 2007
Flying to Pakistan
I got to the Damascus Airport rather early, after being offered a ride by Anas and Mohammad, relatives of the people I used to live with (have I mentioned I moved the day after I got back from Pakistan?). Waiting, I read a bit of my short story collection, which drew the curious to ask if I was foreign, and then, how I could read Arabic.
"Can you read that?" They would ask, pointing to the open book in my hands. No, I just really like to stare at Arabic and flip pages.
One man was considerably hard to shake. After complimenting my Syrian Arabic, he attempted to get my number. Dude was mad old, by the way. I asked and found out 38 to be exact. Sorry, no number possible.
He didn't give up (all in Arabic, naturally):"Just for friends. Isn't that common in America? Boys and girls are friends in America."
"Usually they are about the same age though."
"How old are you?"
"How old do you think?"
"You look about 17." Ok, so now its even creepier. "So can I have your number? Just for friends."
"No, I have friends. Of my same age."
"What's the problem? Here, it's not weird for men of 38 to marry 20 year old girls."
"Yeah, I'm going to go to my gate now."
"Can I have your number?"
"No."
"If I ask again, will I get a different response?"
"No, same response. Bye." The last question was asked with a twinkle in the eye, as if we had been flirting and my previous no's had hints of a future yes for the persistant. I assure, there were no hints of any other answer.
At the gate I chilled with all the Saudis, many niqabis. Some women talked to me, shaking their heads when they found out that I was going to Pakistan by myself. The pity in their eyes was clear when they found out my parents live in America. When they inquired and were informed of my age (22), one said, "by God, so young!" Old enough to marry, not old enough to live far from my parents or travel by myself.
In Saudi, those going to Pakistan stayed on the plane while most deplaned, and a few joined us. So all I've I've seen of Saudi is through a plane window. Now event the airport. Back in the air, the plane was very empty. The flight attendents had all heard me speak before and now bored, a few wandered over and chatted.
In Karachi as I got off the plane, an airport employee met me and asked if was "the American." Um, yes. "Go with him, he said, pointing to another man.
"Why?" I asked with palatable fear.
"I got a call from my manager in Damascus. You are American? Go with him."
"Where are we going??"
The employee hustled me to the front of the immigration line, and I sailed through protocol. Hadi's father and sister were there to meet me, when I found out that Hadi's mom, being Syrian, is friends with the few other Syrians in Karachi, including the manager of Syrian Air in Pakistan. He had put in the call.
"Can you read that?" They would ask, pointing to the open book in my hands. No, I just really like to stare at Arabic and flip pages.
One man was considerably hard to shake. After complimenting my Syrian Arabic, he attempted to get my number. Dude was mad old, by the way. I asked and found out 38 to be exact. Sorry, no number possible.
He didn't give up (all in Arabic, naturally):"Just for friends. Isn't that common in America? Boys and girls are friends in America."
"Usually they are about the same age though."
"How old are you?"
"How old do you think?"
"You look about 17." Ok, so now its even creepier. "So can I have your number? Just for friends."
"No, I have friends. Of my same age."
"What's the problem? Here, it's not weird for men of 38 to marry 20 year old girls."
"Yeah, I'm going to go to my gate now."
"Can I have your number?"
"No."
"If I ask again, will I get a different response?"
"No, same response. Bye." The last question was asked with a twinkle in the eye, as if we had been flirting and my previous no's had hints of a future yes for the persistant. I assure, there were no hints of any other answer.
At the gate I chilled with all the Saudis, many niqabis. Some women talked to me, shaking their heads when they found out that I was going to Pakistan by myself. The pity in their eyes was clear when they found out my parents live in America. When they inquired and were informed of my age (22), one said, "by God, so young!" Old enough to marry, not old enough to live far from my parents or travel by myself.
In Saudi, those going to Pakistan stayed on the plane while most deplaned, and a few joined us. So all I've I've seen of Saudi is through a plane window. Now event the airport. Back in the air, the plane was very empty. The flight attendents had all heard me speak before and now bored, a few wandered over and chatted.
In Karachi as I got off the plane, an airport employee met me and asked if was "the American." Um, yes. "Go with him, he said, pointing to another man.
"Why?" I asked with palatable fear.
"I got a call from my manager in Damascus. You are American? Go with him."
"Where are we going??"
The employee hustled me to the front of the immigration line, and I sailed through protocol. Hadi's father and sister were there to meet me, when I found out that Hadi's mom, being Syrian, is friends with the few other Syrians in Karachi, including the manager of Syrian Air in Pakistan. He had put in the call.
Friday, November 16, 2007
Before Pakistan
Getting to Pakistan was a bit of a hassle, and the reason I didn't write anything about my planned trip beforehand was that I didn't want to jinx it.
I had to find a flight, and there are very few Damascus-Karachi flights. There are none direct, in fact. Luckily Syria Air has a twice a week flight that stops in Dammam in Saudi Arabia with a less-than-an-hour layover, versus the 8 hour layovers in Doha or Abu Dhabi I was looking at if I flew another airline. I bought a ticket to leave on a Tuesday and come back on a Saturday, only missing two days of class. Yes.
Then, visa. The Pakistani embassy in Damascus requires a letter from your embassy stating that you are indeed the person your passport says you are, that you are an American citizen, and that you are allowed to travel. The American embassy refuses to do this letter since possession of a passport means all of these things. So I had to go to the American Embassy and get a copy of a letter that says they don't do letters, and give that to the Pakistani Embassy, who refused it. "We need the letter."
"Look, it says they don't do letters."
So to ease the situation along I squeezed out a few tears and wailed that it was my sister's wedding and I have to go to Pakistan. The man led me inside to talk to his boss, who asked if I was Syrian, then if my parents were Syrian, then why I spoke Arabic. But he decided to go ahead and give me a visa, as I knew they would, since Lindsey (my friend who got married) had gone through the same letter ordeal two weeks previous, and emerged with a visa.
Then I was almost all set, when Lindsey told me the wedding date changed because of all the trouble she had with the Pakistani embassy in Kuwait, and then DC. I took my ticket with "non-refundable, non-exchangable" stamped on it to the office and got it changed, without a penalty or fee or trouble.
Then I just had to convince everyone around me that I would be ok. When I told people I was going to Pakistani, they reacted, well, much the same way people in the States reacted when I told them I was going to Syria.
"Oh my god!"
"Are you going to be safe?"
"Why?"
"But its so backwards!"
"Will you have to wear hijab?" - the last question was especially ironic.
True, Pakistan has been dominating the news lately, what with the Emergency Laws and suspencion of the constitution following on the heels of Benazir Bhutto's return and two suicide bombs that killed around 150 people. But most of the protests happen in Islamabad or Lahore, it seemed, and I was going to Karachi (oh wait, the bombs were there). I actually did call Lindsey, told her I was a little nervous, but she told me it was all good. Plus, I got to stay with Hadi's (her now-husband) aunt.
But I figured it would be fine as long as I stayed away from any political rallies. And it was.
I had to find a flight, and there are very few Damascus-Karachi flights. There are none direct, in fact. Luckily Syria Air has a twice a week flight that stops in Dammam in Saudi Arabia with a less-than-an-hour layover, versus the 8 hour layovers in Doha or Abu Dhabi I was looking at if I flew another airline. I bought a ticket to leave on a Tuesday and come back on a Saturday, only missing two days of class. Yes.
Then, visa. The Pakistani embassy in Damascus requires a letter from your embassy stating that you are indeed the person your passport says you are, that you are an American citizen, and that you are allowed to travel. The American embassy refuses to do this letter since possession of a passport means all of these things. So I had to go to the American Embassy and get a copy of a letter that says they don't do letters, and give that to the Pakistani Embassy, who refused it. "We need the letter."
"Look, it says they don't do letters."
So to ease the situation along I squeezed out a few tears and wailed that it was my sister's wedding and I have to go to Pakistan. The man led me inside to talk to his boss, who asked if I was Syrian, then if my parents were Syrian, then why I spoke Arabic. But he decided to go ahead and give me a visa, as I knew they would, since Lindsey (my friend who got married) had gone through the same letter ordeal two weeks previous, and emerged with a visa.
Then I was almost all set, when Lindsey told me the wedding date changed because of all the trouble she had with the Pakistani embassy in Kuwait, and then DC. I took my ticket with "non-refundable, non-exchangable" stamped on it to the office and got it changed, without a penalty or fee or trouble.
Then I just had to convince everyone around me that I would be ok. When I told people I was going to Pakistani, they reacted, well, much the same way people in the States reacted when I told them I was going to Syria.
"Oh my god!"
"Are you going to be safe?"
"Why?"
"But its so backwards!"
"Will you have to wear hijab?" - the last question was especially ironic.
True, Pakistan has been dominating the news lately, what with the Emergency Laws and suspencion of the constitution following on the heels of Benazir Bhutto's return and two suicide bombs that killed around 150 people. But most of the protests happen in Islamabad or Lahore, it seemed, and I was going to Karachi (oh wait, the bombs were there). I actually did call Lindsey, told her I was a little nervous, but she told me it was all good. Plus, I got to stay with Hadi's (her now-husband) aunt.
But I figured it would be fine as long as I stayed away from any political rallies. And it was.
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
So I've Been in Pakistan...
I just got back this morning from Karachi, where I went to Lindsey and Hadi's wedding. I had left Friday. Much, much more on this later, but today I have to study for my test tomorrow.
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
Danger Danger Danger
I finally got to go back to class today after two days of Fulbright orientation. There's 10 of us here, some doing research, all but one with Language grants, though many are doing straight language training for their Fulbright grant as well. Two more will be joining us much later in the year.
We had briefings with the economic officer about sanctions, with the consular officer about how doing drugs will get you thrown into a pit and kicked for 14 years without your family knowing where you are, with the security officer about how terrorism, like last year's attack on the US Embassy here, or regional conflict is a very real possibility and to keep alert, and with the medical officer on how to boil everything before you eat it and soak it in chlorine and you know what why don't you just ship in all your food from Sweden. She also warned us that the sun is stronger than we might think and that we should consider investing in some sunscreen, especially as some of you (motion in my direction) are quite fair. That was the first day.
On the second we got to hear the political officer sigh and explain "the United State's official position" on everything. He didn't have any info to tell us (swearing his own ignorance) on the Syrian nukes? that's blowing up the news here. Every one here I've talked to laughs at the idea of Syria pursuing nuclear technology. Why North Korea anyway when Iran is so much closer? The US hasn't corroborated what the Israelis are saying. Could this turn into a conflict? The political officer said we have no idea, but we hope not. He also ventured that the Syrian-US relationship is more tense that it has been at any point in the past couple of years. Hopefully that won't mess up my getting an iqama! But meeting the political officer once again gave me pause about a possible career at DOS. He seemed so disheartened, schilling the same lines about US policy in the region, most of which he didn't seem to believe. Fun.
The other news is that Syria will be invited to the November peace conference. Will they RSVP? Speaking of respondez-vousing, I'm going to an iftar at the ambassador's residence tonight - there is no ambassador, but the charge d'affaires will be there, taking questions from those gathered, about any old thing.
We had briefings with the economic officer about sanctions, with the consular officer about how doing drugs will get you thrown into a pit and kicked for 14 years without your family knowing where you are, with the security officer about how terrorism, like last year's attack on the US Embassy here, or regional conflict is a very real possibility and to keep alert, and with the medical officer on how to boil everything before you eat it and soak it in chlorine and you know what why don't you just ship in all your food from Sweden. She also warned us that the sun is stronger than we might think and that we should consider investing in some sunscreen, especially as some of you (motion in my direction) are quite fair. That was the first day.
On the second we got to hear the political officer sigh and explain "the United State's official position" on everything. He didn't have any info to tell us (swearing his own ignorance) on the Syrian nukes? that's blowing up the news here. Every one here I've talked to laughs at the idea of Syria pursuing nuclear technology. Why North Korea anyway when Iran is so much closer? The US hasn't corroborated what the Israelis are saying. Could this turn into a conflict? The political officer said we have no idea, but we hope not. He also ventured that the Syrian-US relationship is more tense that it has been at any point in the past couple of years. Hopefully that won't mess up my getting an iqama! But meeting the political officer once again gave me pause about a possible career at DOS. He seemed so disheartened, schilling the same lines about US policy in the region, most of which he didn't seem to believe. Fun.
The other news is that Syria will be invited to the November peace conference. Will they RSVP? Speaking of respondez-vousing, I'm going to an iftar at the ambassador's residence tonight - there is no ambassador, but the charge d'affaires will be there, taking questions from those gathered, about any old thing.
Thursday, September 6, 2007
Last post from the U.S. of A.
After two days of driving around to do errands and crap I'm just about ready to go. Almost packed, I swear. I'll land in Damascus tomorrow night after a brief layover in Paris. Still no update on where I'll be staying - I called numerous times only to have it ring over and over, and emailing only prompted one response: full at AlHaramain. So this will be interesting!
Of course, it will be interesting anyways. Today there was a a fun little altercation between Syria and Israel. This is making my parents really thrilled to drop me off at the airport. Wish me luck!
Of course, it will be interesting anyways. Today there was a a fun little altercation between Syria and Israel. This is making my parents really thrilled to drop me off at the airport. Wish me luck!
Monday, August 6, 2007
Syria FAQs
When I tell people I'm going to Syria, I usually get some questions:
Aren't you scared?
No. If I was scared I don't think I would have gone through all this effort. But I like the supposition that I should be scared. I am, however, somewhat nervous, as is natural with any big transition: going off to college, moving to a new city, beginning a new job.
Is it safe?
Yes. One of the upsides about a dictorial regime is very little street crime. It was the same situation in Cairo. Sucks to be a political dissident, but little worry about getting stabbed.
Is that near Iraq?
Yes. But it is not Iraq itself.
Will you have to wear a burka/"one of those Muslim hair things"?
No. Not in Syria, nor in Egypt, Jordan, Lebanon, Turkey, UAE, the Palestinian occupied territories, Tunisia, and elsewhere. Just because hijab is the law in Iran and Saudi Arabia doesn't mean it is for every Arab or Muslim country. Syria also has a secular government. I'm not going to get shit for walking around uncovered - all the Christian girls do.
There's Christians in Syria?
Yes.
Really?
Totally.
Are Americans allowed to go there?
That's a definite yes. In fact, Americans are even allowed to go there with other American taxpayers footing the bill (thanks dudes!).
Don't they hate Americans?
No. A lot of people don't like our president, the war in Iraq, or our long- and short-term foreign policy, but they don't hate Americans. Traveling alone, I found that people were surprised I was an American and very, almost overly, welcoming. Their stereotype of us is that we are scared and uninformed about the outside world, so they were impressed that I a)was in Syria and b)knew the name of their president. A few people asked me questions about how on earth could we have voted for Bush again in 2004, but I too have asked this question nearly every day since. Not one single person the entire time reacted negatively towards me because of my nationality. And why should they? Syrians understand that governments do shit people don't agree with all the time.
Aren't you scared?
No. If I was scared I don't think I would have gone through all this effort. But I like the supposition that I should be scared. I am, however, somewhat nervous, as is natural with any big transition: going off to college, moving to a new city, beginning a new job.
Is it safe?
Yes. One of the upsides about a dictorial regime is very little street crime. It was the same situation in Cairo. Sucks to be a political dissident, but little worry about getting stabbed.
Is that near Iraq?
Yes. But it is not Iraq itself.
Will you have to wear a burka/"one of those Muslim hair things"?
No. Not in Syria, nor in Egypt, Jordan, Lebanon, Turkey, UAE, the Palestinian occupied territories, Tunisia, and elsewhere. Just because hijab is the law in Iran and Saudi Arabia doesn't mean it is for every Arab or Muslim country. Syria also has a secular government. I'm not going to get shit for walking around uncovered - all the Christian girls do.
There's Christians in Syria?
Yes.
Really?
Totally.
Are Americans allowed to go there?
That's a definite yes. In fact, Americans are even allowed to go there with other American taxpayers footing the bill (thanks dudes!).
Don't they hate Americans?
No. A lot of people don't like our president, the war in Iraq, or our long- and short-term foreign policy, but they don't hate Americans. Traveling alone, I found that people were surprised I was an American and very, almost overly, welcoming. Their stereotype of us is that we are scared and uninformed about the outside world, so they were impressed that I a)was in Syria and b)knew the name of their president. A few people asked me questions about how on earth could we have voted for Bush again in 2004, but I too have asked this question nearly every day since. Not one single person the entire time reacted negatively towards me because of my nationality. And why should they? Syrians understand that governments do shit people don't agree with all the time.
Friday, July 6, 2007
Douchebaggery! Thomas L. Friedman
In honor of Independence Day, a reminder that free speech extends to douchebags:
The incomparable Thomas Friedman in his Wednesday column found it necessary to comment on the recent attempted terror attacks in England.
Describing the chaos, two bombs, and "Allah," he queries the reader "Where was I? Baghdad? Kabul? Tel Aviv?" You know, scary places. "No, I was in England." Holy shit! Terrorism? In England? Impossible gov'ner! "But it could have been anywhere. The Middle East: now playing at a theatre new you."
The overwrought drama aside (and his inclusion of Kabul in the "Middle East") this doesn't even make sense. Terrorism is apparently a new, exported Middle Eastern thing, like the hookah bars popping up everywhere. We can easily find incidences of terrorism in England's history that don't have to do with Muslims, or even the Middle East- several involving a little organization called the IRA. When there's a Tamil Tiger attack in Sri Lanka, is that the Middle East? What about Marxist rebels in Nepal? If shit blows up anywhere in the world is that the Middle East playing?
God no, of course not. Friedman clears that up for us: only if Muslims are involved. Looking at several events in the past couple years and the disparate identities of the terrorists, their disparate aims and methods, yet their common espoused religion, he concludes that these Muslims are fucking crazy and no one in the Muslim world is condemning it. Why are these Muslims angry? They think their religion is right and are all pissed off about the prosperity of non-Muslims. "This creates a real dissonance and humiliation. How could this be? Who did this to us?" Variation on a theme, similar to Bernard Lewis, that "They hate us because of who were are, not what we do."
First of all, Juan Cole has already dealt with this: there are denunciations of terror from Muslims - important ones too. Second, every religion thinks it's right to the exclusion of all others. Third, why can't Muslims or Middle Easterners (cause it's all the same, right?) be pissed off about real political events or policy? For example, cutting off aid to the Palestinian people when they elect a government we don't like. Or maybe, the Iraq war.
Silly me, Thomas Friedman is right. Muslims are crazy motherfuckers who hate us for our freedom- I mean our prosperity/their poverty/our porn/the Crusades, and if not lovers of terrorism, then at least chill with it. Otherwise, Muslims would condemn it, and Thomas L. Friedman says they don't. And he wears the moustache of truth.
The incomparable Thomas Friedman in his Wednesday column found it necessary to comment on the recent attempted terror attacks in England.
Describing the chaos, two bombs, and "Allah," he queries the reader "Where was I? Baghdad? Kabul? Tel Aviv?" You know, scary places. "No, I was in England." Holy shit! Terrorism? In England? Impossible gov'ner! "But it could have been anywhere. The Middle East: now playing at a theatre new you."
The overwrought drama aside (and his inclusion of Kabul in the "Middle East") this doesn't even make sense. Terrorism is apparently a new, exported Middle Eastern thing, like the hookah bars popping up everywhere. We can easily find incidences of terrorism in England's history that don't have to do with Muslims, or even the Middle East- several involving a little organization called the IRA. When there's a Tamil Tiger attack in Sri Lanka, is that the Middle East? What about Marxist rebels in Nepal? If shit blows up anywhere in the world is that the Middle East playing?
God no, of course not. Friedman clears that up for us: only if Muslims are involved. Looking at several events in the past couple years and the disparate identities of the terrorists, their disparate aims and methods, yet their common espoused religion, he concludes that these Muslims are fucking crazy and no one in the Muslim world is condemning it. Why are these Muslims angry? They think their religion is right and are all pissed off about the prosperity of non-Muslims. "This creates a real dissonance and humiliation. How could this be? Who did this to us?" Variation on a theme, similar to Bernard Lewis, that "They hate us because of who were are, not what we do."
First of all, Juan Cole has already dealt with this: there are denunciations of terror from Muslims - important ones too. Second, every religion thinks it's right to the exclusion of all others. Third, why can't Muslims or Middle Easterners (cause it's all the same, right?) be pissed off about real political events or policy? For example, cutting off aid to the Palestinian people when they elect a government we don't like. Or maybe, the Iraq war.
Silly me, Thomas Friedman is right. Muslims are crazy motherfuckers who hate us for our freedom- I mean our prosperity/their poverty/our porn/the Crusades, and if not lovers of terrorism, then at least chill with it. Otherwise, Muslims would condemn it, and Thomas L. Friedman says they don't. And he wears the moustache of truth.
Sunday, June 3, 2007
I'm going to Syria...
I love saying that, but I shouldn't. I was at a hep rooftop party in Soho (okay, hanging with kids that lived on my floor back freshman year of college) and the conversation turns, as it does, to studies and future plans. This conversation is one I have had many times, with the parents of the kids I tutor and babysit, random men at bars, my friends parents, my podiatrist, others, and is one I am likely to have again - and love.
The other participant inquires about my studies - Politics and Middle East Studies. Since the latter is not a common major, something along the lines of "We could sure use people to fix up that place" or "that's a useful major nowadays!" is said. I ask about their studies, or job, or life, depending on their current phase of life.
"So, where are you living next year." And then, I get to say the delicious words themselves: "Oh, I'm going to Syria for a year."
"Syria??" Then I get to hear about how crazy I am, or was North Korea too tame, or why not Iraq? Cocktail in hand, I can regail them with stories of renting a car and driving through Southern Lebanon - Hezbollah country - before the 06 war or "almost getting kidnapped" at the Syrian border or of protesting with the Muslim Brotherhood in Egypt. And my political opinions on various Middle Eastern governments, movements, or foreign policies are respected (despite my sometime unpopular positions) because I am a crazy motherfucker who is going to go to Syria for a year - I must know shit.
I shouldn't like the reaction I get from "Syria" because it reveals how the media here makes us believe the image of angry mobs of Middle Easterners is the only one. True, a lot of people in Syria (and a good many other countries) are not fans of our government, as are many people here. But as an American in Syria, Egypt, Lebanon and Jordan I heard much more about the cousin in Virginia and the brother in New Jersey than rants about America. People know that venting such feelings to me is not going to change shit since I'm a lowly backpacking student with no hand in American foreign affairs - at least not yet.
So I shouldn't enjoy the adventurous and brave image of me people create when I tell them I'm going to Syria. Rest assured, I'll get sick of it soon, just as I got sick of telling people that no, I didn't have to wear a burka in Egypt. But for now, I'll enjoy it. And I promise that this will be my first and last intentionally pretentious entry.
The other participant inquires about my studies - Politics and Middle East Studies. Since the latter is not a common major, something along the lines of "We could sure use people to fix up that place" or "that's a useful major nowadays!" is said. I ask about their studies, or job, or life, depending on their current phase of life.
"So, where are you living next year." And then, I get to say the delicious words themselves: "Oh, I'm going to Syria for a year."
"Syria??" Then I get to hear about how crazy I am, or was North Korea too tame, or why not Iraq? Cocktail in hand, I can regail them with stories of renting a car and driving through Southern Lebanon - Hezbollah country - before the 06 war or "almost getting kidnapped" at the Syrian border or of protesting with the Muslim Brotherhood in Egypt. And my political opinions on various Middle Eastern governments, movements, or foreign policies are respected (despite my sometime unpopular positions) because I am a crazy motherfucker who is going to go to Syria for a year - I must know shit.
I shouldn't like the reaction I get from "Syria" because it reveals how the media here makes us believe the image of angry mobs of Middle Easterners is the only one. True, a lot of people in Syria (and a good many other countries) are not fans of our government, as are many people here. But as an American in Syria, Egypt, Lebanon and Jordan I heard much more about the cousin in Virginia and the brother in New Jersey than rants about America. People know that venting such feelings to me is not going to change shit since I'm a lowly backpacking student with no hand in American foreign affairs - at least not yet.
So I shouldn't enjoy the adventurous and brave image of me people create when I tell them I'm going to Syria. Rest assured, I'll get sick of it soon, just as I got sick of telling people that no, I didn't have to wear a burka in Egypt. But for now, I'll enjoy it. And I promise that this will be my first and last intentionally pretentious entry.
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