Snow in Damascus

It snowed!! a while ago but I didn't post any pictures of this rare event until now:


Are we in Lebanon? Close!

Ashoura

Every year on the 10th of Muharram (first month in Islamic calendar), Shi'is mourn the death of Hussain, grandson of the prophet. While Karbala and the most important holy sites are in Iraq, Syria has Sayida Zeinab, his sister, and Sayida Ruqayia, ensuring a steady stream of Iranian pilgrims. Ashoura this year was on a Saturday (January 20), when I'm in Sitt Zeinab anyways, teaching English, so I walked down the road and watched a procession of what other viewers told me were Pakistanis, beating themselves in time, rising and falling intensity.
I followed them into the Sitt Zeinab mosque, quickly transforming my scarf into a hijab.

I missed the "hard core" stuff - the cutting themselves with swords - because it was at 6am, but my friend Miqdad (British) caught it, though he has very strong opinions about inflicting pain to one's self being un-Islamic and unsupported by text. But he also told me to look out for Arba'een, forty days after Ashoura, when Sitt Zeineb is supposed to see even more pilgrims.

The Gym

In trying to avoid a blow-up like in Egypt, where koshari and ta'amiya somehow added 20 pounds to my frame, I have joined a gym. Syria is much, much more perilous, being a land of delicious food and especially the sweets. Shami sweets are famous, renowned around the world. I love them so freaking hard.

When the weather was nice, I would walk the 40-50 minutes from my house to the university, but once that temperature dropped and getting out of bed in the morning became harder than labor, I took the micro. So I joined a gym 10 minutes from home walking a month ago. For $24/month, I can go to the gym 3 times a week (it's more if I want to go everyday and I'm not ready for that level of commitment yet). The gym is two rooms: a crapload of weights, 3 treadmills, 3 elipticals, a recumbent bike (blaugh). A little pricy, but what kept me from joining at a cheaper ones is Ladies' Hours.

Ladies' Hours at almost all gyms are from 10-12, when I have class. The thinking is that most ladies would like to work out without the eyes of men on them, and many would, but unfortunately the thinking also is that they have nowhere to be during the day. I have class.

More expensive gyms mix it up. Mine has ladies' hours from 10-12, but ladies are welcome at any other time as well. There are no only-fellas hours. Usually when I go there's one or two other women working out, muhijaba and non. The only problem is that there is only one changing room, meaning men have to wait while I shower and I have to wait while they change.

There is a crazy swanky gym called Nadi Barada. It even has a freaking indoor pool. But it's $50 a month and from what I've heard, quite a "scene". I don't really want to just rub (sweaty) elbows with the elite.

My gym works well enough. I think I'll go for another month. I really would like to join a gym where I could a class in kickboxing or something fun though. Take out some of the pent-up aggression from frustrating "place of women in society" chats with the family.

Being Christian

can get a little annoying when you are not actually Christian. Athiesm is a cultural no-no in the Arab World, where any faith (even Jews: as my family likes to tell me over and over again they don't like the Zionists, but they love the Jews. "We used to have Jews" they say sadly, before America pressured Syria into making their Jews go live in America) is better than no faith.

So except with very good friends, I am a Christian. Catholic, to be exact. It's rather easy to remember who I've told what to, as those who ask are usually those who it's just easier to lie to. This is rarely onerous, as few people get into the nitty gritty of faith. But for those who do, it's lucky that I once was very Catholic, so that I can convincingly pretend to believe. Plus, playing Christian leads people to rethink their views of a irreligious US, because in truth were I to be an "average American" I would be Christian, though I probably wouldn't travel to Syria.

But with my family and my private teacher Ibrahim sometimes I regret having told them the Lie because of how often I have to check myself and say things as if I were actually Christian. With Ibrahim this isn't such a big deal, especially now that we don't do much conversation (I now get enough of that from Life). But with the family this comes up a lot.

I especially hate getting quizzed by Abu Mazen, i.e. "How old was Jesus when he died?"
"33."
"Bravo!"
Or lectured by Abu Mazen. I have so far endured the Bible/Qur'an stories of Abraham, Moses, Jesus, Soloman, and others. When I attempt to speed up these recounts by filling in the details, Abu Mazen always, always acts surprised. Honestly, as a Christian why is it surprising that I know the story of the Messiah? The other night my family complemented me on being muthaqifa (cultured). "You know about politics, science, history, religion!" Thanks, but as the Catholic I say I am, the last part really shouldn't be all that surprising.

Sometimes I'm lecured on Islam, and the knowledge I have on this is also apparently astounding, but this is more understandable. But still, I get to hear how the Qur'an tells people to be clean, for example you can't enter into a mosque unless you washed and you can't pray until after absolutions, and women can't enter a mosque on their period, but don't get them wrong, "the Christians here are also very clean people, and good. They also cover their heads when they go to church." I told them that you don't have to be physicially clean to enter a church, but you have to be mentally clean (ol' State of Grace) to receive communion. But, you know, we do shower out of common sense and all that. They were shocked when I told told them that women on their period are allowed to go to church. "The Christians here don't do that," Um Mazen said somewhat disapprovingly, perhaps imagining a libertine West in which women are allowed to pray while bleeding out of the vagina.

I really hope the family looks to my frequent flossing and not the admittedly scattered state of my room to judge my cleanliness.

Watching Nature Documentaries with The Fam

My family doesn't do to much. The father is retired, the one remaining son at home graduated from law school in May and is kind of chilling, and all the other children are married and in Lattakia or in Britain studying. They sleep, they eat, they visit the neighbors and have the neighbors over, but mostly what they do is watch TV.

Al-Jazeera has a documentary channel that shows all documentaries, all the time. Most are obviously bought from America, England, France, and dubbed into Arabic. Any documentary is game, the channel being a uniform only of type, not of subject. Torture and Kidnap: American Style (from England, about rendition), how Airbus planes are made, the Mongol Conquest, and nature documentaries are all fair game.

The latter are quite common, and my family loves them, and I love watching them with my family. Um Mazen gives a running commentary. When a strange looking creature pops up, Um Mazen always proclaims "Subhan Allah!" (used to express awe at God's creation). Weird-ass fish: Subhan Allah! Thousands of penguins all sitting on their eggs: Subhan Allah! A Chameleon shoots its tongue out half a foot to eat a bug: Subhan Allah!

When the predator inevitably catches they prey, Um Mazen intones ya haram! or ya latif! (catch-all phrases for bad things). When lemurs walk up cacti, ya latif! When a baby seal is shown floundering around on the ice, ya haram! so weak!

These are but highlights in the running commentary, which also includes laughing, commands that the rest of us look at something cute, and spoilers if it's a documentary she's seen previously (Now the snake's going to eat him, ya haram!)

Last night was the icing on the cake when, watching one about the Anartic, I learned the word for seal: فقمة. Seems innocent, but when pronounced with the qaff and the Syrian accent on the taa marbuta (turns -ah into -eh) this word becomes fuqme. I started laughing when Iyad first said the word, to which Um Mazen said, "What's so funny? That's his name. Fuqme. Fuqme." And Abu Mazen joined in "Fuqme!"

I cried from laughing.

Talking 'bout the Ladies

Last night I went to the Arab Cultural Center in Adawi, just a few winding alleys away from my home. Tucked back away from the major streets, it is a oddly-placed grand building.

I went for a lecture on the "Cultural Marginilization of Women" led by Lena Mabardi, a TV journalist here with a Dutch kid from my class and Iyad, the mid-to-late 20s law school graduate who is the only remaining son of the family I live with (I don't want to say host brother). The large auditorium was mostly empty, and then the power went out. We located to a more intimite side room, lit by two battery-lamps. There were about 3 old guys, who looked as though they might just go to every cultural event out of boredom, 2 other guys, the female director of the center, 2 other women, Iyad, Marios from my class, and me.

Ms. Mabardi read a piece she had written, of which I caught most. The discussion afterwards was in 'ammiya, and I understood almost everything, leaving me in the strange place where I understand 'ammiya better than fusha. I guess I do get more practice listening to 'ammiya, but still, strange. The discussion was very friendly and laid-back. A muhijaba (veiled woman) questioned Ms. Mabardi about some of the things she had said about Islam's role in this marginilization, and agreed with much of what she said, Ms. Marbadi had spoken about the relative freedom of women in some pre-Islamic Middle Eastern societies such as Egypt. A man who identified himself as an independent studier of culture cited studies in which women themselves treat their boys better than their girls. I wanted to jump in at that point citing my own research on the topic (and how it intersects with the IMF), but that shit took me 30+ pages to explain in English.

The director then called out the obviousness of Marios' and my foreigness, asking us where we were from and what we were doing. This is always when I'm worst at Arabic, when I'm put on the spot and have to speak in front of a room of people.

America? she said. Can you tell us about the situation for women in America?
Uh, in general?
Yes. Is thate equality, for example? Go ahead.

What a wide question. I struggle with this somewhat, between talking about the US as a glorious wonderland of gender equality, which it is not, and denigrating it as comodifier and exploiter of women. For example, were I to wax on how wonderful it is that young women in America live alone and date and fuck with impunity, I would be met with: that's equality? The men are using these women and not marrying them. Aren't they heartbroken? Don't you have problems with teenage pregnancy and abortion? Aren't the women all starving themselves and getting plastic surgery (like they aren't here?). But my friends are a jealous of the freedom with which I travel and live apart from my family. I want to communicate that while not perfect, there has been a lot of progress and as a woman, I prefer it to Syria. The problem isn't the laws, it's the families. My girlfriends here don't have to be home at 10pm because of the state, or Islam (certainly not the Christian and Druze ones) but because of gossiping neighbors.

So I talked about how the feminism of the 60s and 70s achieved a lot of changes in laws, and because of that women of my generation feel like we don't have to fight against anything, and we buy into the image of the perfect woman. We've changed the laws but we still need to change society, I said. This was agreed upon by all present. Yes, said another Syrian woman, like here. Most laws are equal, but it is society that marginilizes women.

After the discussion Ms. Mabardi chatted with me and gave me her contact info. I'm asking her to send me her piece so we can read it in class.

Gaza

Did you know that a few primitive rockets can serve as justification for starving 1.5 million people?

Fortunately, Hamas blew up the border and Palestinians are streaming into Egypt in order to buy... flour.