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!
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
Pleasant Neighbors
My new apartment is kind of a shithole. It didn't seem that bad when I first moved in, but then I noticed the walls getting worse and worse. The roof of the bathroom began to peel and grow something like mold. My downstairs neighbors came up and told me that water was leaking down into their apartments. They were angry.
I tried to call the owner, but she didn't answer. My friend went up to the crawl space above the bathroom, where the water tank is. There wasn't even a fawasheh, which is the thing that floats up and lets the water pump know when the tank is full (I have no idea what this is called in English). My friend put one in but then no water came for several days. Going down, I found that one of my neighbors had helpfully broken my water pump and disconnected the electricity. I guess they weren't happy about the leaking.
I called the owner. She answered, finally. I told her what was up with the pump and the water tank. Uh-huh, she said. I asked if she could get a guy over to fix it. She then just hung up. I tried calling her back, but she wouldn't answer.
I managed to get a guy myself but he had to fix the water tank and put in a new electric cord down to the water pump. Finally that night the owner answered when I called her from a friend's phone. I asked why she hung up and she said she didn't answer strange numbers (we exchanged numbers when I took the apartment, so unlikely). I asked her why she hung up on me. She said she didn't know it was me, this despite my identifying myself at the beginning, her assenting, my telling her the problem. It wasn't until I asked her to get a repair guy that she hung up.
Whatever. I'm taking it out of the next rent.
I tried to call the owner, but she didn't answer. My friend went up to the crawl space above the bathroom, where the water tank is. There wasn't even a fawasheh, which is the thing that floats up and lets the water pump know when the tank is full (I have no idea what this is called in English). My friend put one in but then no water came for several days. Going down, I found that one of my neighbors had helpfully broken my water pump and disconnected the electricity. I guess they weren't happy about the leaking.
I called the owner. She answered, finally. I told her what was up with the pump and the water tank. Uh-huh, she said. I asked if she could get a guy over to fix it. She then just hung up. I tried calling her back, but she wouldn't answer.
I managed to get a guy myself but he had to fix the water tank and put in a new electric cord down to the water pump. Finally that night the owner answered when I called her from a friend's phone. I asked why she hung up and she said she didn't answer strange numbers (we exchanged numbers when I took the apartment, so unlikely). I asked her why she hung up on me. She said she didn't know it was me, this despite my identifying myself at the beginning, her assenting, my telling her the problem. It wasn't until I asked her to get a repair guy that she hung up.
Whatever. I'm taking it out of the next rent.
Thursday, October 23, 2008
Hasan and Marqus
I saw the new Adel Imam film "Hasan wMarqus" last night. I ran into Manar, who had been negotiated a late curfew by having her company be her brother's friend and his sister. We decided to catch a film at Cham Cinema.
We all liked the film. It dealt with relations between Christians and Muslims in Egypt, but was not ponderous or serious. Adel Imam plays a Coptic priest named Boulos (Paul) who is threatened by terrorists so the government sends him and his entire family into hiding as Muslims and changes his name to Hasan.
Meanwhile, a skeikh whose brother was leader of some sort of Islamist terrorist group turns down leadership and derides the movement, leading them to firebomb his house. So he and his family also go into hiding as Christians and his name is changed to Marqus.
The two families end up living across from one another. The fathers become business partners and their college-age kids fall in love, each thinking the other is of their religion. Since Adel Imam's son (real son as well) is thought to be a Muslim, and the sheikh's daughter is thought to be a Muslim, they can go out.
It was intersting because there was a notable progression of animosity. At the beginning, at a religious understanding-type conference, Muslim and Christian clerics whisper among themselves. "We have no power!" the Christians complain, "Look how few ministers we have!" Meanwhile the Muslims complain, "How often do you see a Christian begger?" Everyone in the audience laughed at that, "It's so true!" my friends next to me said.
The animosity builds into a full-out religious riot by the end, but not before much hilarity ensues. In their guise as Muslims, Adel Imam and his son must pretend to pray and are even called upon to give a religious lesson. The son responds to these invitations to pray by fainting. The son also is asked to be a candidate in student government for some Muslim student association, a request he responds to by turning and running. The sheikh pretending to be Christian has it much easier: when visited by a bunch of priests, he can claim ignorance about some of the finer points of worship by saying he had been living in America for many years. The priests understand, because irreligiousity is widespread in America and will infect even the most devout of Coptics.
The two families discover each others' secret when the love-sick kids confess their religions, each thinking the other will be happy.
"I'm Christian, like you!" says the boy.
The girl's face squinches up. "No!" she yells. "I'm Muslima!... Muslima!" She runs away.
Tension builds in the apartment and two families no longer talk. But a fire during that religious riot reunites them and they walk, Muslims and Christians, holding hands, through the fray. Together. Because in the end, we are all Egyptians!
One issue that is not addressed at the end is what's going to happen to the kids' romance. The son, now Christian, cannot marry the girl, now Muslim. That's illegal in Egypt (and Syria) though not the other way around. There's no way the son would convert because he's portrayed as very devoted to his Christian faith.
But despite this oversight, the film is good and it's probably a good time for it considering the tension between Muslims and Christians that have been building in some areas of Egypt.
After the film, my friends agreed that this kind of thing was not possible in Syria. "I've never heard anyone talk like that!" Tariq said people in Syria are scared to talk like that, against other religions. We don't want fitna."
"Look at Iraq!" someone said.
The film was also good in that it finally allowed me to refute crash. One of my friends in attendance has long harangued me about racism in America. Exhibit A is the film Crash. And Bringing Down the House. I tried to explain at the time that these films were exaggerations, hightened to make a point. "Why would they try to make themselves look worse?"
Throughout the film, this same friend criticized the extent of animosity, "It's not like this!" and "It's not this bad!" Afterwards, I asked if relations between Christians and Muslims are like this. "No! It's an exaggeration!"
"Like Crash!" I said. I think he finally got it.
The animosity builds into a full-out religious riot by the end, but not before much hilarity ensues. In their guise as Muslims, Adel Imam and his son must pretend to pray and are even called upon to give a religious lesson. The son responds to these invitations to pray by fainting. The son also is asked to be a candidate in student government for some Muslim student association, a request he responds to by turning and running. The sheikh pretending to be Christian has it much easier: when visited by a bunch of priests, he can claim ignorance about some of the finer points of worship by saying he had been living in America for many years. The priests understand, because irreligiousity is widespread in America and will infect even the most devout of Coptics.
The two families discover each others' secret when the love-sick kids confess their religions, each thinking the other will be happy.
"I'm Christian, like you!" says the boy.
The girl's face squinches up. "No!" she yells. "I'm Muslima!... Muslima!" She runs away.
Tension builds in the apartment and two families no longer talk. But a fire during that religious riot reunites them and they walk, Muslims and Christians, holding hands, through the fray. Together. Because in the end, we are all Egyptians!
One issue that is not addressed at the end is what's going to happen to the kids' romance. The son, now Christian, cannot marry the girl, now Muslim. That's illegal in Egypt (and Syria) though not the other way around. There's no way the son would convert because he's portrayed as very devoted to his Christian faith.
But despite this oversight, the film is good and it's probably a good time for it considering the tension between Muslims and Christians that have been building in some areas of Egypt.
After the film, my friends agreed that this kind of thing was not possible in Syria. "I've never heard anyone talk like that!" Tariq said people in Syria are scared to talk like that, against other religions. We don't want fitna."
"Look at Iraq!" someone said.
The film was also good in that it finally allowed me to refute crash. One of my friends in attendance has long harangued me about racism in America. Exhibit A is the film Crash. And Bringing Down the House. I tried to explain at the time that these films were exaggerations, hightened to make a point. "Why would they try to make themselves look worse?"
Throughout the film, this same friend criticized the extent of animosity, "It's not like this!" and "It's not this bad!" Afterwards, I asked if relations between Christians and Muslims are like this. "No! It's an exaggeration!"
"Like Crash!" I said. I think he finally got it.
Monday, October 13, 2008
Update and Consequences
Manar ran away the first week of September. For almost a month after she returned home I didn't hear from her. Her phone was off, her family refused to talk to me. Then, last week I ran into her near Rowda in Jeramana. We was alone. We both screamed and hugged excitedly. We talked briefly. She laughed when I told her about her family's insistence she was in Sweida.
"How are you alone?"
She said it had taken some time - the first two weeks she had only left the house if accompanied. But her father had at some point sat down and had a talk with her. He finally told her how he had passed out at the police station, how he had a heart attack. She promised not to run away again.
She also has a new job. She's working security at a foreign embassy in Mezzeh (turns out "security" means carrying a walkie-talkie and checking bags, which is good because the woman must be less than 5'2"). She's making 10,000 lira a month and has a two-day weekend, which is a massive improvement over her old job, where she only had friday off and made 4,000. The new job wanted some one who spoke English as well, but luckily in the interview the only question on this was "Do you speak English?" (in Arabic, naturally)
"Sure"
I met her Thursday after work and we sat at a cafe in Jeramana. We only had two hours because her new curfew is very early. She usually goes home straight from work but is now allowed to stay out until 8pm two or three nights a week.
Her parents are not pressuring her to marry anymore. At first, she said, they tried to get her to reconsider the same one from before. They arranged for him to come over. She told them that she would not get married and if they brought him over she would run away again. The matter was dropped and her mother later came to her and said they would stop pressuring her.
So Manar's life isn't ruined. There's even some good: her parents have stopped pressuring her to marry. She has a better job, with more money. She's thinking about using the money to take some English courses. More time at home means more time to study English with Friends DVDs. Her family hates me, so we have to meet outside of her home secret, but at least I don't have to worry I will never see her again. Her other friends have been able to visit her at her home, even back when she was under house arrest.
But she did tell me that her extended family has turned against her parents. Her father's family, all her uncles and aunts except for one, have informed the family that they will no longer be visiting or speaking with them because of the shame of Manar's having run away. She's back at home, but it doesn't matter. It's too shameful that she did run away for them to have relations with their brother.
It's easy to think of Manar's family as villains. She wanted things that in her words, are completely natural and normal, right? She wants to be able to go out to parties and cultural events, to have some freedom, to study, to travel, to date. To live on her own. To buy a book without being questioned about it and being told she's wasting money. To not feel pressured to hurry the fuck up and get married already at 22. These seem like completely normal things to me, since they were all natural parts of growing up where I'm from.
When Manar's brother was trying to talk her into coming out of the cupboard, he told her to imagine how life would be for him if she didn't come back home. People would laugh when he walked down the street and talk about him behind his back "his sister ran away!" When Manar's mother cradled her, she cried "binti! sharafi!" my daughter, my honor.
The consequences are great, not just for Manar, but for her whole family. Her family has lost their support system. There is no social security in Syria - your family supports you. Family is very important. And now her family has lost that network because of what Manar did - it's understandable why they acted like they did. It's also true that things could have been a lot worse - her uncle wasn't kidding when he told me if they were a different family, Manar would have been killed. They couldn't even consider the suggestion that Manar live with me.
What kind of burden is that to bear? I have been able to live my life knowing that the decisions and mistakes I make will reflect upon me, not have disastrous effects for my family. Though her extended family may come around, especially if Manar gets married someday, I have no doubt her family is blaming her for the estrangement. Her brothers naturally don't have to worry about this, they can move out of the house (one is considering it), stay out all night, travel, fuck and drink without ruining familial ties.
There's a lot of things I would have done differently if I could repeat the episode. It's useless to list these now, and I still would have chosen to help Manar. Despite how many times I got the speech "there is Arab society and Western society" from her family, and told I couldn't understand the implications of her actions as a foreigner, I still would choose to help her. She is a friend, she was in potential danger and she asked for my help. That's universal. However I know that part of the reason I was able to help was because of my situation: being a foreigner. I wasn't scared to accompany Manar with her family because while Syrian law protects a family killing their daughter, it punishes for killing the naive American with her. I'm no hero: when at her uncle's house, I mostly nodded and agreed with what her family said. When they threatened my boyfriend I apologized for helping.
I still don't know what exactly to make of the whole situation. But at the very least, Manar is well and safe and somewhat happy.
"How are you alone?"
She said it had taken some time - the first two weeks she had only left the house if accompanied. But her father had at some point sat down and had a talk with her. He finally told her how he had passed out at the police station, how he had a heart attack. She promised not to run away again.
She also has a new job. She's working security at a foreign embassy in Mezzeh (turns out "security" means carrying a walkie-talkie and checking bags, which is good because the woman must be less than 5'2"). She's making 10,000 lira a month and has a two-day weekend, which is a massive improvement over her old job, where she only had friday off and made 4,000. The new job wanted some one who spoke English as well, but luckily in the interview the only question on this was "Do you speak English?" (in Arabic, naturally)
"Sure"
I met her Thursday after work and we sat at a cafe in Jeramana. We only had two hours because her new curfew is very early. She usually goes home straight from work but is now allowed to stay out until 8pm two or three nights a week.
Her parents are not pressuring her to marry anymore. At first, she said, they tried to get her to reconsider the same one from before. They arranged for him to come over. She told them that she would not get married and if they brought him over she would run away again. The matter was dropped and her mother later came to her and said they would stop pressuring her.
So Manar's life isn't ruined. There's even some good: her parents have stopped pressuring her to marry. She has a better job, with more money. She's thinking about using the money to take some English courses. More time at home means more time to study English with Friends DVDs. Her family hates me, so we have to meet outside of her home secret, but at least I don't have to worry I will never see her again. Her other friends have been able to visit her at her home, even back when she was under house arrest.
But she did tell me that her extended family has turned against her parents. Her father's family, all her uncles and aunts except for one, have informed the family that they will no longer be visiting or speaking with them because of the shame of Manar's having run away. She's back at home, but it doesn't matter. It's too shameful that she did run away for them to have relations with their brother.
It's easy to think of Manar's family as villains. She wanted things that in her words, are completely natural and normal, right? She wants to be able to go out to parties and cultural events, to have some freedom, to study, to travel, to date. To live on her own. To buy a book without being questioned about it and being told she's wasting money. To not feel pressured to hurry the fuck up and get married already at 22. These seem like completely normal things to me, since they were all natural parts of growing up where I'm from.
When Manar's brother was trying to talk her into coming out of the cupboard, he told her to imagine how life would be for him if she didn't come back home. People would laugh when he walked down the street and talk about him behind his back "his sister ran away!" When Manar's mother cradled her, she cried "binti! sharafi!" my daughter, my honor.
The consequences are great, not just for Manar, but for her whole family. Her family has lost their support system. There is no social security in Syria - your family supports you. Family is very important. And now her family has lost that network because of what Manar did - it's understandable why they acted like they did. It's also true that things could have been a lot worse - her uncle wasn't kidding when he told me if they were a different family, Manar would have been killed. They couldn't even consider the suggestion that Manar live with me.
What kind of burden is that to bear? I have been able to live my life knowing that the decisions and mistakes I make will reflect upon me, not have disastrous effects for my family. Though her extended family may come around, especially if Manar gets married someday, I have no doubt her family is blaming her for the estrangement. Her brothers naturally don't have to worry about this, they can move out of the house (one is considering it), stay out all night, travel, fuck and drink without ruining familial ties.
There's a lot of things I would have done differently if I could repeat the episode. It's useless to list these now, and I still would have chosen to help Manar. Despite how many times I got the speech "there is Arab society and Western society" from her family, and told I couldn't understand the implications of her actions as a foreigner, I still would choose to help her. She is a friend, she was in potential danger and she asked for my help. That's universal. However I know that part of the reason I was able to help was because of my situation: being a foreigner. I wasn't scared to accompany Manar with her family because while Syrian law protects a family killing their daughter, it punishes for killing the naive American with her. I'm no hero: when at her uncle's house, I mostly nodded and agreed with what her family said. When they threatened my boyfriend I apologized for helping.
I still don't know what exactly to make of the whole situation. But at the very least, Manar is well and safe and somewhat happy.
Sunday, September 28, 2008
More on Attack
Um Tariq and I went to the site in the afternoon. Jaramana is not far from where car bomb went off, which is on my daily work commute. We walked there.
The bomb went off at the Saida Zeinab offramp of the highway, near the big signs for Tariq bin Ziad greeting cards. Even the earliest reports I saw fixated on how Sayda Zeinab is a Shi'i shrine and packed with Iranian tourists. It was early so news items were three short paragraphs, with one describing Sayda Zeinab and its significance and the type of pilgrims that usually come. The NYTimes for example, describes the bombing as "close to a major Shiite shrine". Then again they are reporting from Beirut, not Damascus.
Based on where the bomb actually went off, this doesn't seem that relevant to me. The offramp from the highway is still a couple miles away from Saida Zeinab. Riding a servees to Sitt Zeinab, you still have a good 15 minutes after taking this exit before actually reaching the town, with the shrine a bit further. But perhaps the American news is so used to reporting everything from this part of the world in terms of Shi'i, Sunni they thought it must be significant. The car bomb went off, geographically, much closer to Mughayyam Jeramana (Palestinian) and Jeramana (Druze and Iraqi) but none of that was mentioned in the reports.
At the site, all of the nearby apartments had busted out windows. There were a lot of parked cars around, most of which had busted out windows as well. There was glass everywhere and even little parts of car that had missed being swept up. The bomb warped nearby shops and destroyed part of a wall that apparently is a mukhabarat building, which workers were already rebuilding. The nearby school didn't look that damaged. There was a crowd of people standing around, one guy showing pictures of the smoke and fire afterwards on his cell phone to others. Um Tariq started talking to a woman who lives there. She said they first thought it was an earthquake this morning, then they saw the smoke.
Several people there said they saw the police arresting people on the site soon after the explosion. They said no one was in the car when it exploded.
Despite reading foreign reports that said the explosion happened at 8:45, the woman at the scene and all my neighbors and friends who heard it go off said it happened at about 20 to 8.
Syria news that night had an official statement from the president calling the terrorists cowards, which was repeated often throughout the broadcast. There were also interviews with the wounded in the hospital. One had been on his way to work and described seeing a car drive up onto the sidewalk, which he thought strange, and then it exploded. There were other wounded, one of whom called whoever did it "not human". It is stupid for some (ahem Daniel Pipes) in the West to criticize "moderate" Muslims for not denouncing terrorism. They are freaking denouncing! If your head wasn't up your own ass maybe you would hear! Some of the injured had been praying in the nearby mosque and got hit when leaving. It was Leilat al-Qadr, the celebration of the Quran's first relevation. Many people spend all night in a mosque, praying and reading the Quran (like Um Tariq. She invited me but I was sleepy. And not Muslim).
The report thanked God that it was Saturday, a sentiment repeated often as well. Saturday is weekend, not a schoolday, so the nearby technical and electrical engineering college and the very nearby school was closed. The school would have had something like 1000 students (I forget what the news said). While the damage was not apparent from the outside, TV cameras showed the inside, with doors knocked down, glass all over the floor, walls warped. Almost everyone interviewed, including the injured in the hospital thanked God it was not a schoolday.
The bomb went off at the Saida Zeinab offramp of the highway, near the big signs for Tariq bin Ziad greeting cards. Even the earliest reports I saw fixated on how Sayda Zeinab is a Shi'i shrine and packed with Iranian tourists. It was early so news items were three short paragraphs, with one describing Sayda Zeinab and its significance and the type of pilgrims that usually come. The NYTimes for example, describes the bombing as "close to a major Shiite shrine". Then again they are reporting from Beirut, not Damascus.
Based on where the bomb actually went off, this doesn't seem that relevant to me. The offramp from the highway is still a couple miles away from Saida Zeinab. Riding a servees to Sitt Zeinab, you still have a good 15 minutes after taking this exit before actually reaching the town, with the shrine a bit further. But perhaps the American news is so used to reporting everything from this part of the world in terms of Shi'i, Sunni they thought it must be significant. The car bomb went off, geographically, much closer to Mughayyam Jeramana (Palestinian) and Jeramana (Druze and Iraqi) but none of that was mentioned in the reports.
At the site, all of the nearby apartments had busted out windows. There were a lot of parked cars around, most of which had busted out windows as well. There was glass everywhere and even little parts of car that had missed being swept up. The bomb warped nearby shops and destroyed part of a wall that apparently is a mukhabarat building, which workers were already rebuilding. The nearby school didn't look that damaged. There was a crowd of people standing around, one guy showing pictures of the smoke and fire afterwards on his cell phone to others. Um Tariq started talking to a woman who lives there. She said they first thought it was an earthquake this morning, then they saw the smoke.
Several people there said they saw the police arresting people on the site soon after the explosion. They said no one was in the car when it exploded.
Despite reading foreign reports that said the explosion happened at 8:45, the woman at the scene and all my neighbors and friends who heard it go off said it happened at about 20 to 8.
Syria news that night had an official statement from the president calling the terrorists cowards, which was repeated often throughout the broadcast. There were also interviews with the wounded in the hospital. One had been on his way to work and described seeing a car drive up onto the sidewalk, which he thought strange, and then it exploded. There were other wounded, one of whom called whoever did it "not human". It is stupid for some (ahem Daniel Pipes) in the West to criticize "moderate" Muslims for not denouncing terrorism. They are freaking denouncing! If your head wasn't up your own ass maybe you would hear! Some of the injured had been praying in the nearby mosque and got hit when leaving. It was Leilat al-Qadr, the celebration of the Quran's first relevation. Many people spend all night in a mosque, praying and reading the Quran (like Um Tariq. She invited me but I was sleepy. And not Muslim).
The report thanked God that it was Saturday, a sentiment repeated often as well. Saturday is weekend, not a schoolday, so the nearby technical and electrical engineering college and the very nearby school was closed. The school would have had something like 1000 students (I forget what the news said). While the damage was not apparent from the outside, TV cameras showed the inside, with doors knocked down, glass all over the floor, walls warped. Almost everyone interviewed, including the injured in the hospital thanked God it was not a schoolday.
Saturday, September 27, 2008
Car Bomb
Car bomb exploded this morning in Damascus around 8am, where the highway meets Airport Road. Killed 17 and wounded 14, civilians. While I was sleeping, some of my friends heard it and Sale7 said he saw the smoke from his apartment. The Syrian Interior Minister on Al-Arabiyya blamed it on terrorists.
Sunday, September 7, 2008
Runaway
A friend ran away from home last week. She's Druze. She's finally back at home, after a week out, fighting to stay away, and a night in prison. She didn't want to go back. I don't know how much I'm going to write about what happened, I'm still processing it.
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