I finally really went out last night after three weeks here. The occasion is Lindsey's (a housemate) impending move to Kuwait to do her research. The day started with a horribly difficult midterm exam in Arabic, in which the reading section was about carrier pigeons. Luckily I knew the word "carrier pigeon" because of random events last week.
After iftar Mindy, Michele, and I met Lindsey at the botanical gardens next to the citadel (we could only smell the river a bit) and had chocolamou, a delicious ice cream/mousse hybrid. Then it was onto a cafe, where Jihan (an Algerian friend of Lucy, a SOAS student. Jihan's been staying in the house for two weeks, having moved to Syria to get the hell out of her parent's house - she works in a salon here) was singing. Hung out with the SOAS girls and some sketchy/nice guys who work in the souq (just like Egypt!). She sang only one song, but got the crowd going with her hips as well. Good voice.
A strawberry shisha (it's so hard to remember to call it argileh here)later we made our way in a big group to Domino, a restaurant by day/club by night. We got there a little before 1, demanded that the DJ change the Eurotechnoshit that was playing (though Lilia, German, was loving it), and got our requested mix of Arabic, Latin, and hiphop. One guy, who was actually quite good at dancing, kept wanting to dance with me but he also came up to my chin, which made dancing a bit awkward. Ramy, the guy who got us all in Domino for free, was seen in the middle of the dance floor making out with and dry humping a huge foreign girl. Some drunk foreign man kept staggering around the dance floor, while the Syrian girls (heavy eye makeup and belly shirts) worked to show up the foreigners. Tariq tried to spin me at one point but instead I accidently smacked his nose with my arm. There was a little blood, very little.
Before 4:00, having sweat my hair wet and beaten the shit out of a nice boy, the four of us who stayed to the end made out way back to the house. On the way back we ran into Abu Tabla, the old man who during Ramadan walks into the all the alleys beating a drum to wake people up for sohour. He went into our alley at the same time as us, so we had to hurry. Luckily we could use Lucy's key to the side door and sneak in. We changed into our pajamas, then went down to sohour with the family, who thought we had just woken up.
Friday, September 28, 2007
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.
Saturday, September 22, 2007
Damascus: City of Freaks
So it's been quite an eventful weekend. I turned down a date with a friend (because "I'm just not ready to date now") on Thursday evening and on Friday evening the whole family and a few of the girls went up into the mountains to have iftar with some of Um Zahir's family. They were up in a village in the mountains about 30 minutes away. The family was happy because they had two engaged girls, sixteen and fourteen. "Do you think that's young?" we foreigners were asked, and replied in the affirmative. "It's common in ar-reef (the country)". The "older" one is getting married not long after Ramadan, the younger one in about a year. We oohed and ahhed over the pictures from their engagement parties, but the older one had about 30 professional pictures, with classic wedding and senior pic poses, in which she had professional hair and makeup and a massive dress. The younger one had 3 dark, crappy pictures. We're not sure why the disparity. Both girls are cute, and their finances are, um, less so. They're both marrying cousins.
Back at home, we the foreign girls sat around talking about how young these girls are. Huda, Zahir's wife, is only 24 and has two kids, 6 and 4. She was engaged at 16, married at 17, gave birth at 18. Mindy has a theory that marrying cousins has caused a great rift between the attractive and nonattractive. "In America, most people are in the middle, from the top side of average to not that attractive, but still not horrible. Here is seems like people are either gorgeous or hideous."
"Plus, have you notices all the congenital diseases people have, or how many deformitites? You see lots of albinos, people with club feet, humps on their back..." She continued to list types, including types of short people "... some are perfectly proportioned, some have long arms, some have short legs, some have big heads. And this one time I was at Dar Musa (a Christian monastary) talking to this monk you was young and looked normal, but then I looked down at his feet and he had a sixth toe growing out the top of his little toe." Lindsey burst out: "You make it sound like Damascus is a city of freaks!" which is just a hilarious mental image. See the postcards: Visit Damascus, City of Freaks.
The Fulbright orientation starts tomorrow and I'm not very happy because it means I have to miss two full days of class! That's eight hours, and the midterm at the end of this week. And soon I promise to write about the shit that's been going down here: nuclear Syria? and bombs in Beirut.
Back at home, we the foreign girls sat around talking about how young these girls are. Huda, Zahir's wife, is only 24 and has two kids, 6 and 4. She was engaged at 16, married at 17, gave birth at 18. Mindy has a theory that marrying cousins has caused a great rift between the attractive and nonattractive. "In America, most people are in the middle, from the top side of average to not that attractive, but still not horrible. Here is seems like people are either gorgeous or hideous."
"Plus, have you notices all the congenital diseases people have, or how many deformitites? You see lots of albinos, people with club feet, humps on their back..." She continued to list types, including types of short people "... some are perfectly proportioned, some have long arms, some have short legs, some have big heads. And this one time I was at Dar Musa (a Christian monastary) talking to this monk you was young and looked normal, but then I looked down at his feet and he had a sixth toe growing out the top of his little toe." Lindsey burst out: "You make it sound like Damascus is a city of freaks!" which is just a hilarious mental image. See the postcards: Visit Damascus, City of Freaks.
The Fulbright orientation starts tomorrow and I'm not very happy because it means I have to miss two full days of class! That's eight hours, and the midterm at the end of this week. And soon I promise to write about the shit that's been going down here: nuclear Syria? and bombs in Beirut.
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
Mad Props
No disrepect to Ramadan or Islam is intended on my part. Fasting during Ramadan is mad hard, hard enough that I couldn't keep it up for long. I was more making fun of myself for fasting because unlike Muslims I don't have any religious or spiritual reasons behind it, and I'm a pussy who couldn't do it. I was really just doing it for the experience, but when I realized I was looking forward to my period for the first time ever (women can't fast during that) it was clear that Ramadan isn't for me. So I don't know which is really more offensive: my complaining about how hard Ramadan is or fasting as an atheist "trying out something new!" I'm done fasting now since never getting sick or having a digestive problem when I was in Egypt is catching up with me (what happened to my stomach of steel?).
"Dude, fasting is hard. How long till iftar? I want some water."
"Why are you doing it if all you do it complain?"
"..."
And here's a random fun quote from a friend: "In Syria, we worship the moustache."
"Dude, fasting is hard. How long till iftar? I want some water."
"Why are you doing it if all you do it complain?"
"..."
And here's a random fun quote from a friend: "In Syria, we worship the moustache."
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
Classes Classes
I've had three days of classes thus far, and it's not so bad (when you drink water). Today I didn't even wake up for sohour, so I feel incredibly well-rested, and I've already had a bottle of water and a date so I feel incredibly fucking incredible.
Classes aren't bad. 9am-1pm 5 days a week. I have 14 in my class, Germans, Swiss, French, Koreans, Spanish, Danes, a Norwegian, and another American. You can hear their accents through the Arabic, which is quite funny. Especially the French and the Koreans. But I've already hooked up a language exchange with a medical student twice a week to really learn the Syrian ammiya, as class is straight fusha.
Yesterday after class I went to Yarmouk, a Palestinian refugee camp on the outskirts of Damascus to help my friend Colin teach an English class. There wasn't a great turnout because of Ramadan, but once this month is over there should be a lot more coming. It's sad - we were at a Palestianian Cultural center and the walls were covered with murals drawn by the children. While the situation is obviously more dire for Palestinians in the occupied territories its hard to believe that in all the negotiations the only mention to the refugees is that there should be "a just settlement". Class was on the roof under a large curtain to shield the sun, and looking over Yarmouk (which is huge) I thought, "These people will never return to Palestine." It's really fucking sad.
After class I accompanied Colin to his friend Ra'id's house for iftar (where we all had hung out playing cards last Thursday night). It's really fun hanging with those guys, but Ra'id is hitting on me and I really don't need that. I just wanna hang, yo. He called me Saturday to invite me to an art gallery on Sunday morning, but I had class. Then last night he's asking me if we can go out sometime this week to talk, so he can "get to know me better." Jesus. The food was delicious though, and Ra'id and Ruba's (his 20 year old sister) mom loves me and my laugh and jokingly told me I had to move in.
Classes aren't bad. 9am-1pm 5 days a week. I have 14 in my class, Germans, Swiss, French, Koreans, Spanish, Danes, a Norwegian, and another American. You can hear their accents through the Arabic, which is quite funny. Especially the French and the Koreans. But I've already hooked up a language exchange with a medical student twice a week to really learn the Syrian ammiya, as class is straight fusha.
Yesterday after class I went to Yarmouk, a Palestinian refugee camp on the outskirts of Damascus to help my friend Colin teach an English class. There wasn't a great turnout because of Ramadan, but once this month is over there should be a lot more coming. It's sad - we were at a Palestianian Cultural center and the walls were covered with murals drawn by the children. While the situation is obviously more dire for Palestinians in the occupied territories its hard to believe that in all the negotiations the only mention to the refugees is that there should be "a just settlement". Class was on the roof under a large curtain to shield the sun, and looking over Yarmouk (which is huge) I thought, "These people will never return to Palestine." It's really fucking sad.
After class I accompanied Colin to his friend Ra'id's house for iftar (where we all had hung out playing cards last Thursday night). It's really fun hanging with those guys, but Ra'id is hitting on me and I really don't need that. I just wanna hang, yo. He called me Saturday to invite me to an art gallery on Sunday morning, but I had class. Then last night he's asking me if we can go out sometime this week to talk, so he can "get to know me better." Jesus. The food was delicious though, and Ra'id and Ruba's (his 20 year old sister) mom loves me and my laugh and jokingly told me I had to move in.
Sunday, September 16, 2007
دعيفة وسعيدة
That didn't last very long. Yesterday, the third day of Ramadan, I broke my fast. I had run a shitload of errands, and was hanging with my friend Colin deciphering a newspaper (he's working on Jahin). The sun was brutal. Fuck it, I bought some water. ya haram! But it was delicious. Maybe with the promise of heavenly rewards I could have held out. Food, that's not so hard but water? That's just cruel. So I drank. I was weak and happy- دعيفة وسعيدة . But I guess that's quite common for me ever since I lost my religion, whereas in my younger, religious years I would have savoured suffering for god. I'm weak and hedonistic, and loving it!
My I-need-some-water position was reconfirmed today during the first day of classes. I actually tested into level 5, though with how the test went I had been readying myself for 3. Four hours a day - I can't get through that without something to drink. Food in my belly from a more recent time than 4am suhour would also be nice. Also, suhour makes me dead tired. Iftar at 7 means I'm not that tired until 11 or 12. Suhour at 4am. When suhour is over before 5 (after helping clean up and all that) It takes me a while to get to sleep, what with having just eaten and the tea forced upon me each morning. Another girl in my house also broke fast today with Coke and juice. I'll still not eat during the day (for however long that lasts on this, the fourth day of Ramadan) but give me that water.
My I-need-some-water position was reconfirmed today during the first day of classes. I actually tested into level 5, though with how the test went I had been readying myself for 3. Four hours a day - I can't get through that without something to drink. Food in my belly from a more recent time than 4am suhour would also be nice. Also, suhour makes me dead tired. Iftar at 7 means I'm not that tired until 11 or 12. Suhour at 4am. When suhour is over before 5 (after helping clean up and all that) It takes me a while to get to sleep, what with having just eaten and the tea forced upon me each morning. Another girl in my house also broke fast today with Coke and juice. I'll still not eat during the day (for however long that lasts on this, the fourth day of Ramadan) but give me that water.
Saturday, September 15, 2007
Ramadan is Easier if You Sleep All Day
Thursday night after iftar I went to visit my friend Colin in Jeremana, an area of Damascus that used to be heavily Druze but now there's lots of Iraqis too. Not only was it the first of Ramadan, but it was also a Christian holiday عيد الصليب (festival of the cross). I don't think we have anything similar here, and I don't really know what it celebrates. I found out about it during iftar when we heard booms from outside. "That's the Christians celebrating." We went up to the roof and could see where people were shooting up fireworks into the sky. Bab Toma was quite busy as well.
In Jeremana, Colin, the guy he's living with Tariq, and I walked around before going At Raid's we mostly talked, shishaed, and played Old Maid. Tariq expressed admiration for Hitler. Why? Because he killed Jews, and the enemy of my enemy is my friend. Tariq admitted that he knows Jews and Israelis are different, and that the Holocaust was instrumental in gaining support for the state of Israel, and that it's bad when innocent people die. "Still," he said, "you have to admit that he is better than Stalin." Raid's sister joined us for cards. At around 11 I texted Huda to let her know I would be late. At 12:30 I thought I should go, but was convinced to stay. So I stayed until sohur (the meal before sunrise), getting home after 5am.
Woke up Friday at noon. Apologized to Um Zahir and Huda cause everyone told me they had been worried about me when I didn't show up for sohur. Turns out Huda's number in my phone was off a digit. Took a nap later in the day. This makes waiting for iftar much more bareable, but I won't be able to do this when I have class 9-12:30 tomorrow.
In Jeremana, Colin, the guy he's living with Tariq, and I walked around before going At Raid's we mostly talked, shishaed, and played Old Maid. Tariq expressed admiration for Hitler. Why? Because he killed Jews, and the enemy of my enemy is my friend. Tariq admitted that he knows Jews and Israelis are different, and that the Holocaust was instrumental in gaining support for the state of Israel, and that it's bad when innocent people die. "Still," he said, "you have to admit that he is better than Stalin." Raid's sister joined us for cards. At around 11 I texted Huda to let her know I would be late. At 12:30 I thought I should go, but was convinced to stay. So I stayed until sohur (the meal before sunrise), getting home after 5am.
Woke up Friday at noon. Apologized to Um Zahir and Huda cause everyone told me they had been worried about me when I didn't show up for sohur. Turns out Huda's number in my phone was off a digit. Took a nap later in the day. This makes waiting for iftar much more bareable, but I won't be able to do this when I have class 9-12:30 tomorrow.
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