Day 10, 11, and 12

Now that I've waited so long to chronicle all our adventures, I truly cannot remember any more of the details. But, again, no one really cares. It's just the recounting of the stories that's important, right? What was most memorable about those last days in Damascus was our "hike" to the site of the first crime of humanity, that is, where Cain slew Abel (or in Arabic Cabil and Habil)!

We decided late in the afternoon to follow the directions that appeared in the June 2008 edition of the magazine, Syria Today, to find the "Cave of 40" way up in Jebel Kassioum, the mountain that acts as a backdrop to the city of Damascus. First off, we had to journey to a section of the city Dania had never ventured into before and, once there, we asked a young man if he knew which service to take in order to get to the base of the mountain. He was kind enough to walk us across the busy street, hail the minibus that passed by, and because neither of us had small change, even PAID for our ride!!! Again, there's that unbelievable Syrian generosity! So, we sort of arrived where we were supposed to be, but still knew that we needed somehow to go UP. Dania found a taxi driver who claimed for a certain number of lira he'd take us, only to find out that he would drop us at a point where he then arranged for some other guy driving a 2-seater truck to take us up the VERY narrow, winding road to the "top."

Now, first of all, it was a very small truck. So, Dania, who sat in the middle, was really cozy with our driver and with the stick shift......Second of all, we were going so fast and so vertically UP that I thought at times we'd never make it alive - HONESTLY! It was drizzling at that point and I kept worrying that the truck's tires wouldn't hold as we made those sharp turns up, up and farther up. But, finally, he got us up as far as he could go, and we thanked him for his skillful driving and hopped out. By this time, it must have been about one hour before sunset. So, we kept moving up by foot now through narrow alleyways of very old looking homes, until we finally made it to the beginning (!) of our real climb:



As you can see, this stairway seemed to go to heaven and maybe even beyond.....I almost felt as though we were at Yosemite doing some of those steep hikes with loads of cut backs (or whatever they're called so that you aren't climbing straight up all the time). I think I've read that there are over 600 steps, but it's got to be WAY more than that. Finally, though, we did arrive at the very top at a very unpretentious looking mosque, a building that apparently has been in existence for over 1000 years. It is at this spot that many, many religious figures have retreated for safety, reflection and/or prayer, to include Moses, Abraham, Mohammed and, of course, Cain and Abel.

This cave is called Raja Arbain (cave of 14 men). Fourteen prophets came to live in this cave over time. Many of these men were Sufi, others were Jews and some were Christians. Apparently, the distinctions between these religions were not so great as they are now.

This is a portion of the story of Adam wa Howa (or Adam and Eve). After bearing many children, Eve gave birth to a girl who grew to be very beautiful. God told Adam wow Howa that there should be no marriage between any of these siblings. But Kabil wow Habil (Cain and Abel) were both infatuated with this one sister. Adam suggested that they both make a sacrifice to God to see who should marry this daughter. Kabil was a sheep herder and he offered up to God a very large fat sheep. Habil was a farmer and he offered up a meager gift of wheat. When God accepted Kabil's sheep via a flash of light taking the sheep to heaven, Kabil became enraged and took up a large rock and killed Habil in the cave. (OK, some of this story doesn't quite hang together, but it must be because it's been passed down many, many times.....so bear with me here.)

Now at this very time, Adam and Eve were in Mecca and at the very moment of the murder Adam was drinking water that turned very bad. He knew that something was wrong and turned to his wife to tell her that there had been a death. She was unfamiliar with death, since this was the first death of all time.

Meanwhile back at the cave, the mountain shook for seven days. A portion of the cave's wall opened up to resemble a very large human mouth with tongue, as if in a scream! This formation is one of the first things the son of the Imam of the mosque showed us once we removed our shoes, put on the appropriate covering and entered the cave/mosque. He then informed us that, upon the Abel's murder, the Angel Gabriel came and lifted his hand up upon the roof of the cave. You really can see something that appears to be a hand print embedded in the rock there. Above the hand print, in a seam of the rock, is the word Allah in Arabic script.

The son then showed us where fleeing Christians had once hid out beyond this portion of the cave. Finally, he brought us out to the mosque itself and explained that Moses, Abraham, Jesus, Moses, Jacob, and many other prophets had prayed where we were standing. I'm not sure whether I believe all that he had to share with us, but then why not! Ousama has always claimed that Damascus was where the Garden of Eden was. So....

According to both the Bible and the Koran, Habil carried Kabil to Zabadan in the Lebanon mountains. He didn't know what do do with the body. On the way he watched one bird kill another. He then watched the surviving bird scratch out a grave and watched the bird cover it as well. He did the same to establish the first burial rite. Some of the above is pretty cobbled together, but you get the gist, right?

On our very short (since it was downhill) hike back home, we veered toward the right and ended up walking right into Dania's souq! Just before I realized where we were, I took this shot of an engraving on the side of a house. Its date is sometime in the 1300s!!!



That evening, I think, we took a LONG taxi ride out to the Palestinian refugee camps where Dania's Arabic tutor, Usra, lives with her young children and where she offers Arabic lessons to various Americans and British students. Wow, what a difference between Usra's apartment and anything I had seen in Damascus proper. Many of these refugee camps have been in existence since 1948 and then again others since 1967. And, boy, do they look like slums - maybe not so bad as what I remember the upper parts of Harlem were like in the 1970's, but BAD enough. Anyway, we had a lovely meal with the other students and their families who, like me, were visiting at Christmas time.

The next day, New Year's Eve, I finally had the opportunity to meet the Iraqi students Dania has been tutoring through the Iraqi Student Project.

But, even before our visit, we had to return one last time to the Journalist's Club so that Dania could coordinate her lesson for the Iraqis with another tutor. Once again, the management was profusely apologetic when Dania entered the room and comped us our tea! Maybe she can drag this out forever??

After all the coordination, we finally moved on to the ISP tutor room in what looked to me like a dilapidated old building within walking distance of the Journalist's Club. One by one, each student came in for their hour-long session with Teacher Dania.


After the formal portion of her lesson, each of the students asked me questions. I was sort of prepared for the "interview;" however, I wasn't really prepared for the political nature of so many of their questions. How would you answer the question of "What is the American dream" in basic English and in just a few minutes??? Anyway, during that short period of time, I realized that these kids were really good people who just happened to have been born at the wrong time in Iraq. Many of them have pretty sad stories Here's a video of what ISP is and who some of these kids are. I admire what they're trying to do in preparing themselves to qualify to study in the US and then to return to help their country rebuild itself. I also admire Theresa and Gabe, the two Americans who are responsible for ISP. They're pretty idealistic ex-hippies who saw a need in Damascus and have been trying to find full-ride scholarships for each and every one of these deserving people in the U.S. By the way, I also admire Dania for getting involved in this worthy cause!

So, on to the fun and games of New Year's Eve. We started off with a pre-dinner meal with Gabe and Theresa in their very funky place in what seemed to me the commerical part of downtown Damascus. Our contribution to the festivities there was a big bottle of Polo, that WONDERFUL lemon and mint drink. After putting in an appearance there, we hoofed it to the next celebration at one of Helena's UN friend's homes where they were barbecuing WONDERFUL lamb and where the wine was flowing. All I have to say is the Aussies, New Zealanders (they must have a nickname?),Swedes and Danes know how to drink. Then, the party moved on to the US Embassy's "club" in the basement of the building. It was almost like being back in college at a fraternity house: beer was flowing, music was way too loud and there were several big-screen TVs showing US football games! After about one hour, Dania and I both agreed that this was NOT where we wanted to see in 2009. But it was not before she and Helena had a bit of fun.


At this point, I don't remember how we got where we went next nor do I remember where we went. But, we ended up with a group of Dania's real friends, a mix of Europeans and Arabs who've been friends for a while now. It seemed way beyond midnight when the ball finally dropped, but it was a memorable evening way up in some high rise apartment building with a view of ??? What a blur!

While I don't remember how we returned home, I do vaguely remember waking up and regretting the fact that I'd have to leave my "little baby" that afternoon. But, I was looking forward to sleeping in my own bed and to some warmer weather (it had actually snowed on New Year's Eve up in the mountains!). So, I bucked up, packed up, and prepared for Dima's driver's arrival so that we could head out to the airport. It was about halfway out there that we saw the snow up in the mountains that separate Damascus from Lebanon. What a sight. I had left home with snow in our "mountains" and was leaving Syria with a similar sight.

What a way to spend the Christmas holidays! Dania's version of life is revved up so fast that her old mom can barely keep up, but she certainly knows how to have fun, with a little bit of drama thrown in! I thank her for our Seriously Syrian Escapade.

Day 9

This day was spent more or less relaxing and finishing up my shopping in the two souqs. One of the most memorable experiences we had the entire time occurred then. Dania had shown me two cigarette lighters that her Tasmanian friend had given her. They look like regular ones; however, they also function as “flashlights,” in that if you turn on the other end and point the lighter toward a flat surface in a darkened room, you see a projected photo, on one, of Hassan Nasrallah, the leader of Hezbollah in Lebanon, and, on the other, a photo of the chinless wonder, Bashar al Assad, fearless leader of Syria! When she showed me these lighters, I died laughing and knew that there were some people at home who would howl too! So, one of our goals in Souq Al Hamidiya was to find those suckers.

We must have gone from stall to stall with Dania using every word she could come up with to explain exactly what we were looking for. I think most of the young guys working at each wondered what the hell two Americans wanted with these “lighters.” Fortunately after about the fifth referral, we found our man and bought enough for all who’d appreciate them at home.

The souqs of Syria are pretty amazing just to wander through. They are organized by types of things sold – more or less; and I cannot for the life of me figure out how anyone would remember how to return to one particular stall, given the fact that the entire area is so cavernous. It runs 500 meters from east to west, starts near the city’s citadel



(a far cry from the really impressive one in Aleppo), and ends at the Roman archway just before the Umayyad mosque. Most of the souq is arched with iron ribs covered with corrugated metal. In places you can actually see the hundreds of bullet holes that were shot there during the turmoil with the French in the 1920s . It was apparently built on the site of an ancient Roman fortress, some of which you can see, during the Ottoman empire in the 18th century.
Dania’s recently met a British woman who claims to be mapping the souq . I like what she has to say about the entire area. It is pretty magical in its variety, sometimes its exoticness and other times its mundaneness – if those last two words are really words!

So, we were pretty much finished with shopping and had enough time to relax a bit before our dinner date with some of Julian’s roommates, Bridgette and Haidar, at the Journalist Club. It was pretty crowded this time when we arrived. But, of course, it was dinner time and not well after hours as before! I happened to notice, as we sat down, a group of four men right next to us; and the only reason I noticed them was that they had a full bottle of Johnny Walker Red and a full bottle of “red wine sweet” at their table. But, we got busy with our dinner and chats. At some point while we were just finishing up eating, one of the men rose from his table and started walking toward our table. All of a sudden, he fell right on top of Dania moaning something that sort of sounded like “Allah, allah.” Well, you can imagine my instinct…..I immediately hopped up, moved toward her to try to pull her (and her purse) out of under the tub-of-lard who was still moaning. My thought at the time was that the guy was having a heart attack! The waiters and bartender ran over and took him away so fast that things were “back to normal” before we really knew what had happened! Within a few more minutes, our waiter came back with profuse apologies and our bill that had been slashed in half! By that point, I had had the time to look over at the men’s table to see that all but about 2 shots of the scotch was gone and all the wine had disappeared. The guy was just drunk as a skunk!
It was funny when we returned the next day, after Dania realized that one of her earrings was missing. The nice men were still so apologetic and embarrassed over what had happened. I found the entire episode VERY funny, because Ousama had quite adamantly claimed that Dania would NEVER run into drinking problems in Syria!!!! I should have taken a photo of the club for posterity. Maybe, Dania, if you ever read this, you will for me!!!??

Day 8

Now, before I put up photos of what we saw, I have to explain what Crac des Chevaliers is or was. To be accurate, we should refer to it as "fortified architecture" that was built during the time of the Crusades by the Hospitaller Order of Saint John of Jerusalem from 1142 to 1271. It literally means Castle of the Knights. Many consider it, along with Saladin's castle that's in between Aleppo and Latakia, as the best preserved examples of Crusader castles. It was built in a strategic location, the Homs Gap, sort of half way between Antioch, Turkey and Tripoli and, therefore, Beirut. In ancient times and then during the Crusades, to have control of that high point in the Anti-Lebanon mountains was to control the entire area. Whatever, it's a pretty amazing structure! Unfortunately, we didn't take or have the time after wandering inside to hike to some point for a really good overall view. So, what I just added gives you an idea of how imposing it is from the valley below.

When we woke in the morning, one of the first things I did (as I waited for Dania to wake up) was to go out on the balcony to see what we couldn't see the night before. The Wadi Al Nadara (Valley of the Christians) area and the actual village where we stayed, Meshtaye, first of all, is in stark contrast to what we saw the day before as we drove from Damascus to Palmyra and then on to the wadi. It was fertile, green and rain had actually fallen before we arrived! Plus, the view of Crac was pretty impressive. I had read somewhere that we could walk from the hotel to Crac; however, just looking up at where we’d have to go, I knew immediately that such a walk/hike was not in the cards for a half-day venture!

Once Dania roused herself, we headed again for the dining room for a typical Syrian breakfast: bread, cheese, cucumbers, tomatoes, juice and coffee. Then, ready for another day of adventure, we first of all walked to St. George monastery of Homeyra that was about a mile slightly up the way from the hotel. That we could hike!

The establishment of the monastery dates back to the sixth century during the reign of Emperor Justinian. Many believe that "Homeyra" derives from the Greek word for "torrent," because the area is subject to torrential rains in the winter. Others believe that the monastery is built over the ruins of a pagan temple dedicated to the god “Homeyra." Whatever the truth is, what we eventually found, after going into the currently used sanctuary that dates from the 19th century, looked pretty old to me! The "new" church is considered to be on the "third" floor; but for our purposes it was on street level. A very kind monk guided us down to the 2nd and then 1st floors, the bottom of which was the original sanctuary and really just a cave with separate cells for the monks. I would imagine on a hot day, it would be THE place to be!

So, curious about who St. George was, I have done just enough research to know that he was born to a Christian noble family during the late third century between about 275 AD and 285 AD, in Lydda, Palestine. His father Geronzio was a Roman army official from Cappadocia and his mother from Palestine. They were both Christians and from noble families of Anici (which means "cannot be defeated").

When he was 14 he signed up to be a soldier in Diocletian’s army. At some point, after George made a name for himself in the army, Diocletian arrested all Christians to include George, who continued to profess his belief in Jesus. So, Dio had no choice and beheaded him along with all the others. As a martyred Roman Christian, he is the saint of various countries, two of which are England and Palestine.

His other claim to fame is the 11th century myth/legend of his slaying the dragon, a story that seems to have been brought back to Europe by the Crusaders: A dragon makes its nest at the spring that provides water for the city of "Silene" (modern Cyrene?) in Libya or the city of Lydda (now a suburb of Tel Aviv), depending on the source. The people of the city have to divert the dragon from its nest from time to time to collect water. So, each day they offer the dragon a sheep, and if no sheep can be found, then a girl must go instead. The victim is chosen by drawing lots. One day, the one chosen is the princess. The monarch begs for her life to no avail. She is offered to the dragon, but, lo and behold, George comes to her rescue. He faces the dragon, protects himself with the sign of the cross, slays it and rescues the princess. The grateful citizens abandon their ancestral paganism, convert to Christianity, and everyone lives happily ever after or at least until 1949…..if in fact this all occurred in Lydda. Anyway, many of the iconostasis (like that word? fancy, framed icon paintings) in the older part of the church are of him taking care of the dragon.

Satisfied with our early morning sojourn, we walked back to the hotel where we hopped a cab up the steep road to Crac des Chevaliers. Our driver had obviously driven up before, because he had no qualms about going pretty fast around the sharp turns in the narrow road and through what I considered to be pretty heavy pedestrian traffic in the village. We discovered, once we arrived, that the village down below Crac that we had just sped through was where the original inhabitants of Crac had been forced to move when the French came in to renovate the entire fortress in the early 1900s.

Like at Palmyra, we hired a guide to walk us through the entire fortress and explain what we were seeing. Walid was a very interesting man who couldn’t have been much older than 50, but who had the worst set of teeth I think I’ve ever seen! Perhaps he’d never been to a dentist in his life?? Plus, of course, smoking hadn’t helped. Anyway, he was knowledgeable about Crac because his grandparents and parents had lived there until forced to leave.

It’s such a massive structure that it housed an incredible number of horses and men (apparently no women were allowed until later and even then only in one particular tower). Wandering through the entire structure, Walid filled us in on its history, starting with the fact that Crac had been built on the side of an ancient fort called the "castle on the slope,” later to be renamed "the Kurdish castle" because a Kurdish garrison was built there in 1031 by the Emir of Homs. So, we started at that oldest spot with Kurdish architectural influence and moved throughout what I think was the entire interior fortress.






Both Nuraldin and his brother Saladin considered taking it during the Crusades, but, after giving it the once-over, realized that it was way too well fortified to be taken! In fact, it was only through trickery, during one of the last crusades, that the Mamluk, al-Zahir Baibars (or al-Malik al-Zahir Rukn al-Din Baybars al-Bunduqdari) assaulted it for a month with huge 600 kg stones before breaking into the fortress' outer perimeter. But even having broken through the outer wall didn’t work. They couldn't get all the way inside.

The 300 defenders inside had supplies for 5 years and they only finally gave in, in exchange for safe conduit, after being tricked by a forged letter from the count of Tripoli ordering them to do so. Trickery and lies were a part of war in those days as they were during the Bush administration. The only difference is that in those days leaders would lie to the enemy, not to their own people!

It was fun walking through the place pretending to be a damsel in distress. I’ll end our 4-hour stay at Crac with some photos, the funniest of which is Dania squatting in a deep hole that was used to store olive oil!







History really hit me right in the face as we walked up a steep staircase (that would NOT exist in the US without guardrails!) to where Richard the Lionheart looked out of his room window. This is what he saw:



- View directly below his window -



- View of the countryside down from Crac -


All in all, Crac des Chevaliers was pretty amazing. Since returning home, I have begun reading more about the Crusades, Netflixing good documentaries on the subject and especially about this area of Syria.


We had asked the taxi cab driver if he’d pick us up and then drive us to Homs so that we could take the bus back to Damascus. When Dania had first made these arrangements, I kept thinking to myself, “There’s no way this guy’ll show up and actually agree to drive us the 45 minutes to Homs for the small amount of money they had agreed upon.” Amazingly enough, as we descended the final steps over the drawbridge, there he was! This kind of thing happened a lot while I was in Syria.
The drive to Homs in daylight was great because it gave me an opportunity to see what we’d passed by the night before. Again, the area in between Damascus and Aleppo that includes Homs and Hama is so much more fertile and green than anything I remember from Aleppo and what surrounds Damascus. I guess it is equivalent to the central part of California – Syria’s breadbasket. Anyway, we made it to Homs and the bus depot and even boarded a bus within 20 minutes of having arrived. We had “entertainment” the whole way back to the capital: videos of what looked like old-time Syrian television on the lines of the Ed Sullivan Show. The other “impressive” thing about our bus trip was that we not only had a bus driver (dah!), but also an assistant who floated up and down the aisle initially serving water and then who knows what he did besides change the dvds. Seeing this young guy made me realize that in a “socialist” country like Syria, everyone has a job – no matter how trivial. Perhaps this also explains why the taxi cab driver was back to pick us up. He had nothing better to do with his time. So, why not go back up the steep hill, pick up the Americans, drive them to Homs, and practice his English along the way. He even offered us his business card when he dropped us. Turns out he goes to Beirut during the work week and comes home to his family on Thursday evening for the weekend.

By the time we arrived back in Damascus (after eating shawarma [thinly sliced lamb with “secret sauce,” pickles, and in this case even fried potatoes!, wrapped up in pita bread] at the bus station) we were ready NOT to be tourists for a while. I think it was that late afternoon that we walked up to Dania’s souq, bought some stuff for dinner and found a dvd “store” (it probably measured 2 feet wide by 6 feet deep AT MOST) as we walked around looking at other things. This place was amazing, because first-run movies at home were available for less than $5! We bought Milk and Burn After Reading, and that’s the way we spent that evening – having a quiet dinner and watching movies on Dania’s laptop!

Day 7

Well, the day finally arrived for us to take our journey eastward toward Palmyra. Dania kept saying that she preferred Palmyra to Petra, and I could NOT see how that was possible. So, I was eager to get underway. I think some of her fondness for the area has to do with the freelance piece she did for Syria Today, Palmyra Camel Races.

So, bright and early, Abu Saleh greeted us in his Chinese SUV and we headed east out of Damascus. Once we were out of the city for about 30 minutes, the terrain became EXTREMELY arid and desert like and pretty isolated. We had reached al Badieh, the Syrian desert. (FYI: If we were to have continued on the highway we were on and gone beyond Palmyra, we would have found that "nuclear reactor" that Israel annihilated last year.) Occasionally we would see Bedouin tents and a few semi-oases; however, most of the land was pretty devoid of human traces. At one point, Abu Saleh mentioned that he'd just seen a falcon perched on a telephone wire. He informed us that people come out to this area to capture these birds because the Emirati sheikhs will pay up to $20,000 for one of them for their hunting ability! After about an hour's drive, we stopped at the Baghdad Cafe:

No, we didn't stop at that motel from the movie, Baghdad Cafe, we came to a resting spot named because it is located close to one of the main passages from the Mediterranean coast to Baghdad in Central Mesopotamia. The Bedouins who run the cafe, the Sherfaldine family, offer a place to sleep over night (for those brave enough to be hiking around) or just a place to stop for coffee and souvenirs, like us! We shared sweet, hot Arabic coffee with the owner and then looked around to see what they had to offer: Bedouin-made bags, handmade tiles and lots of fossils of fish that are found in the area (proof that the Mediterranean once covered much of what is now Syria). Here are some photos from our stop:



These beehive buildings are typical of the Syrian desert and keep the Bedouins warm in the winter and cool in the summer.

Having fortified ourselves, stretched our legs and otherwise availed ourselves of the Baghdad Cafe's facilities, we headed on another hour to Palmyra or Tadmur (its Semitic name meaning "the indomitable town"). Apparently the earliest reference to the area appeared on Babylonian tablets, and the city of "Tamur" was mentioned in the Hebrew Bible. So, we're talking a LONG time ago....Anyway, because of its strategic location halfway between Damascus and the Euphrates, it became a very important city as the Silk Road developed and thrived between China and Rome.

I've entered new photos taken at Palymra on my Flickr account, so I won't upload many here. Abu Saleh has acted as a guide to Palymra quite a few times and knew exactly where to take us to begin with in order to get a perspective of how large the ruins really are and, therefore, how extensive Tadmur was in its heyday. None of my shots turned out very well; however, this photo gives you some idea of its size. Particularly from the high point where Abu Saleh first brought us, it was quite impressive that such an extensive city developed so FAR from civilization.

We drove down to where the majority of the ruins lay and walked around, most of the time pestered by the Bedouins who had trinkets to sell or who had camels (one named Bob Marley that Dania did ride when she was there earlier....)for "rent." One place I did find of personal interest was the amphitheater that is located among quite a lot of fallen columns. It's in good repair and is used for concerts occasionally. Dania informed me as I wandered there that a well-known Aleppan singer, Sabah Fakhri, performed there not too long ago. I've posted this here, more as a joke than anything else, because I have sat through one of his performances and almost fell asleep. Syrians LOVE this guy because he sings old Syrian songs that must bring back memories. Go figure....he does have lasting power that's for sure! Actually, as I look at this video in which he's singing about "Sham" or Damascus, I can imagine westerners are shocked to see the dancing. I'm sure this was a private party of well-to-do families enjoying the "old times." There are many, many sides to the Middle East! Cannot resist inserting the photo now of the amphitheater:




After awhile we headed toward the Temple of Ba'al, originally a Helenistic temple that was apparently built on top of the original temple that many claim Solomon built! When Palmyra became a part of the Roman empire (in the reign of Tiberius in the 1st century AD), the temple and city became important stops on the Silk Road. Hadrian visited it in 129 and, liking it so much, granted it free city status and renamed it Palmyra Hadriana. During the mid to late 200's, with the advent of the Sassinids (Persians), Palmyra lost its importance to the Romans, as the Persians wrecked havoc in the area. Thanks to that period of chaos, Queen Zenobia took control of the city, rebelled against the Romans and went on to take over Bosra (in southern Syria) and lands as far to the west as Egypt, military feats that established the short-lived Palmyrene Empire. Queen Zenobia, the Warrior Queen, is really what intrigued me about Palmyra! She claimed to be related to both Dido of Carthage and Cleopatra and she must have had some nerve/charisma/charm to claim land from Bosra all the way to Egypt!

So, enough history......the temple still stands relatively intact and shows signs of its use by so many different religions! While we were at the temple, we hired a very pushy and opinionated guide to fill us in on its history. He pretty much ignored me, once he established the fact that Dania's father was from Aleppo and a Muslim and that I was neither. He firmly informed Dania that she should follow her father's religion, the superior one. It's amazing how many of the people we met throughout our trip pointedly asked her religion once they knew her father is a Syrian Arab! Anyway, Mr. Proselytizer then proceeded to give us a very good idea of the area out and inside the temple, to include showing us where the "non-people of the book" worshiped by sacrificing MANY animals. There were elaborate drainage pipes to allow the blood to run away from the altar! Plus, he pointed out the interesting grinder mechanism that was off to the side of the temple that was used to grind either grapes or olives. The area where they are sitting is the base (or mortar) that has a column in the center where those big round discs fit. Somehow someone moved the discs (the pestle?) around inside the mortar to crush whatever was inside!



Having completed our tour through Temple Ba'al and biding Mr. Superior a fond mah salamah, Abu Saleh suggested that, rather than have lunch at Palmyra or in the town of Tadmur, we should get on the rode toward Crac des Chaveliers in western Syria, close to the city of Homs that everyone in the country makes fun of - sort of how we make fun of Poles. He thought we could stop on the way at a Bedouin encampment and have lunch with them. Or, at least, that was what I thought I understood.... The distance between Palmyra and Crac (as I will now refer to it) is only 155 kilometers and supposedly we would arrive in the village down below Crac, Wadi Al Nadara, in about 2 and 1/2 hours....However, apparently Abu Salieh thought we were up for an adventure and took us way off the typical highway that goes straight to Homs. From the map that I've found, we went way north into an area that actually was pretty interesting looking (sort of more of the same arid steppe lands), but this area must be geologically valuable, because we kept seeing signs and then eventually buildings of a Canadian oil or gas concern. We also saw lots of Bedouin tents and he kept stopping telling us that he was looking for a specific family. However, he must not ever have found the people he typically "broke bread" with because we eventually just pulled off the side of the road, and he set up a picnic.

Now, I would have thought this was great if it were spring or even summer time. But it was a pretty windy and chilly late afternoon when he pulled out big pillows for us to sit on the rocky ground. Anyway, he started a fire, heated up water for tea, and "toasted" hot dog buns for each of us. Then he pulled out what looked to me like Kraft cheese singles to put in the warmed buns. After "lunch" he offered us some tasty preserved candied orange peels which reminded me of past Christmases at home!!! For mood music, he must have asked one of his adult sons to create an English language music CD which he played at full blast from his car. The CD consisted of the corniest songs from my teenage years! He regaled us also with stories of his failed marriage, among other topics, all of which Dania took in and had questions about. While it wasn't exactly what I had expected, it was pleasant enough and Abu Salieh certainly typifies the image so many tourists have when they visit Syria. He was so thoughtful and kind that it was hard to criticize his simple version of a hospitable afternoon! Of course, just today, Dania informed me that she's recently had tea with him at his home to meet his children and AS told her that he was "packing" on that day......he actually had a revolver stuck in his boot, "just in case we ran into problems out there in the desert"!!!!

So, we trudged on the highway and eventually reached Wadi Al Nadara and the Al Wadi hotel where he dropped us off, after he made sure we had a room and all was kosher. To his credit, he even called the next morning to make sure we were OK! I've included this one photo of the hotel, because it was a pretty impressive structure, obviously constructed to "blend in" with the fortress that loomed above it. As we checked in, my first impression was how deserted the place was and later realized that December is NOT high tourist season! Plus, the lobby area was downright COLD, something that made me remember our first hotel at Petra. Fortunately, though, we were shown to a really nice "suite" that was toasty and comfy. It also had a TV to which we immediately turned in order to get updates on what was happening in Gaza. We both had kept hearing mention of Gaza on the radio that Abu S. had on, but didn't know what was happening.

So, after having updated ourselves and warming up, we headed downstairs to see what the hotel restaurant was like. It was enormous and completely deserted except for us and two other English-speaking groups. We both figured our day-long adventure warranted a STIFF drink and, knowing that the wine would probably be Syrian (i.e., red wine sweet variety), I went straight to something HARD: vodka tonic. Well, our waiter had no clue what I meant, until Dania pulled out her Arabic words and charm....He returned with a highball glass that half full of what I assumed was room temperature vodka and a cold can with the English word "tonic" written on it. So, that looked promising, right? I poured as much of the "tonic" into my glass as I could and toasted Dania on another amazing Arabic adventure only to discover that the "tonic" tasted like bubble gum.....but whatever, it certainly tasted strong too. So, bottoms up with a tasty mezza-type (appetizer/tapas sort of)dinner. It actually turned out that the tonic was not the only culprit. The vodka was flavored too!!!! Anyway, it was a great sedative for a good night's sleep before tackling the crusader castle.

Day 6

These next few days have become sort of a blur as to exactly when we did what we did. But, I don't think anyone really cares except me. So, I'll sort of take liberties as to the facts.....

We sort of took the next day slowly as a way to recuperate from Jordan and to prepare for the following day when we had reservations with Abu Saleh, a guide Julian had hired when his mother came to visit earlier, who was going to drive us to Palmyra and then on to Crac des Chevaliers. So, after breakfast, we headed to an area where all the mini-vans congregate and hopped one to Maaloula, the village way up in the mountains northwest of Damascus, where Aramaic is still spoken.

It was interesting, first of all, to check out our driving companions for the hour-long trip. Everyone sort of had a "Sunday going on an excursion" kind of look on their faces. And, it was even more interesting to see the sights along the way. As we got out of the city limits, I noticed quite a few industrial parks and thriving looking business, some selling Chinese automobiles and trucks, another was the big Caterpillar plant. Isn't Caterpillar a US company and isn't there a US boycott on Syria??? Whatever....It was also interesting to see the many blackened windowed cars speeding by us. Dania had mentioned earlier that no one in Syria but government/military officials can have these windows. She explained later that, since it was a Friday, the people in the cars were all rushing out of town to spend the day off in their mountain villas. These mountain villas are ideal get-away places in the heat of the summer, but are also apparently popular in the dead of winter.

Anyway, we finally arrived way up in the mountains and noticed the difference in temperature immediately! Fortunately or unfortunately, we needed to do a bit of hiking in order to reach our first destination, the Greek Catholic St. Sergius (or Mar Sarkis) Church. So, by the time we did reach it, we had climbed up quite a bit of the village and had great views of Maaloula and the Kalamun mountains AND most importantly warmed up too. Here's a shot when we finally made it to the church:


We entered the church and were almost immediately greeted by a young woman who offered to give us a tour of her church and later recited the Lord's Prayer in Aramaic to us. The one fact that she shared with us as she led us around that has stuck with me is this 4th century church, or at least parts of it, are very old because of the shape of its round altar. Now, I have it confirmed by what I've just read that the Council of Nicea (in the year 325) banned round ones. The Carmel Mission, having been founded in 1771, seems very new in comparison! The church is named for Sergius/Sarkis who was a Roman soldier martyred (along with his fellow soldier, Bacchus) for his Christian beliefs. The church is filled with 17th and 18th century Christian iconography and was very, very interesting and a great idea to visit on the day after Christmas! (I've included this one link, because I was surprised to find it online, given the fact that our guide told all of us that photographs were strictly prohibited!) Here's Dania at the front door of Mar Sarkis (where photographs were OK):


Afterwards, we climbed a bit more and, using the book that has become Dania's bible, the Bradt Travel Guide, we followed the route toward the Greek Orthodox monastery of St. Thecla (Mar Takla), the daughter of a Seleucid prince. Thecla apparently was a disciple of St. Paul and followed him only to be miraculously saved at least twice when threatened by those who opposed his ministry. She supposedly eventually traveled with St. Paul on his proselytzing journeys and either returned to Maaloula to die and be buried there or ended her life in Rome and is buried with him there. This is part of Christian legend. So, who knows exactly what the truth is, but who cares. It was pretty amazing to be walking and exploring an area that had such old historic significance. If memory serves me correctly, the following photo is one of her at her monastery:



We wandered around a bit more until close to sunset and then hopped a bus this time back to Damascus. Once again, I was so impressed with the friendliness of everyone who shared stories and food on the way back.

That night we had an Indian dinner with Dania's Tasmanian friend, Harry. It was a very pleasant evening; however, all I could focus on was the fact that he was from Tasmania and didn't look like a devil! Have you ever met anyone from Tasmania? ...........whatever.

Day 5

We spent Christmas eve at a very nice hotel in Aqaba, and, thanks to Nick the Brit in Amman, we had a wonderful dinner at a close-by restaurant. On Christmas day, our goal was to drive to the Dead Sea and float! After a BIG buffet breakfast at the hotel (the best part of which was just watching all the different nationalities chose their form of breakfast!), we drove north of Aqaba onto the King's Highway and listened to very corny Christmas music, all of which were songs I had never heard before!

When we left Aqaba, it was so nice and warm and sunny; however, as we neared the Dead Sea, it was clear that we might finally encounter some rain. The drive between the two is about 4 hours, with the first 3 in an extreme desert-like area with very little to see but the sand, rocks and mountains in the distance. There were numerous police check points where we had to stop to show our passports. I guess it's easy enough to get into this area of Jordan with anything and nobody takes a chance these days. At the very last checkpoint, Dania was asked for her driver's license, something she knew she didn't have (it was still at a U.N. refugee check-in office in Syria....). Rather than hassle us, the police or military guy or ? simply allowed me to take over the driving. So, I headed us into the Dead Sea area where desert turned to very fertile ground and plenty of farms along the sides of the road.

It did rain/drizzle the entire time we were at the Dead Sea; however, it really didn't affect our day, since Dania had thought ahead in Aqaba and made reservations for us to have massages and enjoy the facilities at the sister hotel of the one we'd stayed in there. So, we drove into the place right on the sea, realized immediately that there was going to be a bit more money involved than we had anticipated, and remembered Allen's Christmas "walking around" money gift! It was an extremely nice Swedish-owned resort with unbelievable facilities. So, when in Rome AND on Christmas day, what do you do but be a Roman, right? We checked in, got our bags with towels, lotion, and PAPER underpants that neither of us figured out what to do with until well later, changed into our bathing suits hoping that we could at least dip our feet into the sea. Unfortunately, the entire area was closed because the they claimed the water was too rough. So, we headed for the massage area. Dania chose some high-end, torturous sounding version and I opted for the Swedish type. She was stretched so much that she ached for at least a day afterwards. I was in heaven and well taken care of by a Chinese man whose family had emigrated from Beijing 15 years before. He told me that, although at this point, he could understand Arabic pretty well, his mouth could not form the sounds, something I could understand completely! He also told me that his son was in his last year of college at Texas Christian University! We truly live in a global community, don't we! Anyway, after our massages, we finally got our chance to sample the Dead Sea waters in the resorts various pools, spas, jacuzzis and hydro-therapy areas. You really do float thanks to the high salt content! What a relaxing and unique way to spend Christmas day. Thank you, Allen!

After grabbing a bite to eat there, we trudged back through the rain to our car and gunned it back to Amman just in time to return it to the rental agency. I was VERY impressed all along the way south from Amman to Petra, Wadi Rum and Aqaba and then back north through the Dead Sea to Amman with the highways. They are very modern and, fortunately for us, the last part between the DS and Amman is well-lit too! While the rain wasn't too bad, the crappy rental car could have used new windshield wiper blades! But, after a bit of frustration over not finding where we were supposed to go, we finally made it, checked it back in and hopped on another service headed back to good ole Damascus.

Our adventure to Jordan was fun, but it was nice to be back in Dania's apartment and eventually back in her bed! The little rain that we had had in Jordan was apparently heavier in Damascus, a good thing because it cleared away the fog and/or smog that had been hanging around since my arrival. The next morning was clear, crisp and without any of the haze that I had seen earlier.

Day 4

After some negotiating the night before, we decided that driving to Palmyra in the eastern Syrian desert was going to have to be postponed, because the winds were apparently really blowing out that way. Instead, we figured that Jordan was as good a place to head come rain, shine, wind or ???

So, once again at a god awful hour for Dania, we headed out the way we'd been the night before when we went to Dima's and took a taxi to the central area just at the outskirts of Damascus where people then take a "service" (given the French pronunciation, but really just another taxi that tries to carry up to 4, sometimes 5 people) to either Beirut (to the west) or Amman (to the south). The countryside in between Damascus and Amman is pretty dry and arid; however, there are definitely more signs of agriculture on the Syrian side. Someone told me, while I was in Syria, that the country could pretty much sustain itself food-wise if it ever had sanctions placed on it as Iraq and Iran have had.

The highlight of this trip was the other individual, besides our driver, who traveled with us, Shin the water management consultant from Tokyo. He also had the idea of getting up early and heading to Amman, knew very little Arabic, and perhaps a bit more English. Half-way to Amman, we stopped at a place that could have sort of passed for a 7-11 except that they sold typical Arabic food and tourist kinds of things. While Dania was buying a Sim card for her cell phone (you need separate chips for each country in the Middle East), Shin and I chatted about why each of us was in the taxi. He consults throughout the world, has been to Kuwait (right at the beginning of the latest US military build up for Iraq), Dubai, and Yemen, but had never been to Syria and Jordan. So, he had explored Damascus and was headed to Petra and then the Dead Sea. I mentioned that we were planning on renting a car once we arrived in Amman and then driving that evening to Petra, and he asked if he could join. Well, why not; the more the merrier, right? So, when we were back in the taxi and again headed toward the border, we three agreed that Shin would go with us.

The border crossing was pretty interesting going from Syria to Jordan. The Jordanians were extremely careful in inspecting the entire car (to include the taxi's driving over an inspection hole to make sure there was no bomb or ? underneath). Plus, we went through an exit "interview" on the Syrian side and then one on the Jordanian side

I was really impressed with Amman and am sorry that I did not to take any photos while we were there. But we never went to any particular spot that would have given any perspective of the stark, hilly nature of the city. It's a much younger city than Damascus and without the long history of being continually civilized the way Damascus is. Jordanians are basically all Bedouins, many of who now have become urbanized. But whatever the case, the city appeared to me to be very clean and, in fact, sort of reminded me of San Francisco without the view or color! Ousama and Dania both do not care of the city. Am not sure about Dania, but he just feels that it's too desert-like without much green anywhere. Be that as it may, we checked into renting a car, were told it would take a couple of hours to organize and all three of us hopped into another taxi headed toward one of the restaurants Dania knows in Amman. (She's been down there several times in her effort to obtain the Jordanian government's permission to interview Sajida Mubarak.

Amazingly enough, upon arrival at the restaurant (that could have passed for a place in Carmel, CA!)we ran into one of Dania's friends from Damascus, Nick the Brit, who had recently moved to Amman for a "different Arabic learning experience." He joined us as we passed the time eating very typical American food to include a salad that we had been avoiding (or at least I had!) in Syria in order NOT to need the Cipro tablets we both had......

Fully nourished and, at least Dania, caught up on social things with Nick, we picked up the car just as it was becoming dark and headed out on the Amman freeway system. Somehow or other, we actually managed to follow most of the directions toward the Petra Highway. We stopped for gas once, which Shin kindly picked up, and kept driving and driving well into the evening. We had THOUGHT it would take us about 3 hours and that we'd arrive by 8 p.m. But, of course, the mileage didn't take into account the last portion's curves. To entertain ourselves, Dania and I started singing Christmas songs. It was, after all, the day before Christmas eve! The one song that hung us up was The Twelve Days of Christmas because we couldn't remember some of the last numbers items. So, for the record and just in case Dania ever reads this, here you go (with a little religious history thrown in):

1 True Love refers to God
2 Turtle Doves refers to the Old and New Testaments
3 French Hens refers to Faith, Hope and Charity, the Theological Virtues
4 Calling Birds refers to the Four Gospels and/or the Four Evangelists
5 Golden Rings refers to the first Five Books of the Old Testament, the "Pentateuch", which gives the history of man's fall from grace.
6 Geese A-laying refers to the six days of creation
7 Swans A-swimming refers to the seven gifts of the Holy Spirit, the seven sacraments
8 Maids A-milking refers to the eight beatitudes
9 Ladies Dancing refers to the nine Fruits of the Holy Spirit
10 Lords A-leaping refers to the ten commandments
11 Pipers Piping refers to the eleven faithful apostles
12 Drummers Drumming refers to the twelve points of doctrine in the Apostle's Creed

The singing did keep us awake, but it was Shin's clapping at the end of each song and his comment about the 12 Days (that it reminded him of his youth when he enjoyed watching The Sound of Music) that really provided the entertainment!!!

Finally, we arrived at what even at night time we could tell was interesting geography. In coming to Petra, one leaves the main highway and drives down a relatively steep road into the village that has grown up outside the entrance to this AMAZING wonder of nature. Shin had been doing his homework and had decided on a "middle of the road" hotel. I figured we'd do the same since all we really needed was a good night's sleep before hitting Petra. Suffice it to say, the joint was not exactly right for the two of us. So, we hightailed it up the hill a bit and found something not quite so close to the entrance, but much warmer and cleaner.

OK, you know that book, The X # of Places You Have to See Before You Die, right? Well, Petra HAS to be on this list. It is UNBELIEVABLE!!!! Evidence suggests that settlements had begun around Petra in the Eighteenth Dynasty of Egypt. Whoever the original tribe was to settle at Petra, it is the Nabataeans, an Aramaic-speaking Semitic tribe, that settled in the area, developed it as a caravan center,and are responsible for the carved sandstone architecture. It is not known how far back the Nabataean settlement goes, but it does not go back farther than the 6th century BC. According to Arab tradition, Petra is the spot where Moses struck a rock with his staff and water came out, and where Moses' brother, Aaron, is buried, at Mount Hor, known today as Jabal Haroun.

I'm going to provide a link to a Flickr posting I've made of my Petra photos that sort of do the place justice. Everyone always thinks of Petra based on the one photo of The Treasury , but BOY is there much, much more to see!!!! Of course, I was up and down toward the entrance right when it opened at 8 a.m. However, since Dania had already been to Petra this past summer, she slept in and told me she'd join me at The Treasury at 10:30. I walked, and walked and walked and my mouth was wide open almost the entire time that morning!

I think all you need to do is to go Flickr and find akkadfish in order to see what I've posted so far.

I would be remiss if I did not come full circle with the Shin story. As Dania and I were walking that afternoon and exploring what lies beyond (well beyond...) the Treasury, she kept wondering where Shin was. And, wouldn't you know, at our very last stop - the UNBELIEVABLE Monastery - who do we see but Shin! He saw us and amazingly enough started running toward us! Of course, so did Dania who met him halfway with a big hug! He then came to me and modestly we shook hands! He took photos of us on his cell phone and Dania took photos of me with him and I took photos of her with him. Unfortunately, they're all on her camera. So, Dania, if you're reading this, post Shin's photos as proof of our Japanese/Jordanian adventure!

Our goal on Christmas eve was to drive to Wadi Rum, see the sunset and then drive on to Aqaba for the evening. In order to do that, we really moved it up to the Monastery via donkey and then some major huffing and puffing and then hiked all the way back to the Treasury and realized there was no way we could walk through the Siq and to the car! So, Dania hailed a horse-driven carriage, negotiated a fair fee to get us to the entrance to Petra and we sank down into what felt like the most comfortable seats ever!

What a day!

Day 3

Once again, I woke way too early for Dania! The regular cycle in Syria seems to be up and at work by 10-11, lunch at 3-4, and dinner WAY late and bedtime even later. Of course, the traffic is so loud that sleeping really cannot happen until 1 or so in the morning. But, when you're old, your body flows on its own accord, right?

We managed a walk up the hill once again to the local souq and found Dania's favorite foul restaurant. If you've never had fava beans, this is the ONLY way to try them, foul (pronounced "fool") madamas. It's an Egyptian dish that Arabs eat at breakfast time and that can last a human being ALL day long! It's normally a combo of warmed fava beans, onions, garlic, lemon juice , olive oil, parley and tomatoes served sort of like a soupy stew in a bowl with Arabic bread.

So, the "restaurant" we walked into consisted of 3 tables, maybe 5 chairs, and the kitchen to one side. It looked like a family operation with the father putting everything together, the older son directing the younger son with the cleaning and serving. Dania has been in this fine establishment many times, so she's kind of a regular. But, you'd never know it by the recalcitrant chef who sort of mumbled in asking if we wanted just foul or the heavier version whose name I cannot remember. Of course, he apparently also asked if we wanted tea to which Dania nodded yes and whispered to me that we were getting extra special service! The food arrived, along with a plate of pickles and two loaves of bread and NO napkin. The bread's the napkin sort of.....and then you wash up at the kitchen sink after the tea. They kept looking at me as the "newbie" and I kept watching the food preparation and clean up routine. As we paid and prepared to leave, Dania and the chef had a brief conversation to explain that I'm her "umi" visiting from the U.S. and that her "baba" is from Aleppo. I thanked him for his tasty foul (it was really good) and told him that it was much better than what my husband ever made, something that I think made him feel good, given the fact that there's a major rivalry between Cham (Damascus) and Haleb (Aleppo) people.

If I haven't completely forgotten when we did what we did, that afternoon, we walked all the way to Dima's house that is in the Mezze area of the city. It really wasn't that far, but I guess the traffic made it seem forever. As we neared her home, we stopped at a high point of the city where we could overlook a great deal of Damascus and then headed down hill toward the main road and her house. At one point, Dania stopped to take some photos of the fountains that are part of the landscaping of the stairway that provides easy access down below. Almost immediately, we were stopped by a non-uniformed man who said that she could not take any photos. Dania immediately knew why he was concerned (her position in taking the photo was almost in the same direction - but down - from the presidential "palace," which she knew was definitely off limits for pictures). She showed him all the photos she had taken and he seemed fine at that point. Thank heavens for digital cameras! We thought it was pretty remarkable how he just sort of came out of nowhere the very moment she'd snapped the camera! Dima later informed us that some dignitary was arriving and there were special guards posted throughout the area......She should know, given the fact that he father-in-law is the former Minister of Defense and her husband has some military job, both realities necessitating armed guards at their house and disposal at all times.

We had a nice lunch and visit with Dima (who had retrieved all her web orders earlier), her husband Ali, their daughter whose only name I remember is Dania's nickname, Tito, and their son, who's so young he didn't make much of an appearance and whose name I never saw written so cannot remember. Dima has just finished an online masters program at the University of Manchester in what I think is something to do with the hospitality industry. Her thesis is focused on expanding Syria's tourist industry, a topic that certainly has a lot of potential in Syria if and when there's some kind of settlement with Israel. We headed home, this time by taxi, and had an early evening.

It was on the way home that we saw the first Syrian protest for the Gaza incursion:



The man's poster reads, "BREAK YOUR SILENCE"

A sober end to day 3 in Damascus!

Day 2

With a good night's sleep, I was up and ready to go well before Dania's Arabic-style inner clock wanted to even think about.....So, I checked out what channels she has on the TV - far more than we have with our basic cable. She says she tends to watch the BBC, CNN International, Aljezeera English, and the Lebanese channel that has lots of close-to-current US stuff dubbed into Arabic. I then wandered into the kitchen and tried my hand at lighting the stove to heat some water for coffee. I scrounged around for breakfast and made do with a grapefruit, and coffee.

Finally, Sheharazad woke up and we decided to continue wandering around Damascus so that I could finally acclimate. We walked in her souq which is just up the hill a few blocks from her house and visited the local bread maker:


Then we wandered around the souq some more just sort of checking out each vendor: one place sold household goods; another detergents/soaps, etc; another sold children clothes; others specialized in specific kinds of vegetables or fruits. My favorite was the olive guy at the bend in the road:We then found the mosque for the neighborhood, entered once we'd covered our heads and taken our shoes off, and wandered around, only to realize we had no idea where to go and what was kosher - so to speak..... I think like Ousama who's always been reticent to enter churches, I've always been uncomfortable entering a mosque simply because I wasn't sure what was proper.

So with that excitement out of the way, we headed toward city, first of all, to have some breakfast at Dania's favorite western style coffee shop, Sale Sucre. Their latte would do Starbucks justice and put me in the right frame of mind to tackle BMI for that return ticket at their office farther into the city. Once accomplished, we went over to the Handicraft Souq close by that has been set up to surround a mosque.


There were some interesting shops that we explored, but I wasn't ready yet to purchase anything to bring home.

Then we headed out to explore the Hejaz Railway Station. It's too bad Ousama didn't have this option when he went to Mecca two years ago. It would have much easier for him to have traveled by rail from Damascus than take all those planes!

After exploring the building, it began to drizzle a bit and our stomachs began to rumble. So, we headed toward the Souq El-Hamidiyeh where we'd been the day before, found a restaurant, had some good lentil soup and something warm to drink, and realized as we left that it was getting late. That's the problem in being a tourist in the winter when the sun sets so early! Fortunately, we had just enough time to explore the Jewish quarter that's totally abandoned now except for a few industrious artists who've decided to make it the SoHo of Damascus.

We still had enough time to explore the Christian quarter and find the Church of St. Ananais, the man whom God called upon to find a man name Saul on the Street called Straight in Damascus. As you may remember, Ananais was successful, found the blind Saul, healed him, and helped him convert to Christianity. Paul then stayed with Ananais for a time until the Romans got wind of his being there. It was once again Ananais who helped Paul leave the city when he lowered Paul in a basket over the city wall so that he could flee. To reach the church we had to descend a flight or two of stairs to what apparently was the cellar of Ananais' house with areas that are claimed to be original Roman bricks! It all looked pretty authentic to me:

As we were walking in the Christian quarter, look what we saw that surprised me so much:


We were not able to enter the other church that led to where Ananias had helped Paul over the wall; however, Zuhair had actually driven us by that part of the exterior wall 10 years ago. So, we called it quits for the evening and headed to the local store to stock up on wine for a dinner party that Julian and his roommates were having that night. Dania had filled me in on the alcohol realities of Damascus: if you want something bottled and drinkable, you head to the Christian quarter. She had bought a bottle of red wine somewhere else, brought it home and sampled it (and had it around when I arrived). Let's just say that the literal translation on the label sums it up: RED WINE SWEET. Apparently, it's made in Syria. So, the key is to find Lebanese wines, which we did.

The dinner party was pretty amazing. Julian has, I think, 3 other roommates: Haidar, an Iraqi who lived in Iran for most of his childhood and fled from Iraq when we invaded; Bridgette who is an American freelance photojournalist who, at 26, has already been to some pretty far-out places; John, a US Iraqi vet who's in Damascus to learn Arabic, and a British guy whose name I forgot! There were so many other people there anyway that it's all a jumble. The wine went down well with the chicken dish that Julian and Haidar had worked on all afternoon. We all ended the evening by walking to the Journalist's Club that's about 2 blocks down the hill from Dania's apartment. I only mention this place now, because it has a key role in a funny future event......

Day 1

The next day, my first back in Damascus since 1999, we kowtowed to Leila who happened to be in town doing some banking business. Dania lived at Leila's apartment shortly after her first two weeks at Zuhair and Alia's home. It's very close to Dania's present apartment - about a 7 minute walk up and down hills. After a bit of small talk and showing me around her place (and asking that we remove a decomposing cat that had appeared in the entrance way DAYS ago), Leila insisted that we accompany her on her rounds. Knowing her better than I do, Dania consented to one task (a meeting with her banker at a hotel bar??!!....), but said we had things we had to do also. We hopped a cab, went into the downtown area of the city, schmoozed with the banker just long enough to satisfy Leila and headed out for a quick pickup kind of lunch with Dania's new friend, Julian, who also lives in the same neighborhood.

We grabbed a falafel at a nearby hole in the wall and headed out toward the airport to the Tishereen War Panorama (http://cencio4.wordpress.com/2008/11/24/tishreen-war-panorama-museum/). Built to celebrate both the Six Days War in 1967 and the Yom Kippur War that took place in 1973, it's a pretty imposing round domed building that contains a very large, revolving mural display on its second floor that commemorates the battle Syria fought against Israel when, while it lost the Golan Heights in 1967, it did win one particular battle for a watchtower at Kuneitra. One of the most interesting facts about the whole thing is that it was funded by North Korean money! After we had a guided tour of both floors (the first floor has smaller murals of significant events in Syrian history, plus books and photographs of Hafez Al-Assad's presidency), we headed out for an additional guided tour of the war memorabilia on either side of the building. One side displays tanks, MIGs and other Russian-made military "stuff." The other side has remains of US-made military pieces recovered in Lebanon. I tried to find the words "made in the USA" somewhere, but most seemed to have been repainted. My lasting impression of the entire experience was surprise at how rushed our guide made us feel especially when we were outside. He allotted us only a few minutes to inspect both areas of military booty. I've never been to a museum before where I was urged to leave! What follows are photos from both sides of the exterior of the museum.



Once we were told it was time to leave the museum (!), we hopped in a taxi that took us back to the Old City. Julian and we parted ways, and Dania and I headed out just to explore parts of the Christian section and then on to Straight Street (as named by the Romans, ). We saw some interesting sites:


I thought the detail here was amazing!




Mosque in Old City



A very crooked house just down block from above mosque






If you could blow this up a bit, you'd see these are artfully placed slices of tomatoes, cucumbers and pickles. Can you imagine how long it took someone to place each one of them??!!


After walking the Old City, I thought we'd be done for the day, given the fact that I was not on any one particular time zone yet. But, no, we headed home just long enough to look longingly at the bed, wash up and meet Julian and eventually Leila at the Orient restaurant within walking distance of the apartment.

It's a big place where people come to eat, drink (juices, sodas, coffee and tea) and play cards or backgammon. It apparently is a hot spot in the summer when the roof comes off....The culinary highlight of the evening was the Aleppo cherry beef kabob (Kabab ma' Karaz, http://www.ksontheweb.com/ift/articles/article.ift?artid=8383&cat_id=23&adult=0) AND a drink that seems to be very popular in Damascus called Polo. It's a really refreshing mixture of lemon (or maybe lemonade) and finely ground mint leaves. It's a beautiful color and has a really great taste, probably even more so in the hot summer.
The familial highlight of the evening revolved around Leila who was in high form! She had lots of stories to recount about her experiences with Muammar Khadafi.....something to do with his many visits to Damascus, purchasing a home there as a front for meeting his paramours and who knows what else! Anyway, it's always fun to see her in a good mood. She rushed in late to dinner saying that she could only stay a few minutes and couldn't eat because she was catching the 11:30 train back to Aleppo, then eyed the Polo and ordered one, and later decided a bite to eat was in order. Thinking she really needed to keep track of time, I kept eyeing my watch and letting her know as we grew closer to the time to head out. Forty-five minutes before the train was supposed to head out,she finally agreed with Dania that having a narghila was a good way to end the evening! Her sense of time and mine certainly aren't the same; but it didn't matter because, all in all, she had great, funny stories to tell. When she did depart, she took Dania to the side and whispered something in her ear. After Leila had left, Dania announced that Leila had seen Julian and her holding hands under the table, an observation that required her to inform her niece that, "You touch him again and you die!"

All in all, an interesting evening!

Where to start?

So, to begin this new portion of the blog, I have to describe all the preparations that went into my trip to Syria. Dania had been in Syria since May and had only planned on being there through the end of October. However, as time grew short, she realized that she just wasn't quite ready to come home or make big decisions about her next move. Given the state of the economy, it certainly made sense for her just to stay, continue learning Arabic, do some freelance writing in Damascus, and pursue that one big interview in Amman.

Of course, traveling to Syria in May and planning only to stay into the fall called for summer clothes. By the end of October, Dania was feeling slightly chilly. By the end of November, she was COLD. So, my goal was to bring wool clothes and a winter coat so that she could survive December, January and February when it really does get cold and sometimes even snows!

Once she knew that I was coming, the list of items to bring expanded to include US toothpaste, dental floss, and many other drugstore type things. Then, her cousin Dima, with whom Dania had lived for the past month or so, learned of my trip. Sure, why not bring some things she would order online, right? It was the least I could do. But then the packages kept arriving and the weight of my suitcases grew and grew. I knew that European airlines only allowed one checked-in bag at only 40-some odd pounds. Plus, I was told that, upon arriving at Heathrow, I'd be required to pick up my baggage, go through customs and re-check on the next leg of my trip. Well, it got to a point where I rationalized that a little extra baggage charge was OK; but it kept niggling at the back of my mind that it would be hard to lug all the stuff from one terminal to another. Anyway, I kept packing and weighing the bags as the boxes arrived and as Dania's list grew; and finally the day of departure arrived.

The smartest move I made as I arrived at the airport was to agree with the Virgin Atlantic woman who suggested that I upgrade to what she called business class. Once I was assured that my checked bag would actually be transported to the other airline, I thought, well it saves me all that hassle of lugging it all over Heathrow, it'll be a far more comfortable 10 hours in a more spacious seat, and the cost of upgrading pretty much equaled what I figured I'd be forced to pay for the weight overage. So, I boarded the plane and immediately started my Christmas holiday with glass after glass of champagne that was provided to all us "Premium Economy" customers. I hadn't flown long distances in so many years that I was totally unprepared for the fancy TV and game gadgets that were part of my seat. It took me almost the entire flight to figure out how to play backgammon!!! Anyway, it was a very pleasant, but LONG flight, and I was totally prepared for my 5 hour wait at Heathrow for the flight to Damascus.

After having checked in to BMI (an airline that I do NOT ever recommend to anyone!), I wandered around some of the duty-free shops, used the pounds Dania had left from when she had been in England 10 years ago(!) to buy food, and even found an area of about 8 computers that were available to use w/o charge. I don't know why I did what I did, but I logged onto my return itinerary to discover that the return leg from Damascus to London seemed to have disappeared from when I had checked it before leaving home. Of course, by the time I discovered that, it was too late to go back to the other terminal to figure out what had happened. But that information was definitely at the back of my mind from that moment on. It was great, though, to have logged on to my Gmail account and find Dania at the other end for a little chat. She assured me that she'd be at the Damascus airport that evening with bells on!

So, my flight was finally called and I was curious to see the kinds of people boarding with me. Most were obviously Syrians returning home, but there were quite a few European-looking couples who seemed to be headed out on an adventure, just like me! My complaint about BMI revolves only around their cancellation of that leg of my flight home. The service aboard was lovely (as the British might say!). I happened to sit right next to a young Syrian who is in medical school in Boston and was returning home for a visit. After we talked for a while, he asked my last name as I did his. His name meant nothing to me; however, mine made him very excited - not because of Moustapha, but because he grew up with Dima in Aleppo! He kept telling me how much fun she was/is....small world. (When I mentioned his name to her, she recognized the family name, but was surprised at his effusiveness about her. He's much, much younger. But I guess Dima has a reputation as a busy, popular Aleppan!)

BMI, just like Virgin, was right on time when we arrived at 11 p.m. at the Damascus airport. Unfortunately for all concerned, particularly Dania and the two drivers Dima had sent for me, it took 2 hours to clear customs and wait for the bags to come off the plane. Each time more were loaded onto the conveyor belt and mine weren't there, I kept asking myself why I had gambled in San Francisco. But, it was the time of year for miracles and eventually both of them appeared! I loaded them on my carrier and headed with everyone else to what I hoped was the tail end of this part of my trip. Lo and behold, right after I made a turn to the right, who should I see but a smiling Dania with an incredibly LARGE bouquet of flowers for me! She introduced the two men whom Dima had "assigned" to make the airport run with Dania and we headed for the car and our drive into the city

Even though it was close to 1 a.m. at that point, there were many, many cars on the road. We passed the largest restaurant in the world (http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/middle_east/7435424.stm/)that seemed still to be very busy! After about 35 minutes, we finally made it to Dania's neighborhood, Afif. She's still not sure what street she lives on; but she knows Afif and the fact that the French Embassy is right across the street. I didn't realize until this visit that Damascus is sort of like Carmel-by-the-Sea: neither has street addresses. It appears as though the Damascenes really don't bother too much with street names; people (mainly the poor taxi drivers) just go by major landmarks (ergo the French Embassy).

It was great to enter Dania's apartment, a place we were able to help her with, thanks to friends here who happen to have it become vacant just when Dania was ready to live on her own. It's on the third floor of the building, with a doctor's office inside on the ground floor and a very nice juice man down in front on the unnamed street. Each day we'd pass him, he'd say hello, and I'd be amazed that the net bags of oranges, lemons and whatever he'd placed up in trees were still hanging where he'd put them the night before! Anyway, we trudged upstairs with the luggage, thanked our drivers, and Dania immediately turned on the lights to her Christmas tree!
She has a seven room apartment: 2 bedrooms, a living room (where the tree was/apparently still is), an adjoining dining room; another adjoining TV room; a nice size kitchen and a western style bathroom with the HOTTEST water you could ever imagine coming out the faucets! The floors are marble and the walls are high with very ornate decorations. Each room was already furnished with pretty elaborate couches, tables, wardrobes, whatever she'd need. The apartment also has two balconies, the one off her bedroom has a washing machine and clothesline for drying. I'm going to place some photos here of her apartment.

Kitchen; Bathroom; Dania in bed; Living room/TV

I think she's very happy with it particularly in comparison to where some of her friends live. She has a German roommate, Helene, who is determined to master Arabic as her 4th language! She's a very lively young woman who dates a UN peacekeeper from Australia and is rarely at home. She had already left for Germany by the time I arrived, but came back for the new year's celebration. So, I had first-hand proof that she's a fun-loving, slightly crazy person! Dania's lucky to have met her in the first Arabic class they both took at the University of Damascus.

Anyway, the trip had started and it was good finally to fall asleep in Damascus, well after all the traffic noise had stopped for that night, December 19th!

BY THE WAY, I DON'T SEEM TO BE ABLE TO FIGURE OUT WHY SOME LINKS ARE HIGHLIGHTED IN BLUE AND OTHERS ARE JUST UNDERLINED IN THE SAME TAN COLOR AS THE REST OF THE TEXT. SO, WHENEVER YOU SEE EITHER BLUE OR UNDERLINED WORDS, PLEASE CONSIDER THEM LINKS TO SOMEWHERE ELSE.