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.