final reflections

Rain in Damascus. Is it the city's way of saying goodbye to me? I doubt it, though the few drops were a refreshing break from the dry heat (100 F, and I still feel at times that I need to wear a scarf, jeans, and cardigan for modesty). I hate packing and saying goodbye. It's one of my least favorite things to do. Maybe I should be used to it, growing up in a military lifestyle, but I don't think the heart ever gets used to leaving or being left by loved ones.

Yesterday Nora and Karim (Am Anas's daughter and grandson - grandson one and a half years) visited the house to say goodbye. I enjoyed sitting outside with everyone, sipping tea first, followed by Arabic coffee. Nora was telling me stories about her pregnancies and family names - apparently one of her great grandmothers is named Sea, because her mother gave birth to her while on a boat. It was hard to say masalaama to them both. While I was hugging Nora goodbye, Karim lifted his arms up to me for a hug, which was really sweet. He's never hugged me as I left before.

Today after checking my grade at university (I passed! Ahumdu Allah!), I walked to Souq Al-Hamidiyyah. Running low on Syrian money at the end of my travels in this country, I bought some sweets and pretended to be a tourist, walking through the spice souq and behind the Omayyad Mosque. Some things I felt uncomfortable taking pictures of, such as the young boy (maybe 10 years) selling sweets on the street, alone, or the beggar with an outstretched arm and cane, or the group of Iranian women, with their long cloth that covers their heads and reaches the floor. I'll have to leave it as a memory.

Hmm. It's hard to come up with overarching reflections from my home for the past four months. It doesn't feel like I'm really leaving yet, so maybe ask me once I return to the states. I also have some stories and thoughts I'm not able to express here. Overall though, Syria has been great. There have definitely been some frustrating moments, but on the whole, Syrian people are really welcoming and friendly. Being totally immersed in a foreign culture is challenging, but every bit worth it.

"Just keep on moving, it's such a wondrous world out there." - Johannes Stakowski

Ela aqa, ya Syria. Masalaama.

Fatoush and the Druze

This past weekend I've spent a lot of time at home. I know I've said it before, but my host family is really really great. They have good advice, make fun of each other, and for the most part, we all have a good time.

Am Anas has started showing me how to cook Syrian food. I made fatoush with her in the kitchen twice this weekend, and the big test is when I went to Max's and we made it together... I think I passed. Our fatoush tasted almost as good as Am Anas's (she has the best in the country). So in case you're interested... fatoush is a delicious salad. Ingredients: romaine lettuce, mint leaves, special leaves you can only get in Syria (Am Anas says without them, its not fatoush, though I think I'll let that slide in the states), tomatoes, cucumbers, onions, ground mint leaves, olive oil, apple vinegar, salt, and fried pita bread. Just add everything together in the right quantities (to your taste) and voila! Delicious fatoush. Regular Syrian salad is pretty much the same, except you use lemon juice instead of apple vinegar and no fried pita. Don't worry, I think I'll be making a lot of fatoush once I return.

Wednesday night, Max and I joined Astrid in Jaramana - a neighborhood somewhat on the edge of Damascus where most of the inhabitants are Druze. Astrid lives with a Druze family in Jaramana, and it was my first time visiting the neighborhood. It feels like its own city. The streets are lined with little shops, and life carries on in its normal (dis)organized fashion. I'm still trying to understand the nuances of the Druze, but to sum up what little I know, it's a sect, or denomination of Islam, though unlike other muslims, the Druze are allowed to drink alcohol, and women do not wear the hijab (though some traditionally wear a thin scarf loosely around their heads). The religion is closed, meaning no one can convert to or from Druze. You also must marry within the religion. Druze believe in reincarnation. Men are reincarnated as other men, and women as women. I don't know much else other than that. I believe even within the Druze, there are heirarchies of people who know certain amounts of information regarding the religion.

I'm sadly approaching my last week in Damascus. I'm trying to organize the days - must go to the hamam one last time, buy last minute presents, see what I haven't of the city, etc etc. But as I've come to know so well, you can never fully organize your life in the Middle East, because, in shah Allah, plans easily change, things take longer than expected, and you are constantly reminded to just sit back and enjoy the Arab pace of life.

reflections

Despite having a ridiculously hard midterm this morning, today has been a beautiful day. After eating a falafel sandwich, taking a shower, hand-washing some clothes and hanging them outside to dry, I left my house and took a service bus to the old city. I can't believe I only have two weeks left here. Time has run down so quickly. Today I realized how many things I'm really going to miss:

- Walking down a street lined with baskets of dates, vegetables, and fruits, with men yelling out different prices.
- Walking through Souq Al-Hamidiyyah and falling behind a tour group of Iranian pilgrimers heading to the Ommayad Mosque.
- الله هو أكبر... God, He is the greatest... the opening to each call to prayer. I love hearing the call to prayer echo throughout the city.
- Men in small trucks slowly driving down my street, yelling their goods through a loudspeaker (selling vegetables from the back of their truck).
- food! falafel, hummus, fatoush, fooul, kibeh, labneh, tabouleh, tea, arabic coffee...
- My Syrian family.
- Running late to class and finding a horse right outside my house, in the middle of the city.
- dare I say, I'll miss the crazy driving. and service buses. They're amazing.
- Getting lost in a foreign language, and feeling accomplished when able to carry on a conversation.
- Fresh mango or orange or lemon with mint or strawberry juice.
- Narrow alleyways and old windows/doors.
- Elissa blasting out of car windows (don't worry, I have her latest CD now...)
- The ease of traveling between countries.
- عنده بيت!! He has a house!! (with a woman in a wedding dress dragging a man along) This billboard is the perfect encapsulation of a growing societal problem... men must have a house before they get married. With the influx of Iraqi refugees (and Iraqis with money), the housing market has gone up quite a bit, and many young men can't afford to buy homes, which is damaging their marriage prospects.

In the old city, I sat inside the Ommayad Mosque for awhile. Just me and my sketchbook and pen. It was really nice. I then met Astrid, and together we shopped for gifts and different things to bring home (which included many scarves, a mate cup and straw, and a hand-held mini vacuum cleaner-like thing).

Tomorrow will be another beautiful day, in shah Allah.

Maalula and Mar Musa

So now that my mom has updated my blog through the rest of her trip, I can write about my travels from this past weekend.

Thursday I gave a thirty minute presentation in class on Uganda and Invisible Children. I think it went pretty well. Right after class Max, Astrid, and I headed to the bus station to take a service bus to Maalula. We actually had to take two taxis to get there, because the first taxi dropped us off at the wrong station. Our second taxi driver was really interesting. He talked to us a lot about American politics (its always about our politics, never their own), and his opinion on Iran. He had a really open mind and spoke really clearly in fusha. It was a good ride.

The service bus dropped us off in front of one convent in Maalula. After walking around the convent, visiting St. Takla's shrine and the holy church, we walked through a canyon up to another church, which had a great view of the city. Maalula is an interesting Syrian town. Nuzzled up against several mountains, most of the population is Christian (from a local's estimate, about 85% Christian). On our way between two mountains, we saw several caves carved high into the rocky mountain wall with handmade wooden ladders leading up to the entrances. Maalula is also one of the few places in the world where Aramaic is still spoken. We had a private driver drive us from Maalula to Mar Musa, and we enjoyed listening to him sing in Aramaic.

We arrived at Mar Musa around 6pm, as the sun was slowly setting behind the mountains. Thankfully we still had about an hour left of sunlight, because our driver dropped us off at the bottom of the mountain and we hiked up the narrow pathway to the monastery on the edge of the mountain. Supposedly the monastery is from the sixth century AD, and an Italian man happened upon the old building back in the 80s while he was out hiking in the desert. We were immediately welcomed into the monastery by Youssef, and Astrid and I were shown our room for the night (the girls had a big room with bunk beds while the boys slept in nearby caves). Shortly after we arrived, two bells were rung, and there was an hour of silence. We went into the church and listened as some people prayed and sang songs (not silent, but worshiping the Lord). The hour of silence was followed by a traditional Catholic church service. After the service (around 9:30pm) everyone helped in setting the tables for dinner. We met some really interesting people, who were all spending at least the night at the monastery - three Bulgarians who had driven to Syria from Bulgaria, a Brazilian filmmaker working on a documentary about his great-grandfather in Syria, a couple - Irish husband and British/Palestinian wife - who were also filmmakers working on a documentary starring one of the priests, and several other guests. We went to bed shortly after dinner (though we admired the gorgeous night sky before - so many stars shining clearly in the absence of light pollution... night in the desert is comforting in its solitude and peace).

The next morning, we woke up and went downstairs to find many tourists visiting the monastery for a couple of hours. We helped prepare tea, which we shared with the visitors. Breakfast was enjoyed on a wooden platform (the walls were blankets sewn together) covered in carpets and pillows. After breakfast, everyone helped clean dishes, and Astrid and I helped chop vegetables for a later meal. Max, Astrid and I returned to Damascus in an empty service bus with Father Peter, one of the Syrian priests at the monastery (he's lived at the monastery for the past fourteen years).

Mar Musa was really great. The atmosphere is really peaceful, and everyone had such beautiful hearts.

guest writer

All credit for this blog to my dear mother:

Syria, again and Beyond

My sweet daughter is falling back on her blogging because of studies and the pursuit of further adventures ~ so mom will write a quick entry ~ the audience cannot be kept waiting!

We flew out of Turkey on a Sunday, oblivious to the no-fly zone in Europe from the volcano, and arrived in Damascus late afternoon (we learned the next day that all airports in Turkey had closed). Back home, we were greeted by Am Anas and several sisters and a sumptuous dinner around the table. Afterwards, everyone left for a cousin’s engagement party so Haley and I departed for the souq. A warren of colorful covered streets and alleyways, the souq is the main shopping area (as in other parts of the middle east) and is usually thronged with men, women and children, with shopowners calling out to entice you to their shops. Smelling the spices and the hints of incense and perfume completely whisked away all place and time ~ I had smelled this before in both Bahrain and Morocco.

The next few days were spent with Haley showing me her temporary home city. She went to university in the morning, and I tagged along, happily reading and journaling on a comfy hallway sofa while she was in class. On the first day I was invited into the classroom during the second hour to observe ~ I felt like a deer caught in the headlights! I understood that the class was conjugating verbs ~ but that’s all obviously. Eventually I started copying some of the Arabic script in my journal and quite enjoyed the artistic feel of both writing right to left, and also the curvy flowing script. Once the break came, I showed the teacher, through Haley’s interpretation, that I wrote some words down but that it probably looked like a child’s writing ~ she actually told me that it looked quite nice and she could read it ~ although I’m sure she wasn’t completely truthful.

After school one day, Haley and her friend Astrid took me to a hammam or bath. We entered off a non-descript ancient street, going first behind a heavy curtain and then pushing past a carved thick wooden door. Suffice it to say that we have never felt cleaner or more refreshed after the hammam.

We ate from street vendors a lot ~ it’s inexpensive and convenient to carry the food as one walks. One day we bought flat bread that had been grilled with a bit of oil and zatar ~ an oregano mixture with sesame seeds ~ yum. We ate a vanilla ice cream cone that had been rolled in a pistachio/almond mix ~ we consumed baklava type pastries, dripping with sweet syrup and we drank freshly squeezed orange juice and loads of sweet tea, always hot. Haley’s family fed us at every opportunity too. We tried to pace ourselves so that we once home we could happily accept their hospitality in food. We ate hummus and olives and fatoush and some kind of warm dish with chick peas and pine nuts and eaten as if a thick soup.

On the afternoon of the third day in Syria with another friend of Haley’s in tow, we headed to Lebanon ~ via the bus station, and a passenger van, with much price negotiation. Three and a half hours later, we were in Beirut. Signs throughout the city are in both French and Arabic, thus this city was called Beyrouth, Liban. Our friend Melanie was ecstatic when she saw all the dual language signs – she is a Parisian and felt like she was home! Beirut itself is like paradise and one can understand why many from the middle east choose to vacation here. Of course despite the resiliency of its people to rebuilt, there are still evidences of the country’s 15 years of civil war (1975-1991), with bombed out skeleton buildings still standing tall as if in memoriam. Two full days here wandering around the city which certainly feels very European and enjoying the food, weather and company. It was a perfect end to a trip.

I put Haley and Melanie in a taxi to begin their journey back to Damascus on a Friday evening. It was difficult to say goodbye ~ my tears betrayed me ~ I didn’t want the girls to leave but I knew they had to ~ at this point they were at the mercy of strangers to insure their safe passage home. I worried until I received the news next morning that they had arrived around midnight. My journey home would be easy and enjoyable, and I met many extraordinary people along the way. Sometimes one of the highlights of any trip is going home, and that’s very comforting.

Istanbul

After just returning from Beirut, my visit to Istanbul seems like a while ago, but it was such a great city, it warrants a post. After finishing the exam for level four, I headed to the airport for a quick two hour flight to Ataturk Airport (Ataturk is everywhere in Turkey, though his picture doesn't frequent public spaces quite as much as the Syrian president). My mom was waiting for me at our hotel when I arrived that night. Our hotel was in the perfect location. We were right behind the Blue Mosque, and could see the Marmara Sea and the Black Sea Strait from both windows.

We stayed in Istanbul for five days, and I really enjoyed just walking around the city with my mom. We visited several amazing mosques (the Blue Mosque, the New Mosque, another smaller mosque behind the Spice Market, and the exterior of Suleiman the Magnificent's mosque [the actual mosque was undergoing major restorations]). We also visited the Hagia Sophia, which is absolutely stunning. The dome is so large - Notre Dame could fit inside as could the Statue of Liberty, if that gives you any reference. First a church built under the instruction of Justinian, then turned mosque, and now a museum, it is really beautiful to explore. We also toured the Topkaci Palace, which was once home to the great sultans of the Ottoman empire. The harem was especially beautiful, with the walls covered in blue floral tiles. The palace has great views of the Golden Horn and the Black Sea Strait. Mom and I also did some shopping at the Grand Bazaar and the Spice Market, sampled turkish delights and baklava off the street (sometimes our only dinner), visited the new city, tried Raki (something we had to do in Turkey, but I won't drink it again... not a fan of licorice), and went to a Whirling Dervish performance.

Istanbul is a fairly western city. There were many tourists (one day we saw an international car rally taking place between the Hagia Sopia and the Blue Mosque). Though a large majority of the population is Muslim, women are not allowed to wear the hijab in public schools or if working for the government. Turkish hijabs are also very different from Syrian ones - they are brightly colored silk, for the most part. Turkish tea is also different - made from two kettles, one stacked on top of the other. The top kettle holds the strongly concentrated tea, and the bottom kettle has boiling water. Both kettles are poured into your tea cup. The ice cream is a very strange consistency - stretchy, if that makes sense. And no hair gel! Or at least not enough to notice.

Istanbul is a beautiful city with a lot to explore.

identities and gum

One of the neat things about living in a foreign country is that no one knows you, and you can adopt several different identities. Though it's hard to remain anonymous in the Middle East with blond hair and blue eyes (I roll my eyes every time I hear Syrians say "foreigner" in Arabic with their friends... I relate it to living in Coronado and us locals talking about the Zonies.), I have been given several new names. As it has been my entire educational career, the attendance sheet lists my name as Jane. I tried correcting my teacher in level 3, but Haley didn't stick, and for a month I was Jane to my classmates and teacher (thankfully I was Haley in level 4). The guy at the internet cafe I frequent says "marhaba" to Janey every day. My host sister calls me Halhoola (her nickname for me). And for about the first month, my host dad called me Helen (for some reason, Syrians have a hard time saying Haley, even though they have all of those sounds in Arabic, maybe just not in that combination). So I have learned to answer to Jane, Janey, Halhoola, Helen, and Haley (though I will forget this once I return to the states, so don't even try). As per identities, while I'm walking through the souq I try to put on Melanie's Parisian, don't mess with me, face. It actually does reduce comments and blown kisses. To wandering salesmen trying to sell me tissues or other trinkets, I use the Syrian "no" - an upward tilt of the head with a click of the tongue. Meeting for drinks in Bab Touma, I greet friends with kisses on each side of the face (a custom I've noticed everywhere except the states - why is that?). I really enjoy the diverse community at university.

Speaking of university, I took my final exam for level 4 today. Yesterday I had my interview portion, and today was the written exam. The written exam was actually fairly difficult. I wrote my essay about water pollution, the reasons why some people care about the environment while others don't, and countries exporting their productions and pollutions to third world nations (mushkila kabira). In shah Allah, I'll be in level 5 next week.

Yesterday as I was walking up the hill home, the man at the corner store waved at me and gestured me over. I bought colored pencils from him a couple of weeks ago and since then have always waved and exchanged "salaam"s (peace) whenever I pass his store. Yesterday he asked me how I was (Kefik? - How are you, Sloonik? - literally, what's your color?... my favorite Arabic phrase, Sho akbar? - what's the news? ... all of these are asked during a greeting, and then you are asked about your family, friends, relatives, etc etc. Greetings are very long in the Middle East). After replying with "I'm good!", the shopkeeper told me my Arabic has improved a lot since the last time we talked (I don't know how he could get that with just one word from me) and handed me a free pack of gum before I left his store. People are really friendly and generous here. I'm loving it.

And now, in just a couple of hours, I'll meet my mom in Istanbul for our little rahla. !! I'm really excited to see her and go exploring with her. Ela ekqa, ya Syria (until we meet again).

Pictures

and here's the website to all my picture albums: http://picasaweb.google.com/jhwright11

enjoy.

Quneitra

I visited the ghost town of Quneitra today. The city lies in the demilitarized zone between Israel and Syria and was destroyed during wars between the two countries. Here's wiki's page for a better history of the place: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Quneitra

And here are my pictures: http://picasaweb.google.com/jhwright11/Quneitra#

It was really interesting to explore the city. The complete destruction is unbelievable (and totally pointless in my opinion). Check out my pictures. They will do a better job describing the city than my words can.

Easter and Embassies

Happy Easter everyone! I went to a Catholic church for both Good Friday and Easter with my friend, Melanie. Both services were in Arabic. I was surprised that the Good Friday service was very crowded, with people standing in the aisles, whereas at Easter service there were plenty of open pews. I went to two different churches though, so that may affect this observation. The Good Friday service was very long. After a little over two hours, Melanie and I were starving (it was 8:30pm, and I had only eaten breakfast that morning). We slowly make our way out of the church (as I said before, it was very crowded) and found that it was even more crowded outside, with a big parade going down the main street (blocking our path to food). We listened to the marching band, watched the priests carry crosses and the altar boys and girls carry candles, and saw fireworks from the roof of a nearby building. After the parade had returned to the church, Melanie and I headed to Bab Touma and the old city for falafel sandwiches (Melanie wasn't eating meat for the week before Easter).

Sunday I didn't have university because of Easter (in Syria, and a good amount of the Middle East, or maybe just the Levant, Christian and Muslim holidays are national holidays). I went to church again with Melanie. This time the service was much shorter. After the service the church's marching band played in the courtyard, and then Melanie and I went to a nearby cafe and I enjoyed an American cup of coffee (I've missed it soooo much... Turkish and Arabic coffee is good, but very different). As we left the cafe, we were greeted by a parade in the middle of the street. Our first parade that day. There were flags, the church marching band, and cute little kids. Apparently each church has their own parade, because just 15 minutes later, yet another parade comes down the street, with a different marching band from a different church (sometimes when I'm in the old city for drinks on weekend nights I can hear the marching bands practicing at the churches). So that was fun to watch. Melanie hadn't eaten meat or sweets the past week, so we bought some chocolates in the souq, ate chicken schwarmas, and enjoyed freshly made strawberry juice. And we spent the day walking through the old city, sitting in the park, on stairs, on curbs, at the hijaz (four different places), people watching and talking. It was a beautiful day. When we were sitting on the stairs, a Christian family went into a nearby house. They wished us Happy Easter and asked if we wanted water or anything else. Ohhh Middle Eastern hospitality is so great.

I also have a new pick-up line/phrase to add to the list. As Melanie and I first entered the souq in the morning, one of the shopkeepers said to us, "Welcome ladies! Want to have an orgy?" in English. I'm sure he didn't know what he was saying. But that was absolutely ridiculous. I've also had a couple of men on the street ask for change, which is code for asking for sex. I don't understand why they think they can get away with that with foreigners, because they most definitely wouldn't be able to say that to Syrian women. Melanie and I were watching cute little boys riding bikes in the park, and we lamented the fact that in a couple of years, they'll turn into obnoxious macho teens/men. I just have to keep a sense of humor with all the comments, otherwise it gets to be too much.

Besides those couple of male episodes, I had a great Easter weekend. Though men say things all of the time, blow kisses, and what not, they (for the most part) won't ever try to touch me (they can get in a lot of trouble), so I do feel very safe in the city. My neighborhood is especially great and full of embassies. On my service bus ride to the President's Bridge I pass by the French, Turkish, Italian, American, Iraqi (ironically the Iraqi embassy is right across the street from the American, and the Cuban embassy is also a couple of buildings down), Serbian, Qatar, Japanese, Saudi Arabian, Libyan, and Polish embassies. All on just one short bus ride. I really like seeing all of the different nationalities. So everyone, rest assured that I am very safe in Damascus and really enjoying my time here. I have exactly one more week of class left, and then I head to Istanbul to meet my mom for a little vacation before we both return to Damascus, and I start my last Arabic class at Damascus University. My time here is going pretty quickly.

the old city and hair gel

Damascus has had beautiful weather this past week, and I'm really enjoying walking home from university everyday. Class is still going well. I love my teacher. We had our midterm two days ago, and it wasn't too bad. Two more weeks and then I have a rendezvous with my mama (I'm really excited to show you Damascus, Mom!).

Today was a beautiful day for wandering in the old city. After university I took a shower (I have to take showers in the afternoon now because the sun heats up the water... in the winter we would light the water heater, but now that it's warm out, we're saving the oil), hand-washed some clothes and hung them outside to dry, ate lunch (rice and meat rolled in grape leaves), and then packed my bag with my sketchbook and charcoals and took a service bus to the old city. I bought some mango juice behind the Omayyad Mosque, and then found a little side street, sat down, and started sketching the alley. People walking by would steal glances at my sketch before carrying on, and one man even gave me a packet of cookies. By the time I was done with my sketch, several neighborhood children surrounded me and tried to talk with me, though it was difficult for me to understand their dialect. Before I left I gave some of them charcoal pencils.

Yesterday I had to make a little visit to the immigration office... after going back and forth to the same people two or three times (each time to simply sign or stamp a different piece of paper) I finally got my residence pass (you have to get one after every time you leave and re-enter the country). Later last night I went to the theatre with some friends and had a great time watching Shakespeare's Twelfth Night performed by a group from Britain. I'm sure most of the audience couldn't understand a single word of the play. My friend, Johann, made the interesting observation that most of the audience appeared to be Christian, or at least did not wear a hijab. Tickets were quite expensive, and I don't know if that may be a factor.

On Monday I visited Zilal. I met her outside the mosque, and we walked together to her new apartment. I met all of her Turkish roommates, and we talked a little in Arabic and English. I enjoyed a delicious Turkish meal with them, with tea afterward. Side note: Turkish tea kettles have two pots, one stacked on top of the other. One of the pots has strong tea, and the other has hot water. You pour both into your tea cup.

One of Zilal's roommates asked me about the differences between Syrian and American cultures. I didn't know where to begin (everything!!). One thing: men in Syria loooove hair gel (hence the title of this post). Most men have their hair slicked back with gel. It's an interesting trend, though one that I don't quite fancy. One of my guy friends said that at the bathroom in his gym, there's no soap, but there is a large container of hair gel on the counter. On the topic of hair... there are three male barbershops on my street. They stay open really late (at least until midnight), and each time I walk by there are men getting their hair straightened, curled, cut, and gelled. It's interesting that in a culture where most women do not show their hair, men are so concerned about the appearance of theirs.

Aleppo

Before I get to Aleppo, I just want to say that I have an amazing family - both in the states and in Syria (and for anyone else reading this, I'm trying to persuade my mom in VA to visit me in Turkey and Syria, so help me sway her easterly). My family is Syria is really fun. My host sister, Judy (which is actually spelled in her passport with English letters as Djoudi, but I will continue to spell it Judy), has given me a colloquial name, as she calls it - Halhoola (kind of). I like it. I continue to french braid Judy's hair almost every night, and we all continue to watch this great Turkish TV show every night (the main character, Zowahr, just got married! finally...). The food is still delicious, and Muhajerin is a great neighborhood to live in. The guy at the internet cafe (who sees me practically every day) lent me some Arabic movies last week. Today as I was walking to this wireless internet cafe, I passed by the man who works at the little cold store, and we exchanged salaam alakom's (peace be with you). And today is a beautiful day in Damascus.

Alright, so Aleppo. Aleppo is a great city. It's in Northern Syria, somewhat close to the Turkey border. We took the midnight train from Damascus, arriving in Aleppo around 6:30am. We dropped our bags off at our hotel (with VERY pink rooms) and found some delicious breakfast (bread with stringy cheese and a dish with a sugary sauce with cinnamon and cheese). Aleppo is known for its rich food. After breakfast, we got ripped off by our taxi driver who drove us to the citadel, but mafi mushkila (no problem, a commonly heard phrase in the Middle East), the citadel was really interesting, with many ruins and great views of the city. The citadel sits on top of a green hill. After the citadel, we walked through empty souqs (everything was closed because it was Friday, the holy day) and came upon the Umayed Mosque. We paid for cloaks, took off our shoes, and walked inside. The mosque has a huge open courtyard with hallwalls and rooms for prayer. It was really peaceful, and it was fun to watch the little children running and playing in the courtyard. (I've just finished uploading pictures from Aleppo... send me an email if you'd like to see them). We then returned to our hotel for a nice afternoon nap (our sleep on the train the night before wasn't exactly the best).

I traveled to Aleppo with three friends from Arabesk. We were an interesting group. I am obviously very Caucasian, Haji is American as well, though her family comes from India, Melanie is French, though her family is from Rwanda, and Fatima is also French, though her family is from Morocco. So we were a very diverse group, and we had a lot of fun together. Haji has a friend in the states who has family in Aleppo, so we called this family to ask for suggestions of good restaurants, or fun things to do at night. The family invited us to their house for dinner. We met Mohammed in front of Aleppo's university, and he walked us to their home. It was a busy home with two parents, seven children, two of the children's husbands, and six grandchildren. The family was really really nice and welcoming and friendly. It was really fun talking with them (and the kebeh they served us was delicious! Kebeh - grilled dough with meat and liver inside). The whole time we ate dinner, drank tea, and drank soda, Mohammed was coming up with a "project" for the evening. So after dinner, Mohammed, Mohammed's friend - Hani, and Zeina (one of Mohammed's sisters - we convinced their mom to let Zeina join us, as females don't usually walk outside at night... it's not proper, and the neighbors all talk, though it was fine for Zeina because Mohammed was with us). We enjoyed some ice cream while Hani drove us to Al-Jedida (a neighborhood). We walked through narrow streets, visited a couple of churches (it was Mohammed and Zeina's first times inside a church), and shopped a little. We really had a great time together.

The next morning we enjoyed breakfast on the roof of our hotel before setting out to explore the souqs some more (this time with the hustle and bustle of an open souq). Lonely Planet describes Aleppo's souqs as the most vibrant Middle Eastern souqs, and it was really beautiful and fun to watch. We shopped some, and bought schwarmas off the street on our way to the soap factory (Aleppo is also famous for it's olive oil soaps). The factory was hidden away down a quiet street, and we had to ask for directions several times. I'm glad we eventually found it - we were shown where the soup was made, stored, and packaged. I bought some olive and mint soap before leaving. After the soap factory, we returned to our hotel, gathered our things, and took a taxi to the bus station, where we took a bus back to Damascus (about 20 minutes outside of Damascus, we started to smell a burning smell, and the bus pulled over to the side of the highway and changed one of the tires, which apparently solved the problem, mafi mushkila).

A quick note on bargaining. In the Middle East, you can bargain for practically everything: items in a store (even if there is a written price), taxi rides, bus rides... Sometimes it's fun to bat your eyelashes, take part in the culture, and tell the shop keeper that you're a poor student who doesn't have a lot of money. Other times it's really frustrating. For example: when we arrived at the bus station, we bargained from one bus company to another until we found a price we liked (eventually we got them down from 200 Syrian pounds to 110). And of course everyone charges foreigners a lot more (some restuarants even have separate foreign and local menus, with different prices on each). Bargaining is just something you have to get used to in the Middle East.

weekly recap

I've been kind of slacking on my blog, but here's a weekly recap:

Saturday (13th) - went to the hammam, and felt nice and clean after returning from Jordan.

Sunday (14th) - first day of level four class at university (pre-intermediate). My teacher is great. He's funny, really good at explaining and reviewing things, and likes to talk about Syrian culture. After university, I visited my Syrian friend, Zilal, and helped her a little with her English studies.

Monday - After university, I went to Zilal's house again, and this time spent the night with her, which was an interesting experience. When I first arrived at her house, we talked and she helped me with my Arabic homework. In the evening we visited her friends' house. There are about twelve female students living in this house, and when I first arrived, we sat in a circle in the living room with all twelve of them just staring at me. They then proceed to tell me I'm beautiful, and they asked me to write what face wash and lotion I use. I enjoyed my tea while they all talked about me in colloquial. It was interesting to visit and see how they live, though I felt pretty uncomfortable. After leaving their house, Zilal took me to a famous restaurant where we enjoyed fruit salads. These fruit salads were delicious with strawberry, kiwi, pineapple, apple, banana, ice cream, whipped cream, sweet cheese, pistachio, and chocolate sprinkles. We then returned to Zilal's home and talked about religion and culture before heading to bed.

Tuesday - I ate breakfast with Zilal before heading to university. Then university, internet cafes, lunch, and studying.

Wednesday - I woke up with an upset stomach, so did not make it to university. Am Anas took care of me, telling me I was only allowed to drink tea and eat Kake (long biscuits eaten with tea). Later in the evening Am Anas's two sisters, brother, daughter, grandson, aunt, and cousin all visited our house, and the room was loud with different conversations until everyone left around 10pm. As there isn't much privacy in the Middle East, everyone in the room knew I had been sick in the morning, and probably knew everything that had entered and left my body the entire day. I did feel well taken care of by Am Anas.

Thursday - Teacher's Holiday! No school. I met Astrid in the morning, and we walked around Damascus before parting ways and then meeting up again in the evening.

Friday - day trip to Palmyra, or the city of palms. Palmyra has an impressive amount of ruins, with a huge temple, and a long colonnaded street. I met some new students with Arabesk, and we had a great time exploring the old city.

Saturday - I met friends and we took a taxi to Jebel Quassioun (mountain) and watched the sunset over Damascus (or really, over the mountains in the west). Damascus is huge, and it was really cool to see the whole city spread out in front of us.

Sunday (today) - I went with my host dad to his cousin's house for breakfast. After breakfast, we sipped matte with special matte straws, which is really good. We then visited Mohammed's friend's house, and I had an interesting conversation about Palestine with his friend over lunch.

More Jordan: Petra, Wadi Rum, and Aqaba

As I wrote before, our first two nights in Jordan were spent in the quaint little town of Madaba. Madaba was a welcome respite from busy Damascus, and an easy day trip to the Dead Sea. Astrid and I hired a driver to take us from Madaba to Petra via the Kings Highway. On this taxi ride we met Doug, who joined us in Petra the following day. The Kings Highway takes you from green fields colored with spring flowers, past rocky mountains, through huge canyons, and by dusty deserts. We stopped for about an hour in Karak and toured an old crusader castle. The old cities of Sodom and Gomorrah were supposedly nearby, and we could see the Dead Sea in the distance. We also stopped for tea alongside the canyon, and frequently stopped for pictures.

After about a six hour car ride, we arrived in the hilly town of Wadi Musa, right next to Petra (Musa, meaning Moses... supposedly this is where Moses struck the rock from which water flowed). The next day we bought a very expensive two-day pass to Petra (only a little more than the one day pass, but if you are thinking about visiting Petra, do it now. The prices will keep rising to a ridiculous amount by this November.) and explored the old Nabatean city. Walking through the Siq (the narrow canyon with beautiful red, pink, and tan rocks) and catching the first glimpse of the treasury (the building made famous by Indiana Jones) was really amazing. The city is quite large. There were over 800 stairs to the monastery, which was even bigger than the treasury, but the "view of the end of the world" was definitely worth the hike (the Bedouin tea in the tent overlooking this view was also nice.). We decided to take a different hike out of Petra in the afternoon. (We = me, Astrid, Doug, and two students from Damascus we met along the way) This hike was a little difficult to find, but we finally came to the narrow canyon, thanks to the help of several local Bedouins. It was one of the most intense hikes I have ever been on, wading through puddles of water, pulling and pushing each other over huge boulders (and huge piles of trash). We were lucky to make it out of the canyon with ten minutes to spare before it grew dark.

That night at the hotel (with Indiana Jones playing in the background) we met some new friends from a nearby country, and decided to join them to Wadi Rum the next day. So we caught the 6:20am bus and headed to the desert made famous by Lawrence of Arabia (which is an excellent film, by the way.). We shared the back of a jeep with seven other people, and bounced through the desert. We stopped to climb a rocky mountain to see a spring and up to a natural arch, to hike through a narrow canyon and also up a sand dune, and to see old Nabatean rock carvings and Lawrence's house. The desert in Wadi Rum is gorgeous as well. Rocky mountains rise out of the sands and fade into the background. There's not a mountain change, just single, solitary rock mountains (see my pictures for a better idea).

After an afternoon in the desert, we headed south (with our new friends) to Aqaba. Aqaba is right on the Red Sea, and the next day we were able to go swimming off the coast and see some beautiful blue, purple, and white coral. From the Jordanian coast, we were less than 10km from Saudi Arabia and could see Israel and Egypt across the sea. After a nice day at the beach we took a bus up to Amman and spent the night in the country's capital before heading back to Damascus the following day.

I'm now back in Syria, safe and sound (tomorrow I start level four class at Damascus University.). Jordan is a gorgeous country, with the landscape changing from green, fertile farmlands to harsh, dry desert. We met some great people along the way and had flexible travel plans, which I loved. I highly recommend a trip to Jordan to anyone reading this.

Jordan! Madaba, Mt. Nebo, Bethany Beyond the Jordan, and the Dead Sea

(yesterday's email to my lovely parents:) I've made it to Jordan! I'm sitting at an internet cafe in Madaba, about an hour outside of Amman, the capital. We took a taxi across the border (only $10 from Damascus to Amman!) and didnt have any trouble, once we paid money both to leave Syria and then to enter Jordan. Also, they thoroughly checked the cars before we entered Jordan. And when I say thoroughly, I mean we actually drove over a guard (slowly) who patted the underside of the car. I have never seen/heard of that before. Madaba is a quaint little town. Astrid and I walked around for quite some time. We visited St. George's Church, which has the oldest map of Palestine in the world (as a mosaic on the floor of the church.) Apparently in 1979 there was a miracle at the church as well - in one of the paintings Mary's eyes started glowing, and a third hand appeared, which means Mary was saying her hand is over the church, providing for it and protecting it. Tomorrow we're going to hire a driver to take us to the Dead Sea, Mount Nebo, and Bethany (spending the night in Madaba again).

Today: Today has been a great day seeing the country. As I wrote above, Astrid and I hired a private taxi to take us around for the day. We first drove to Mt. Nebo, the place where God showed the promised land to Moses (I believe also the place Moses died?). It had amazing views of Jordan (and Israel in the distance). We could see rocky mountains with different shades of pink and tan as well as green fields and rows of olive trees.

After Mt. Nebo, we drove to Bethany Beyond the Jordan, the place where Jesus was baptized by John the Baptist. The Jordan River is quite muddy and minimal now - Israel has built a dam further upstream (which has also affected the amount of water in the Dead Sea). We walked along the river for about an hour, first stopping at the site where Jesus was baptized, then walking to the ruins of three old churches (built practically on top of one another), and finally arriving to the river itself. Astrid and I were able to put our hands in the muddy water. It was amazing to see Israel right across the water. It literally would have taken only a minute to walk across from where we were. From a nearby church (in Jordan, built in the last 10 years) we could see Jericho in the distance and could faintly make out the mountain with Jerusalem. It was hard to believe that we were so close to Israel.

Our taxi driver then took us to the Dead Sea. We arrived at Amman Beach (the most expensive part of the day) a public beach for tourists. We were able to change into bathing suits before heading down to the sea. Thankfully, there were other tourists here (though it wasn't crowded, which was nice), so we didn't feel too uncomfortable in our bathing suits. There were other women in hijabs and jeans walking in the water. Swimming in the Dead Sea was so an amazing experience. The water was gorgeous and blue, and felt oily, if that makes any sense. It is extremely salty, especially if it gets in your mouth, and when you walk out of the sea, you are coated in a chalky layer of salt. Astrid and I had a lot of fun sitting on the water. It's really amazing. You just bounce along, and can't even force yourself to sink (we tried). We were able to rinse off in the shower and pool before meeting up with our driver again.

We walked around Madaba some more once we returned this afternoon. Tomorrow it's off to Petra.

ps. I am currently listening to a song by Elissa at the internet cafe. This song is alllll over Jordan and Syria. Everyone has it for their ring tone, it plays at all the restaurants and cafes and taxis and buses and anywhere else. Look her up on youtube. I don't know the name of the song, but in typical Arabic music style, she says "habibi" A LOT. (update: Astrid is sending the youtube video to my facebook wall, so check it out.) Yay Jordan - we can get on fb and youtube, and I can also view my blog - all of this is blocked in Syria. I can post new blogs, but I cannot view the main page with all of my blogs. Weird, I know.

food (as requested by my dear mother)

Before I get to food... today was my last day of class!! At least the level three class. I have a little rahla (vacation) for a week in Jordan, and then I will return to university for level four. Yesterday we were interviewed (for the final) , and today we took the written final. Both parts weren't too bad. Just long. And of course I was last on the list for the interview yesterday, though I was one of the first to complete the exam today.

Some reflections on the tastes of Syria... food in Syria, for the most part, is latheth jdn, or very delicious. My host mom is an excellent cook, and my host dad has showed me how to cook caraway, a special dessert that I will try to recreate upon my return to the states. My typical, weekday breakfast is served on round silver platter that I place on the table that usually rests folded against my bedroom wall (my room is very small, though fits me well). On this silver platter are small plates of hummus (with olive oil and chickpeas on top), labneh with olive oil, makdoush (im not sure if its eggplant, or a pepper, stuffed with red peppers and lots of olive oil), fresh cheese, and sweet (really sweet) figs. All of this is accompanied by pita bread and a nice cup of tea.

On the weekend, we all eat together (on the table that usually rests folded against the wall) in front of the TV. Some memorable breakfasts include a dish of freshly made, thick hummus with tomatoes, garlic, and lots of olive oil, eaten with pita bread and followed by tea. Another breakfast dish is a creamy soup with potatoes, served over torn pieces of pita bread.

Am Anas usually has lunch ready when I return home from university. I've had Algerian couscous with a meat and vegetable soup poured on top, a Syrian spinach soup with garlic and fresh lemon juice (the lemon juice is characteristic of Syrian cuisine), rice (with a little bit of spaghetti mixed in) served with either a meat (usually lamb or beef) soup or an okra soup (yesterday's meal).

Lunch is the biggest meal of the day. Dinner is usually leftovers from lunch, if you're hungry (lunch can be served at 2, 3, or 4pm). If you're still full from lunch (which is usually my case) then I eat either fresh fruit (the oranges are from the tree in our garden), or rice pudding, or fruit jello, or (last night) caraway served with generous amounts of coconut flakes, pistachios, almonds, cashews, and hazelnuts on top.

Needless to say, I am fed quite well in Syria. My host family doesn't understand why I don't eat more. I tell them that if I ate anymore, I would be huge when I return to America (at which Mohammed says, "like Judy", who isn't really huge, just slightly bigger than me). If you would like to see any of my photos, just send me an email, and I'll invite you to view my web album, though I still need to upload pictures of food.

And now I'm off to the land of Moses, Lawrence of Arabia, Indiana Jones, and numerous tourists. Yullah, bye!

Hammams and daily life

I can't believe that by the end of this week I will have been in Damascus for a month and my first class at university will be done. Yesterday was Mohammed's (the prophet, not my host dad) birthday, so we all had the day off of school. Instead of giving us a three-day weekend, we have to go to school tomorrow, and next week will be a six-day week at university, ending with our final exam. It will be a long week, but after that it's off to Jordan for me... I'm looking forward to the vacation.

This week I enjoyed having dinner at Zilal's house. I met Zilal outside Jamea Abu Noor (mosque) last week, and we chatted a little bit and exchanged numbers. Zilal is learning English, but while I was at her house we primarily spoke in Arabic, especially with her three Turkish housemates. The Turkish meal prepared by one of her housemates was delicious, and I ended up staying at their house for close to four hours. I hope to visit them again soon.

I also went to the hammam for the first time in Syria. The hammam was actually really really nice (in comparison to the one in Morocco, though nice by any standards). It was kind of hidden away on the street with a curtain over the door. You have to knock on the door for someone to let you in. Women use the hammam from 8am to 8pm, and then it's men's hours from 8pm to 8am. The architecture inside is absolutely gorgeous (unfortunately no pictures were taken - I don't think the partially dressed women would have appreciated that). When you first enter the hammam, you enter the main room were you are given a comfy bench and drawer to place your clothes, and then you wrap in your towel and walk to the second room. My friend Elizabeth and I sat in the steam room with an older British woman. It was interesting to hear her travel stories from throughout the Middle East. After the steam room I was scrubbed down by one of the attendants, rinsed off in a third room, returned for a massage, and then soaped on and rinsed off again. When Elizabeth and I returned to the main room, after getting thoroughly clean, there were a lot more women than when we arrived. As we changed back into our clothes, the music was cranked up, and we sat back and watched some of the women dance. Free tea was offered to everyone, and some of the women smoked hookah. Apparently one of the younger girls is getting married soon, and she and her friends were celebrating at the hammam. (coincidentally, the next day in class we read an article about hammams, and it mentioned that it was traditional for brides and grooms to celebrate at the hammam with friends before the wedding... separate male and female hammams of course). So that was really interesting and fun to watch.

Side note: I'm sitting in a cafe right now typing this up and have enjoyed listening to Enrique Iglesias on the radio for the past couple of songs.

I walked to this cafe from my house. Not a far walk, but it took me through a rich neighborhood with a large government building. The neighborhood is fairly well guarded, and when I say well guarded, I mean there are plenty of guards with guns. One of the perks of being caucasian (as terrible as this sounds) means that they assume I belong in this neighborhood and have never been questioned as I walk through the gate and past each guard. I wonder if the guns are loaded (I'm sure they are), but don't really want to think about that too much. I've also gotten really used to ignoring men on the street, which I hate doing, but if you respond to their "hello"s or "oh my god"s or blown kisses or anything else, it only leads to trouble with questions about where you're from, why you're here, what time you get off of university, and requests for "something to remind them of this beauty" (their words, not mine). So I've learned to just ignore it all.

The souqs were decorated with banners of all different colors hung from the ceiling for Mohammed's birthday. I was expecting a holiday somewhat similar to Christmas, or at least some special traditions, but besides these decorations and the day off of school, yesterday was just a normal day in Damascus. Mohammed (my host dad) brought home some special sweets, and Judy and I ran some errands in the souq - most stores were open.

Last night I met some classmates in Bab Touma, and we had dinner and sweets at Francine's house. This was the first time I met Francine. She's a lively 70 year-old student at university from France, and is returning to France this week. We enjoyed some good Lebanese wine, interesting conversations (the other students were from Spain, Canada, France, Germany, China and Japan), and good food. It was a late night, but fun.

Bosra

I've had a really great weekend, full of احمد الله (ahamdu Allah, or praise be to God) moments. Friday I visited my private teacher, Basima's house. Her family was very welcoming and hospitable (a common characteristic of the Middle East). I was fed way too much food, learned many new vocab words, and got to play with Basima's young nephews. Her brother and brother-in-law drove me home. It was a nice visit.

Yesterday I traveled to Bosra with my friend Astrid, about a two-hour bus ride from Damascus (really close to the Jordanian border). The first ahamdu Allah moment was that my taxi arrived at the bus station at exactly the same time as Astrid's, so we were able to figure out the tickets together. The cashier at the ticket counter told us we could buy return tickets in Bosra, not to worry, even though Lonely Planet (and my host family) advised buying both tickets in Damascus. We took his word for it, and in an hour, were off to Bosra. As soon as we arrived in Bosra, we tried to buy return tickets, but we were told all of the buses at all departure times were full. There were no bus tickets to be bought. We started to get worried, but we told that we could take a service bus to Dar'a, and from there, catch a bus to Damascus. We figured, we couldn't really worry about it too much right then, so we left to explore Bosra.

The main attraction in Bosra is a huge theatre with a citadel built around it. In its heyday, the theatre could house 9000 people. It was really amazing to see in person. Everything was very well preserved. We then explored the old city a little bit, stepping in to antique stores and eating at Matam Philip, or Philip's Restaurant. Our server at lunch also told us that all of the return buses to Damascus were full, so after lunch we tried to figure out the service bus thing.

We approached a man sitting in a parked, empty service bus and, in Arabic, explained that we eventually needed to end up in Damascus, though if we could take a service bus to Dar'a, that would work too. He told us, no problem, he was going to Damascus, and we could join him, just wait thirty minutes. Ok, so what's the catch? We tried asking him how much it would cost, and he said we were his guests, no worries, no money. Astrid and I were a little apprehensive about this - it sounded too good to be true. But we decided to wait thirty minutes, and sure enough, around ten Iraqi women show up. This was their bus from Damascus to Bosra and back for the day. They had two available spots, and we were more than welcome to join them.

Before we left Bosra, we walked through the old city again with the group of women. They showed us the cathedral where a priest told Mohammed he would be the prophet. We also visited the mosque Mohammed would visit every year and saw Mohammed's camel's footprints in the stone. On the bus I sat up front with the driver and a young boy who talked with me and shuffled through the music. The women behind me passed around apples and sang along to the music. About an hour outside of Bosra, we pulled off the highway and a portable oil stove was brought out. We stretched our legs and enjoyed tea, coconut cookies, cucumbers, and oranges. True to his word, we were brought back to Damascus safe and sound, and Astrid and I didn't have to pay a cent. The women were very friendly and sweet. It was a great experience, surreal as it was. Definitely one of my favorite moments in Damascus so far. Ahamdu Allah!

traffic in damascus

So another week has come and gone in Damascus. Class is going well for the most part. The grammar is really easy, but the vocab is all new and I'm getting a lot of practice speaking and listening to others. I had my midterm today, and it was actually fairly easy. My host family helps me out a lot too, which is really nice. I asked Am Anas if I could live with them longer, so I'll just be staying with them the whole time now (until mid-May).

I think I've already written about the traffic in Damascus, but I suppose just to reiterate: the traffic here is ridiculous. I would not want to drive in Damascus. I take a service bus whenever I want to go somewhere (the city is also nice for walking). The service buses only cost 10 Syrian lira, or about 20 cents. They pick you up wherever, and drop you off when you say "ala al-yameen, lo samhat" or "on the right, please." Like the roads, they can get pretty crowded sometimes, and which point it's nice to be a girl - most men will give up their seat for you. I asked one of my friends if people in Syria were better drivers than in the states, because cars weave in and out as they please. He said drivers just relay on communicating with each other here. Whereas in the states, everyone assumes that the other drivers will obey traffic laws, here everyone keeps an eye on everyone else, honking frequently to announce their presence. At all times of the day (and night) the streets are loud with the cacophony of traffic.

Happy Valentines Day!

Happy Valentines Day everyone! As I walked through Bab Touma last night (in the old city) I passed many stores selling large red teddy bears and hearts. Red tinsel hung between the narrow, old cobblestone alleys of the old city, and many restaurants advertised Valentines day specials for couples. While riding a service bus to university this morning, I watched a man decorate his car with a pink feather boa. Apparently Valentines Day is a big deal here. And so, from Syria, I wish you all a very happy Valentines Day!

first week at uni

Today's Saturday, which means the weekend is almost over, and I return to university classes tomorrow. The weekend here is Friday and Saturday, with Friday being the Muslim holy day. It seems like the minarets are louder and the calls are more frequent on Fridays, and most stores are closed.

After this first week of class, I feel like I'm becoming more accustomed to Damascus and am falling into somewhat of a daily routine (as much of a routine as you can have in Syria). I have class at university Sunday through Thursday from 9am to 1pm. I leave my house around 8:40 to catch a service bus to uni, and then after class I either catch a service bus back home, or get some coffee/a meal with friends. Lunch with my host family is the biggest meal of the day, and is usually around 2pm, though really its whatever time I come back and want to eat. The whole family eats together (in front of the TV) on the weekends, but during the week we just all help ourselves whenever. The TV is almost always on, and every night Judy, Am Anas, and I watch a Turkish drama dubbed in Arabic. It's in colloquial Syrian, so its a little difficult for me to understand, but the first episodes involved a woman faking her pregnancy (her mom kidnapped a baby for her), and another women being kidnapped (she eventually escaped), and now the main characters are in Istanbul, and theres some romantic tension building up between two characters. Judy and Am Anas love the show, and its fairly entertaining.

Yesterday I went with Am Anas to visit her aunt. Syrians are very proud of their hospitality, and it's really quite amazing. We were brought Arabic coffee (very thick, with the coffee grounds settling in the bottom of the cup), plates of fruit, some sort of sweet with cheese on the bottom and dough on top (delicious!) and then tea. After staying at her house for quite some time, we left and drove to the old Damascene house in which Am Anas was raised. The house has been renovated to make it more modern (it's at least 150 years old), but the floors, ceilings, and stairs are original, and it was absolutely gorgeous. The house centers on an open-air courtyard, and the roof had a great view of old Damascus. We then bought falafel sandwiches and drove to the top of the mountain to eat them with a view of the night lights of Damascus. I could see the green lights of mosques all throughout the city.

Damascus is busy. It can be loud and dirty. But the people are genuinely friendly (with the exception of some creepy guys), and I'm becoming more comfortable and starting to like the city.

First week... Damascus, Qala'at Al-Hosn, Afamea, wa Hama

So I've now been in Damascus for a week, though it's felt much longer. The first couple of days were pretty overwhelming. First impressions - Damascus is big and there's a lot of traffic. I'm finally learning my way around though, or at least which minibuses to take, so I'm feeling more comfortable in the city. The first couple of days were very busy, registering at the university, getting my blood test (I don't have AIDS... woohoo! --if the test had come up positive, I would have 24 hours to leave the country), taking the placement test (I'm starting in the beginner 3 class), and meeting my private tutor. Maybe the most surprising thing so far is the cold. It actually snowed a couple of days ago. Not enough to stick, but still quite cold.

My host family is really nice. I have a host mom (Am Anas), dad (Mohammed), and sister (Judy is 13 years). They are really patient and helpful. Judy talks in the Syrian dialect a lot, but my host parents speak fusah, and I'm picking up a little of the dialect as well. I feel like al-kitaab has failed me in basic conversation, but I'm learning many new words every day and hopefully improving in that aspect (this is a very humbling experience). We have a pet turtle which sleeps in a box outside of my room. She's fun to watch. Two days ago I traveled with Am Anas to her sister's home and later her daughter's. So far I've eaten most of my meals with the family, and they've stressed to me several times that I'm home now, I'm their daughter now, and I can help myself to whatever. Mafi mushkila - no problem. Everyone is very hospitable.

Thursday I met my private teacher, Basema. My lessons are at a private school next to a mosque, and my first lesson was actually inside the mosque. I had to take my shoes off and cover my head. We were on the second floor of the mosque, with other female students studying around us. I'll meet her three times a week in the afternoon for two hours at a time.

Yesterday I traveled with Arabesk to Qala'at Al-Hosn, Afamea, and Hama (north of the city). It was really nice to leave the city and see snow covered mountains and green fields. Qala'at Al-Hosn is a huge crusader castle (possibly the biggest in the world?) and in really good condition. It sits on top of a mountain and has a great view of the cities, olive trees, and fields below (with snow-covered Lebanese mountains in the distance). Afamea is a city first built in the 3rd century BC. Archaeologists have restored some of the columns, but much of the site still lies in ruins. It is a huge site and very impressive to see in person. We only stayed in Hama long enough to see old water wheels and buys some sweets for our ride back home.

Today was my first day of class at the university. Unfortunately I missed half of class because I had an appointment at the US Embassy to get a letter for university (and they gave me the wrong thing, so I'll have to book another appointment). My teacher is really nice and patient. The students are all ages and from all over the world. It's interesting to hear all of their stories. Class is from 9:00am to 1:00am, with 10min breaks every hour.

And now I should probably go study. It's a lot to take in, but it's good.