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.