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.