Part Two – Syrian Journal
My camera was broken by the time I reached Syria so the only photos I have are distorted . For this blog I added Google images
In my long ago travels in Syria I found the local people to
be friendly and willing to help me as a young American travelling through their
land. I was invited into homes and had
meals purchased for me, and many who helped me on my way by providing directions. Today, when I read the daily news and hear of
the death and destruction in Syria it gives me such great sadness…. Also, how ironic
that I wrote my last blog only a few days before the burning of my beloved Souk
el Zarb. This was a UN World Heritage site severely damaged by the flames of war. Here is what BBC had to say about the fire:
As I read my last blog and this one it seems very strange to hear my words as a
21 year old come back to me … for me it’s a great reason for keeping
journals. My journal has in fact become a time
capsule to the way I thought and acted at that time in my life.
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There is one thing about staying in hostels – I meet such a variety
of people and then we travel our different ways – only to meet again in another
hostel later on. I had a fine
‘homecoming’ with several friends that first morning in Damascus as we shared a
breakfast of bread, honey, dates, and little glasses of hot red tea... I went
to the American Express office to pick up my mail from home. As I sat in a teashop reading my mail,
another ‘hosteller’ stopped by and we later went to the Jordanian embassy to
get travel visas.
Much of the day was
spent in catching up with the news of my travel friends and taking it a little easy from the busy last several days. I met some older Germans who seemed like sad
people to me – a travel weary older man and younger woman who had ‘wandering’ for
all the years since the war crushed Germany... they had been around the world twice – they
would stop and work enough to make a little money to live on and then off
again... Modern day gypsies... it made me realize that one could become stuck
in this life of being a ‘hosteller’.
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| Street scene in Damascus |
First thing Monday morning I went first to the bakery to buy
bread for the day, then went to see the famous gardens of Damascus There I was
stopped by a group of armed soldiers who demanded to see my journal and
passport – My journal really seemed to concern them and they passed it back and
forth – even though none of them could read English. After a delay they allowed me to
continue.
All through the city there are
groups of armed troops, and occasional armored cars with machine guns pointed
to the sky, also large guns being pulled in the streets. Later as I walked more through the city, I
saw whole streets blocked off, and parks appeared to be made into battle ready
encampments – tents, machine gun placements, armored cars – sitting, waiting, helmets...
Once more my journal was taken from me and examined and my passport was checked
and rechecked... I found later that there had been a revolt in Baghdad with
some people killed – everything was in complete lockdown. When we woke the next morning we were advised
not to leave the hostel because there had been a “bloodless coup” overnight here
in Damascus. It appears that the army
general kicked out the Bath party (very conservative)
everyone in the city was on edge. Later that day in the afternoon I went with
friends to explore the souk (market district) but it was not as extensive as
Souk el Zarb in Aleppo. I found an
inlaid wood chess board and some hand crafted leather goods. Damascus was satisfying – the city was grand
and it was good to reconnect with friends.
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| Loungers |
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| Market |
(Next entry) When I
reached the time limit for my stay in Damascus I woke early to catch a bus for
Jordan. The one I expected had broken
down so I had to wait until 10:30. This
proved to be a dolmish (communal taxi) that
charged 10 Lira – ($2.75) for the trip into Amman Jordan – that was expensive
but my only choice. And it didn’t leave
until 11:30. The driver stood outside his car shouting – “Amman” “Amman” until
he had collected enough people to fill the dolmish. As I waited, seated on a bench, a Syrian army guy came over to me and grabbed me by the
shoulder and pulled me up – holding on to me, he pulled his long dagger with a
curved blade and held it up menacingly.
Then his face changed from anger to laughter and he walked away. Was he just kidding with me? Was he trying to scare me? Was he trying to say he didn’t like
Americans? I guess I’ll never know. Its funny but I didn’t feel very threatened by him because there were a lot of people standing right there waiting for buses.
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| building - Damascus |
The group of us that finally started the trip to Amman was
the driver, a man in the back seat and his two young wives. Also joining us
were an older Arab man and his wife and two children. The back seat I shared with a young Arab and
a very old woman. The young Arab was
constantly ordering the two young women about
- for example they peeled his fruit for him. It was quite jolly with
everyone sharing fruit and bread as we went along.
Some people spoke English and explain to me that the Baathist
government is Iraq fell first, then two days later the army in Syria revolted
and the Baathist’s were also defeated... so nobody knew what the response of
the loyalists would be,
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| Syria has a few rivers - and when its possible they have built water wheels - mostly to run flour mills. To hear a recording of the water wheel sound click here: http://www.sonicwonders.org/?p=1133 |
As we neared the Syrian border we began to encounter large detachments of
the Syrian army – 4 large units – each with troops, artillery, tanks, and
supply trucks... Here was an entire army on the move! I found later that it was all very
convoluted... the revote in Amman, We arrived in Amman late. First things first – I was starving without
much to eat all day – so I found a street food stall that was selling something
wrapped up in newspaper – they had put together a collection of meat slices on
a spit and had a hot bed of coals to cook the outside meat. Then they sliced off the toasted meat on the
outside and wrapped it in pida bread with tomatoes, cucumber, turnip pickle, and yogurt
sauce. It was love at first taste. They
call it Shawarma!
I walked into the first hotel that looked ‘acceptable’ it was clean and cheap – the rooms were for 4 people – but I had it to myself. A young Palestinian who spoke good English decided to educate me on the issue of Israel – He said, “Look we lived in Sprain (the Moors) for over 300 years – do we get it back just because we ask for it? – Why should the Jews get the best land in the Middle East – so easily? He continued, "I lived right over the border in East Palestine and from the top of my hill I can look over and see my old house. But I cant even go back to visit my home."
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| Sharwama |
I walked into the first hotel that looked ‘acceptable’ it was clean and cheap – the rooms were for 4 people – but I had it to myself. A young Palestinian who spoke good English decided to educate me on the issue of Israel – He said, “Look we lived in Sprain (the Moors) for over 300 years – do we get it back just because we ask for it? – Why should the Jews get the best land in the Middle East – so easily? He continued, "I lived right over the border in East Palestine and from the top of my hill I can look over and see my old house. But I cant even go back to visit my home."
Note added 10/5/12: At the time this was written I had been traveling for 3 months... and I would continue traveling for an additional 2 months... so this is one slice out of my Hosteling adventures - perhaps over time I will add more ...
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Street in Amman - old town
If you are confused about our weather thick here: http://www.examiner.com/article/el-nino-realities-and-myths
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