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Published: March 11th 2006
February 22, 2006 (Damascus, Syria)
Shannon: From our current location, you can tell that we did eventually make it across to the Promised Land, or the country we call Syria. Who knew getting into this country would be such a hassle? After our failed attempts at the Syrian Embassy in Amman and our “storm the border” back-up plan, we were forced to move on to Plan C. We learned about this option from a fellow American we met at our hostel. Through a friend-of-a-friend sort of deal, he knew about an alternate way to get across the border: be invited. Evidently, tourism companies in Syria are able to secure you a special visa - I really can’t explain it, to be honest, because I still don’t understand it. Somehow the company makes you their “guest” and is responsible for you during your stay in Syria. This means that they have to accompany you into the country and then out again when you leave. But that didn’t seem like a big deal to us and it actually ended up being a little better financially than going through the Syrian Embassy - they only charge about half what the Embassy was asking
Heaps O' Sweets
Many baklava shops in Damascus show off their wares with these towers of goods. MMMMmmm...so tasty. Note the shopkeeper wondering what that crazy white girl is taking a picture of.for. Armed with this new information, we contacted the agency that the American was going through. The owner of the agency could have someone meet us at the border the next day. Great! We were even able to give this information to the fellow American we had met at the Syrian Embassy (the one who had been waiting 5 weeks for a visa). She had a friend coming into town and they would both be heading for Syria, so the timing was perfect. We agreed to meet up the next day and head to the border.
In the back of my mind, I had a few lingering doubts about this process, but it seemed as though at least a few people had used this method before with good results. Still, I was a bit nervous as we cleared Jordanian immigration (again!) and headed for Syrian immigration. I shouldn’t have worried: the agency representative, Nada, was there as planned and she had everything we needed, including some official looking Excel spreadsheets (because Excel spreadsheets make everything look official). She got the three of us through no problem. Ironically, though, we did run into a bit of a snafu, but with
Crazy Like a Fox
While walking down a random street in Damascus, we saw a large taxidermy shop. Most of the animals were in what I would call the "classic menace" pose - fangs bared, hint of blood on the fur, that sort of thing. For some reason, though, the owner had these three little foxes dressed up and playing traditional musical instruments. They're sort of eerie looking. the member of the party we were least expecting. Sarah (our fellow American) was traveling with Jeanie, her friend from New Zealand. Jeanie already had a Syrian visa, which she had gotten before she left home, so we were sure she would get through. But it turns out that Jeanie had already visited Israel sometime in the past, and although she had gotten the Israeli immigration officers to stamp some other piece of paper (Israel will do this because they are aware that the Israeli stamp in your passport is the Kiss of Death for many Muslim countries), there was the small matter of the Jordanian exit stamp showing where she had left Jordan and crossed overland into Israel. To be honest, Sean and I had known all about this issue - it’s commonly discussed on travel websites, in travel books and by fellow travelers. We knew not to even attempt Israel via some overland route because of the whole exit stamp issue - sure, Israel will accommodate you, but Jordan won’t - and Syrian immigration officials know all the border crossings by heart. Unfortunately for Jeanie, the Syrian Embassy where she received her visa didn’t catch that Jordanian exit
Unfinished Mosque
This picture highlights two of the most ubiquitous sights in the Middle East. Unfinished Construction and Mosques. We can't explain why there are so many unfinished buildings, but it seems almost sacrilege that that fate befall a house of worship. stamp and issued it anyway. But there is no leeway on this issue at immigration, so Jeanie got turned away, forced to go back to Amman. Sarah continued on with us, but was only going to spend a few days before heading back to join her in Amman.
The whole issue is really kind of a crock, since Syrian officials are keen to admit that the way to solve this issue is just to get a new passport. They openly advocate for it in cases such as this. They don’t want to turn you away, but those are the rules: any evidence of travel to Israel precludes you from visiting Syria. But if you take away the evidence, it’s no problem. Rather inane policy, if you ask me. While we were waiting for the Syrian immigration officials to figure out what to do with Jeanie, I also learned this interesting tidbit: It’s only the blue passports that have problems getting visas at the border. While we were waiting in Syrian immigration, we ran into some fellow travelers, Laurent and Virginia, who were doing what we had tried to do: secure a visa at the border. They were successful, though.
Laurent is French and Virginia is Spanish. Nada explained it to me: Europeans generally don’t have a problem getting the visas issued at the border, despite the fact that the Syrian official policy states otherwise: it’s mostly just Americans that get turned away. She shrugged. C’est la vie.
Sean: The official party line concerning my country aside, it cannot be stated more emphatically how nice the people are here in Syria. Of course, as we mentioned in the last missive, the Jordanians were very welcoming, but it’s nice to know that even though we crossed the border into a land that our government vehemently disparages, we have been treated with amazing hospitality. The only downside to being the object of such generous warmth is that we stick out as if we were wearing neon. As a country that isn’t quite used to an inundation of westerners as tourists, we are oddities. We are gawked at and groups will cease conversations as we walk by. It does get a little tiring being “on display” all the time, but if these are the worst problems facing us, then we’re not doing too badly.
When we do meet people on the
streets, the first question is
always “Where are you from?” After we answer, they then invariably say some version of the following: “I love Americans, I hate your government” (the lone current occupant of the Executive branch seems to be the main target of these invectives). This is all said with a welcoming smile and with nothing more than cheerfulness at meeting real live Americans. After this, we are usually invited to tea. I’m serious when I say that we wouldn’t accomplish anything in a given day (and we’d be peeing constantly) if we took up every offer of tea. It happens
that frequently. Also, when we come upon groups of boys and girls they can barely contain their laughter as they erupt with goaded shouts of “hello” and run away in titters. This is the reality of being American and traveling in the Middle East.
Now that we’re in Syria we’re glad we made the extra effort (and saved a bit o’ dough by not flying over) as the reports from our media have portrayed this country’s people unfairly. I will not speak in defense of the Syrian government, but I can let everyone know that the occupants
of this country are friendly and welcoming which is all that you can ask for in a tourist destination.
Having said that, at least we’re not Danish.
In response to the recent spate of political cartoons that depicted the prophet Mohammed in a negative light, there is an advertising campaign urging Syrians not to buy any products from Denmark. We even saw that one carpet shop merchant had posted a sign (in perfect English) stating that he would not sell anything to a Dane.
Other than these little political hiccups, Damascus has quite a bit to offer. For one thing, it claims to be the oldest continuously inhabited city in the world. There is a very small list of other places that claim this as well, but since no one knows for sure, none of them begrudge each other for printing that superlative in their brochures. For the past 10,000 to 12,000 years, this little hamlet on the Barada River has been home to all manner of civilizations. Not too shabby.
Arguably the most interesting area is the old, walled portion of the city, mostly built during the Roman times and added to throughout the ages
into what it is today. It’s full of twisting, winding, lose-yourself alleyways where tiny, nondescript doors lead to stunningly beautiful courtyards and palatial abodes.
On one of the days we were losing ourselves amongst the narrow passages we were approached by a jovial and chatty local named Christopher. Half Syrian and half Swedish, he obviously didn’t have many pressing engagements for the three hours he spent showing us every manner of interesting tidbit. Now, with the memory of Egypt not too distant, we’re always nervous when anyone approaches and wants to give us a little “tour” (“Ooh, look. Pyramid very old. Give me money”). In this case, however, Christopher turned out to be the genuine article and when the excursion was over, he vanished as quickly as he had appeared. I believe that an offer of money would have been an insult, although I was about to suggest we get some lunch or tea, but he bolted so fast that I didn’t get a chance. The intervening time was spent taking us inside beautiful old homes, flicking on the lights like he owned the place, and barging into amazing courtyards with little old women hanging their wash and giggling
Outdoor Seating
Most of the houses we visited had outdoor seating on one side of the courtyard in recessed niches such as this. at us as he pointed to some of the architectural details. It’s worth mentioning that he is a civil engineer in the building trade, so needless to say, he was smitten with Shannon from the get go. I just attempted to hold on for the wild ride as these two talked shop and compared notes.
After we’d said goodbye, Shannon and I went to one of the many coffee shops for a little afternoon pick-me-up. The cafes here are a little different than in Jordan as you see more women sitting, drinking and smoking the nargileh (hookah). My preconceptions were that Syria would be a stricter society than Jordan, but the women here are much more western in dress and mannerisms than I would have thought. So much for presumptions.
Shannon: As Sean mentioned, its interesting to see all of the western-looking women about in Damascus. My preconception was that we would actually see more women in the head-to-toe abeyya. What we’ve found is completely different. Of course, judging women’s issues in a country based solely on their dress would be extremely superficial; that acknowledged, I should point out that dress is one of the few barometers we
Sumptuous Interiors
Light and airy...and the painted woodwork was phenomenal. can use as a travelers. Very few women work in a capacity where we have the opportunity to interact with them; it was interesting to me when I realized that we were being served almost exclusively by men. Throughout the Middle East, we’ve found that storekeepers, wait staff in restaurants, and even the housekeeping staff in hotels have all been men, with very few exceptions. When other people (travelers) ask me what I think of women’s issues in these countries, I don’t know what to say. I haven’t really met any women nor had even one significant conversation to draw any conclusions.
Damascus itself is a more atmospheric city than Amman - particularly the “Old City” where we spend the majority of our time. Damascus has a very lively souq (market) area within the Old City walls that is enormous and also wonderful to browse through: spices, jewelry, hardware, fabric, mattresses - you name it, it’s sold there. One day Sean and I sought out a chocolate shop in the market (Al Ghraoui Confiseur Chocolatier - ‘purveyors to Queen Victoria’) for a small sweet treat and then wandered further down the market looking at more shops. A short distance
away was what appeared to be a small apothecary stall with all sorts of interesting old bottles and canisters. Pausing for a moment to watch, we were amazed to see the man behind the counter dispensing what appeared to be live leeches to a waiting patron. Seriously, folks, you can find anything in these markets.
I love the contrast of the Old City and the new, also. On a typical morning we might leave our hotel, which is surrounded by modern concrete mid-rise buildings, and walk the few blocks to the Old City, weaving our way through numerous lanes of traffic just to get there. But once inside the old city walls, it’s like walking back in time. Few cars can fit through the tiny streets of the souq so it’s very much a pedestrian atmosphere. People are crowded into shops, sitting in a café smoking their nargileh or headed to the gigantic Umayyad Mosque to pray. It’s colorful, congested and very captivating.
And as Sean mentioned earlier, Damascus has some amazing houses and courtyards. A few of them have been turned into restaurants or cafes, and oddly enough a few more have been restored but sit empty.
Richly Decorated
This was one of the houses we just walked in with our friend, Christopher. There wasn't anyone around to even care about our intentions. Our guidebook pointed some of these out and we took some time to visit them. It felt a bit odd, to be honest, visiting these houses because you didn’t have to pay to enter them, so they weren’t quite a tourist attraction. You just sort of walked in and had a look around. But they were beautiful. Most of the rooms had woodwork that had been painted in colorful designs and many of them had stunning doors with mother-of-pearl inlay patterns. And of course they all had at least one central courtyard, dominated by a large fountain and citrus trees growing around the perimeter. We also took the time to see probably the most famous of these Damascene houses, Azem Palace, built between 1749 and 1752 as a private residence for the governor of Damascus. As the name implies, it was particularly impressive, with everything done on a much grander scale. I’m not afraid to admit, though, that my heart still belongs to some of the smaller houses - those I could picture myself living in.
February 24, 2006 (Palmyra, Syria)
Shannon: Yesterday we hopped on a bus from Damascus headed for the desert town of Palmyra,
Palmyra
View from the remnants of the Roman city to the castle on the hill. home of Syria’s biggest tourist attraction, the ancient Roman ruins of the same name. It’s about a 3 hour drive northeast from Damascus through some very barren, sandy terrain. The ruins are located not far from a large lake and a small desert oasis, though. This location, and the fall of the Nabataean trade routes through Petra, helped to make Palmyra an important Roman outpost and the city flourished for a few hundred years. The city began to decline, though, in the 2nd Century AD and altogether fades from history following the Muslim conquest of the city in 634. Today the site is a vast graveyard of broken columns and partially remaining temples. Since it is one of Syria’s most famous sites, we felt it deserved a trip out there. Having seen it, though, I would have to say that it is very similar to places we’ve already been - though it is remarkable for the large funerary towers located on the nearby hills and for the vast size of the site. I don’t mean to sound dismissive of Palmyra - as a Roman ruin, it is very nice. Is it that unique in this world? No, probably not.
Palmyra Funerary Tower
The skyscrapers of the ancient funeral business. Sean: I hate to say it, but it’s difficult to muster much enthusiasm for - yet - another ancient ruined Roman city, no matter how massive or well preserved. We’ve seen quite a bit of history so far and our “gee whiz” threshold is increasing by the day.
Unlike other places in Syria we’ve encountered, Palmyra has started to become commercialized: they’ve even got quite a few touts hawking camel rides and tacky souvenirs. I must give them credit as they tried hard to best their Egyptian counterparts, but they lacked endurance so could not bring home any Team Sean and Shannon accolades. Perhaps with enough careful study and imitation though, someday they too can become masters in the realm of crass commercialization.
February 25, 2006 (Hama, Syria)
Shannon: Currently we are staying in the town of Hama, a bustling commercial city in north-central Syria known for its
norias, huge wooden water wheels built from the 5th century on to the 13th century. The town itself is set on the Orontes River and is much lower than the adjacent hills, which have been used for farming for hundreds of years. The norias were built to lift water
Hama Norias
Water would be lifted from the river to the level of the aqueducts, which would then deliver it to the fields for irrigation. from the river into aqueducts that would carry it to these hills for irrigation. About 30 water wheels were built originally; 17 of them survive. They still turn, too, though only from April through October when the level of the river is much higher. We visited some of the ones in town. Sean, who treats everything as a tactile experience, even managed to get one to turn by hanging on it. It made an awful racket as I suppose they don’t get around to greasing these things up very often (
Sean: There are no bearings involved, it’s all wood on wood. Even the little bit I was able to make the one noria spin, it let out an amazing screech). In fact, the owner of the hostel we are staying at told us how they had been scouting a location for a new boutique hotel to build and how they had wanted to put it somewhere in the “old city” of Hama. The proximity to the norias was a problem, though, because the awful clamor they make when they turn was bound to keep guests up all night. But they are very picturesque…
As we were walking around today
Sean and his Noria
This gives an idea of the massive size of the water wheels. taking pictures of the norias a guy approached us asking if we would mind having tea with him. His name is Abdullah and he is studying English and wanted some practice. Thinking that it might be nice to meet a local, we agreed to meet him later for tea. We met later at a local cafe and it was interesting to learn more about his life. Though he is from Hama, he now works in Dubai because the pay is much better (he buys and sells parts for high-end cars). He is currently single but would like to find a wife. He said that meeting women on your own is not easy (proper Muslim women are rarely in situations where you can meet them as a stranger). He told us that many times you end up marrying a cousin or other relative; if there are no distant cousins that interest you, you then end up asking your mother to find a suitable wife. He says that this works very well (always trust your mother, I guess). When she does find you a suitable mate, then you and your parents go to have tea at the woman’s house. Her family sits
Chicken Shwarma Vendor
Mmmmm...cooked animal flesh. It tastes so good. with you and she might serve you tea. You don’t really get a chance to talk to your prospective bride, but if you like her looks, you indicate your interest to her father and you become engaged. The courtship might be short or, if you want, it could last up to a couple of years (as long as the father agrees). Very rarely during this engagement will you get time alone together (you will always have a chaperone) though it sounded like you would use this time to get to know each other better. (Abdullah didn’t really give the impression that you could back out though, if you found you weren’t all that compatible). It certainly didn’t sound like a way that I would want to meet my future husband (I guess if I didn’t like his looks, I could spill a little tea on him) but it is their system and so I don’t want to be negative about it. Besides, it’s not like our society is overly inhabited by a plethora of perfectly married couples. (
Sean: The woman’s lack of choice aside, we do look on this as an anachronistic way to pick a mate, but it’s worth
noting that match-making websites are very popular these days. You pay a stranger to put together a “profile” of you and help you choose a partner…as opposed to the days of yore where your parents, knowing your “profile” and performing the job for free, would help you.) My first inclination is to feel bad for the women in the situation - I’m sure that they don’t have much say at all - but then I’m superimposing my western ideals onto their lives. As I said before, I can’t write intelligently about how these women feel because I haven’t met any who’ve given me their point of view. It would be interesting to talk to a woman here, though I’m not sure how to create that opportunity…
Family, though, is taken very seriously in the Middle East. Men that we meet always want to know if we have any children. When we say “no”, they are very quick to tell us how many they have. It is a real source of pride for many (and for others, a good way to brag about their virility without outright telling us how manly they are). But you do get a sense of
how deeply entrenched the notions of family are; much like in some Asian cultures, it is seen as very shameful not to provide for your family. And while you do see some people asking for handouts on the street, I haven’t gotten the feeling that they are homeless. It may be a way to bring money into the family, but I think they have a home to go back to at night.
February 27, 2006 (Aleppo, Syria)
Shannon: Yesterday we visited Krak des Chevaliers, what T.E. Lawrence called “the finest castle in the world”. I’m not sure that either Sean or I are sufficiently well-traveled to pass that judgment, but it certainly is well-preserved and the epitome of everything the word castle usually conjures up. For one, it sits high on top of the largest hill in an area surrounded by green agricultural terraces. Glimpsing it from below as we approached by public bus, it is immediately recognizable - and I was struck by its size. It didn’t just sit at the top of the hill; it dominated the hill. Once inside, too, you begin to get an appreciation for its magnitude and what a magnificent effort
Portico in front of the Reception Room
The delicate architecture lends an interesting touch to this massive stone fortress. it must have been to build. In it’s heyday it could accommodate a garrison of 2,000 men (and reputedly could hold provisions to outlast a siege for 5
years). The quantity of stone that went into building it is mind-boggling.
We spent many hours leading ourselves on a self-guided tour. Hardly anything was off-limits so we were free to scramble up precarious stairs and peer over edges leading to dangerous falls to our hearts content. We soaked it all up, knowing that in the near future some poor tourist was going to fall to their death doing the exact same thing and then it would be closed to everyone. Which begs the question: have these countries never heard of a guardrail? Is there no middle ground?
We also had a nice surprise in our eating options - ravenous and having failed to bring anything with us, we were prepared to get soaked in the usual tourist café set up inside the castle. To our astonishment, not only was the food a good deal in our opinion, but they didn’t even tack on any “supplemental” charges that have invariably ballooned our bills at restaurants throughout Syria. The menu was
Stairway
It probably ends abruptly with a 100' fall and no warning. fairly basic - choose from a selection of 4 entrees - but it came with a mountain of appetizers (10 to be exact). It was an absolute feast for 2 people, even before the entrees came. And it cost us the equivalent of about $7.60 total, drinks included. It earned high marks on our “value” scale.
Sean: The meal
was a great value. We were absolutely stuffed and weren’t disappointed with the quality either. The rest of the castle, as Shannon stated, was absolutely amazing, too. Huge, cavernous and well preserved, you could spend a few days wandering into and out of every nook and cranny. Not to mention the views from on top (no guard rails!) as you stared down and wondered how many arrows were let loose onto attacking armies. It was a bugger that the weather was uncooperatively foggy as it would have afforded some excellent pictures of the surrounding valleys.
The coastal area of Syria is separated from the rest of the country by a mountain range named Jebel Ansariyya. Krak de Chevaliers commanded the relatively narrow gap between mountains in this range and so was able to control access to the interior of
the country from the ports on the coast. Not a bad gig, if you can get it. All you needed to do was build a monstrous castle, and just wait for the profits to roll in as you charged everyone to transit through in peace.
I’m still amazed at how they could’ve built something so massive, way up high, and so far away from just about everything. By today’s standards this would be a
major feat of engineering, so it boggles my mind how they were able to accomplish this Herculean task so long ago.
February 28, 2006 (Aleppo, Syria)
Sean: In addition to Damascus, this is one of the other cities in the world that lays claim to being the oldest continuously inhabited city. As I said earlier, we’re not too sure, but it is old. We went through their old town today, passing through the large gate in the city wall and into the market that’s still the main center of commerce. It’s pretty cool to think that people have been buying all manner of daily supplies here for hundreds of years (presumably the ancient inhabitants weren’t buying Spongebob Squarepants backpacks, but… and, let’s
Aleppo Citadel
If you get past the huge iron gates, over the bridge, past the boiling hot oil and the flaming arrows, you might just get into the Citadel. Maybe. be honest, doesn’t everyone want to live in Bikini Bottom?) We were offered many invitations by storekeepers to “just look” and even accepted a few. We drank tea and chatted as they tried very hard to sell us their wares. (As a side note, it’s obvious that we’re getting closer to Turkey as the offers of carpets are growing more frequent. We’re steeling ourselves for Istanbul, knowing very well that
everyone we pass on the street has an uncle with a carpet shop just around the corner.)
Besides the market, Aleppo has its own colossal citadel perched on top of a hill. With a huge moat and long walk to the keep, it would’ve taken quite a bit to storm this castle. The defenses were well planned and include 5 right angle turns to get inside (to foil any chance of using a battering ram), boiling oil holes perched above the doorways all throughout the entrance, and slits everywhere from which to hurl flaming arrows of death at any invaders (well, maybe not flaming, but you get the picture). On the other side of the keep it’s a bit of a mess with partially preserved ruins littering the interior
Aleppine Boy
As a general rule, I take very few photos of people I don't know. As we were walking along in Aleppo, though, this boy came around the corner and was very insistent that I take his photo. After I did, I showed him the result, which made him giggle. He walked off with a huge smile on his face. Cute boy. and not much else. And Aleppo not being a picturesque city, the views from the top, while far reaching, aren’t spectacular; lots of tan, four story buildings punctuated periodically by the minarets of mosques which are so ubiquitous here in the Middle East.
But tomorrow we will be moving on to Turkey, a country that, while still considered the Middle East by some, is valiantly trying to get itself included in the European Union. We visited there once before, back in 1999 and are excited at the prospect of returning to a country we really enjoyed the first time around.
Until then…
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Eli
non-member comment
Thanks!
Truly inspiring pictures. Thank you. Your brother blogger - Eli Barnes