Laughter

---

Laughter is the sun that drives winter from the human face. ~Victor Hugo

After a couple days of heavy rain and cool weather (we even had some wet snow!), the sun is shining, the birds are singing, and it’s starting to feel like spring again. Along with the regular birdsongs, when I’m in the kitchen and the weather is nice, I am occasionally treated to the interesting sounds from the parrot who resides in the shop across the street. Parrots are a common sight in the little shops here. Maybe they keep the owners company, or attract buyers, or even catch shop lifters. Who knows? It’s just one of the nice little things about Syria.

Another nice thing is how much Syrians love to laugh. “Be happy” really should be the slogan for Syria. At first, I thought it was just the girls and guys in the office who are constantly joking around. But after my tour to the south with a busload of locals…moms, dads, babies, teens, cousins, and grandfathers…I realized that these folks are truly party animals. The tour started off in the traditional manner with the guide standing at the front with a microphone giving us the day’s itinerary. But after that, it was “whose got talent”. One by one, the “tourists” came up to the front of the bus to take the microphone and entertain us with a story, a joke, a song or even a dance. Children are especially encouraged to show off, as you can see in the photo of the sweet young lady in the red dress. Once she got that microphone, she wasn’t giving it up easily. When we were off the bus and touring ancient Roman and Byzantine ruins, it was all about posing for the camera with more joking and teasing. There’s so much history here the Syrians don’t take it too seriously. That doesn’t mean they don’t appreciate it. But there isn’t the same reverence you might find in France or Italy.

Despite the long day, I didn’t hear a harsh word or a cranky child throughout the entire trip.

When we finished the tour at a local restaurant for lunch and some traditional music, the singer and oud player made up songs on the spot, to the great delight of the audience. As the only foreigner in the room I was serenaded at least twice in poetic hyperbole that defies translation, but I got the gist of it. This is a tradition and an expectation, as I found out a few days later when we were entertained in a Bedouin tent. The songs are meant to formally welcome and to compliment (and sometimes make fun of), individual members of the audience. And somehow the singer has to find out a little about his audience before hand, so there’s a bit of magic in it as well.

The atonal, wavering songs, however, sound a little sad. That goes with the romantic, emotional and poetic side of the Syrian. It’s no wonder Italian opera, South American tango and the Golden Oldies by Frank and Bing are also popular here, even amongst the under 30s.

Storytellers, poets, court jesters, romantics…this is the Syrian/Arabic tradition. No wonder I like it here.

It does also beg the question; could there be a revolution here? Somehow I can’t imagine it. Within a few minutes, any young firebrand spouting revolutionary slogans would be booted off the stage if he or she couldn’t tell a good joke and make people laugh. A demonstration (and they do happen here, as long as they are govt approved) is just a good excuse to get out of the house and party with your neighbours, family and friends. Life is too short, and too precious, to take too seriously.

---