Tuesday, August 12, 2008

I Can't Think of a Clever Title


Damascus was top notch. I really really liked the city. It's such a wild mix of people that it makes for intriguing people watching at all times of the day. I was surprised to find out that a little over 10% of the Syrian population is Christian. I would have though the number was much lower, but I would have been wrong. There is a strong Christian community in Damascus stemming from Biblical times. I actually went to the house of Annanias (whom you might remember from your Sunday School class) where Paul stayed for a few days. I forgot how much rich Biblical history resides in Syria.

During the evenings I met with a Syrian named Soubhi. He is fresh out of medical school but didn't ask that I call him Doctor. He was a real down to earth guy who spent some time in the states in Houston working in a hospital. He also holds a slight grudge against UofL because they denied him a position working at their school. I immediately liked him.

We spent the majority of our time just walking the streets of Damascus and talking about life. He is a really well informed guy and made a great tour guide. He told me lots of stuff that I didn't know like how to tell the difference between a Sunni woman and a Shia'a woman by the way they tie their hijab (Shia'a covers the chin). We also talked about Hizballah, Bush and Syrian-US relations. I did notice, however, that when we started talking about these topics, his voice got a little lower and he looked around a lot to make sure no one was listening. I then touted the greatness of America because people literally stand on street corners and speak out against the government because it's their right. I told him the story of the Dixie Chicks and how they fell out of favor with the country music community a few years back.

Last night we met again and went on top (or as close as we could get to the top) of Jebal Kassir, which is a large mountain that overlooks the city. Everyone I spoke to said that this was a must-see in Damascus and they were right. It was a cool, breezy evening on top of that mountain and the view couldn't have been better. Aside from the few fellows who were offering us prostitutes, it was a pretty serene setting. Around 8:45 the final call to prayer for the evening began ringing out from each of the many many mosques that dot the city. Soubhi told me that a couple years back there was a movement to organize one call to prayer so it would be in unison. It was overwhelmingly defeated and it remains that everyone starts on their own clock, which are never ever the same. So from the top of this mountain the call to prayer starts and I tell Soubhi it sounds like a haunted choir. One voice sounds nice, a mix of voices at all different points of the prayer sounds like a battlefield of wounded men moaning. I'm not sure my "haunted choir" label was really understood by Soubhi. He gave me a sympathy laugh. Or maybe I'm just not that funny. That's a possibility also.

So this morning I checked out of my cell at the monestary and through several means of transportation have arrived safely in Cairo. This, of course, was not without its obstacles. More ATMs that didn't work, annoying children sitting in front of me on the airplane that decided to smack me in the head while mamma lit up a cig (I swear to you- this happened. What was the last year you were allowed to smoke on an airplane?? 1985? How can you not know that's not kosher? You should have seen everyone's faces when they first got the whiff of that cigarette. It was a priceless moment.), taxi drivers arguing over cartons of cigarettes (do cigarettes make the world go around?) and a scene straight off of Animal Planet (except involving humans) as I approach my hostel in Cairo. It's been quite the day and now I'm plum tuckered.

I think my plan of attack tomorrow will be to go to the National Museum and relax a bit. I'm not ready to tackle another full day in the heat by going to the Pyramids. I'll save that for Thursday or Friday. They also do an evening light show with the Sphinx and the Pyramids, so I might check that out. There is also a CS meeting tomorrow night that I will attend. I've met a CSer in every country and every city so far, so I can't break the streak now.

That's about all I can think of for right now. It's almost 1am here and I'm not completely sure how to get back to my hostel, so I should probably start looking. I know it's around here somewhere...

4 comments:

Unknown said...

Why did you write 'hostel" and not "hotel"? It looks so old French, like a few years after William went to England, ... you know.

Patrick B said...

Because it's a hostel and not a hotel. :)

Unknown said...

I love that you use phrases like "plum tuckered!"

Richard said...

I'm with Elizabeth, "plum tuckered", what a fabulous phrase.