Actually it is, when writing this, because it’s the first day of Eid tomorrow (Friday), but much unlike the Dickensian version, it’s fairly warm and bedlam in the streets. We are in Saida in Southern Lebanon, where we’ve been staying with Laura. Apparently, as it is the first day of a sort of xmas (complete with lights) tomorrow, the streets will be festively awash with the blood of slaughtered lambs – ho ho ho.
As I have been slacking, thought I’d better give a quick update on progress (if any) so far….
We spent three nights in Damascus, in the end in a rather nice hotel as the cheap ones were all full and we decided we deserved it as an antidote to Jordanian hostels and worse Syrian mid-range brothel-type places. Damascus is incredible and has to be seen to be believed but it also gave us a lesson in Middle Eastern profiteering and the need to wise up – as it turns out you can’t always depend on the kindness of strangers. So, armed with the Arabic for 0-10 and the phrase ‘please use the meter’ we moved on to Palmyra out in the desert, East of Damascus.
Palmyra is the best set of Roman ruins in Syria, but we started to tire of looking at blocks of stone in the sand. Palmyra doesn’t have much to recommend itself to the intrepid explorer, despite the best efforts of the Tourist Information Officer, Jameel. Henceforth known as ‘creepy Jameel’, he sermonised to us over a fireside dinner at what turned out to be his restaurant about ‘life with a woman’, how crazy he was before he got married and how he had the insurance policy of getting another wife in the event his first one was sick for a long time. It was when he joked that he would send Paola some Italian porn to her phone that we realized it was time to call it a night.
Two days in Palmyra is a day and a half too long, so we moved on to Lattakia, what turned out to be a very ‘liberal’ (relatively low black-phantom count) laid-back (they sell beer) seaside town. While too cold for a dip in the sea, we hung out with Paola’s friend Laura and very much enjoyed her company. After taking in Salaadin’s castle, we caught the train up the coast and inland to Aleppo. The train set off at 3.30, the sun went down at 4 and we spent the next three hours in darkness interrupted only by the torch light emitted by a strange little man in a yellow jacket, who took a shine to Laura. Well he wasn’t the only one; you could feel the heat of the rioting hormones in the carriage behind us. Paola and I got married on our second day in Jordan, as definitely the easiest answer to the question that comes third in any conversation after, ‘how are you’ and ‘where are you from’. An unmarried foreign woman is considered fair game – accompanied or not. So for the next few days while we travelled with Laura, I took as a second wife. Accepted without question, the men of Syria seemed impressed, and very keen to know what I ate. I decided that steak was the best answer here, being the complete antithesis of the Syrian staple, chick peas, also we had only seen two cows in our whole time in Syria and they looked like they needed improvement in their social standing. I will be following Syrian livestock trends closely.
Aleppo was great, a bit more conservative than Lattakia, but we finally started to get a feel for the unrivalled hospitality that we had been led to expect. We returned South and on to the Crac des Chevaliers, where we spent the night en route to Lebanon.
TBC...
Sunday, 29 November 2009
Friday, 20 November 2009
Syrian Riviera
After two days in Palmyra (we met creepy Jameer, bored ourselves to death and went very annoyed about people trying and managing to rip us off) we pretty much touched the bottom. We even contemplated to leave the Middle East before the set date. BUT.
We arranged to meet Laura (which is living and working as a volunteer in Lebanon since four months) in Lattakia, a 2 million people city on the Mediterranean coast. It's unbelievable how diverse Syria is in terms of landscape and attitude towards us. Here everyone was very open and very nice, even taxi drivers accepted to put on the meter without me having to fight with them carrying a 20kilos rucksack on my back! The city was nothing special, but we managed to have a couple of beers (yes, we are finding it difficult not to drink, even if we became very good) and listened to Laura's stories and experiences. She is working for a palestinian NGO in support of palestinian refugees in Lebanon, but mostly, I was interested in knowing her opinion about the situation of women in the Middle East. We gotta go now...next chapter soon!
We arranged to meet Laura (which is living and working as a volunteer in Lebanon since four months) in Lattakia, a 2 million people city on the Mediterranean coast. It's unbelievable how diverse Syria is in terms of landscape and attitude towards us. Here everyone was very open and very nice, even taxi drivers accepted to put on the meter without me having to fight with them carrying a 20kilos rucksack on my back! The city was nothing special, but we managed to have a couple of beers (yes, we are finding it difficult not to drink, even if we became very good) and listened to Laura's stories and experiences. She is working for a palestinian NGO in support of palestinian refugees in Lebanon, but mostly, I was interested in knowing her opinion about the situation of women in the Middle East. We gotta go now...next chapter soon!
Sunday, 15 November 2009
Confused thoughts
We are in Damascus! We both had the sensation to be in a 'real' city when we arrived, but none of us could actually then describe what that means. The suqs of this city are ancient and run by a frenzy that I now suppose being typical of the whole Middle East world.
We shared a taxi with an Iraqi father and daughter on the way from Amman to Damascus, and she (Rasha) told us their family history and together with it the history of a nation and of the region of the world we are in at the moment. It has been like a punch in the stomach. Some of the things she said about politics and dynamics of relationships between countries in the Middle East have opened up for me a whole new universe of possibilities (unfortunately though, none of them is optimistic).
It took me a while (and a very posh hotel) to recover from yesterday's mosque experience in Damascus. As a woman (not only turists), unless you are already wrapped up in a potato-sack, you not only need to wear decent clothes and cover your head (fair enough), but you have to put on top a sort of blanket and cover your head so as not to show even the smallest portion of hair (some women cover their face COMPLETELY, and I still struggle t understand how they actually see!). To be honest, I think it is a humiliating experience, especially seeing the man counterpart walking around normally without any hassle.
On the other hand, Damascus seems to me to be very liberated, so I haven't really worked out this contrast (will I?). I guess for some reason I thought I could fit in this reality in my cathegories, but I can't, so I'll have togo through the painful process of creating new ones. Or get rid of cathegories all together.
Our main problem here was the fact that, contrary to Jordan, very few people speak English, but after having payed half a kilo of nuts the equivalent of a dinner for two, we are now becoming professional arabic speakers (wishing..!).
We shared a taxi with an Iraqi father and daughter on the way from Amman to Damascus, and she (Rasha) told us their family history and together with it the history of a nation and of the region of the world we are in at the moment. It has been like a punch in the stomach. Some of the things she said about politics and dynamics of relationships between countries in the Middle East have opened up for me a whole new universe of possibilities (unfortunately though, none of them is optimistic).
It took me a while (and a very posh hotel) to recover from yesterday's mosque experience in Damascus. As a woman (not only turists), unless you are already wrapped up in a potato-sack, you not only need to wear decent clothes and cover your head (fair enough), but you have to put on top a sort of blanket and cover your head so as not to show even the smallest portion of hair (some women cover their face COMPLETELY, and I still struggle t understand how they actually see!). To be honest, I think it is a humiliating experience, especially seeing the man counterpart walking around normally without any hassle.
On the other hand, Damascus seems to me to be very liberated, so I haven't really worked out this contrast (will I?). I guess for some reason I thought I could fit in this reality in my cathegories, but I can't, so I'll have togo through the painful process of creating new ones. Or get rid of cathegories all together.
Our main problem here was the fact that, contrary to Jordan, very few people speak English, but after having payed half a kilo of nuts the equivalent of a dinner for two, we are now becoming professional arabic speakers (wishing..!).
Sand castles and shooting stars
We pretty much exhausted Amman after a couple of days, and the dive we managed to book into wasn't endearing itself to us, so we headed South for the desert and the Petra. Entering the ancient site of the lost city you really get a feel what it must have been like for Harrison Ford filming the third Indiana Jones film. Complete with theme tune we had to fend off the postcard hawkers and donkey-ride guys and dodge the merciless horse and cart drivers, carrying their fat american cargoes. That said, it is definitely worth it behold the incredible site of the Treasury (the famous bit) 50 metres high and carved out of the rock face, it is a worldly wonder. The best bit though was prob the hike up to the Monastery and the climb up over it. Once past the ferrel bedouin girl that guarded the mount we watched the sun set over the site while taking tea (and vodka) with Abed, another Bedouin, which provided a good opportunity to actually talk to someone and learn about their culture.
With the taste for desert life, the next stop was Wadi Rum. We toured Lawrence of Arabia country, climbed on it, and spent the night in the desert under the stars. Once fed and entertained by our Bedouin hosts, we decided to brave the great wilderness and lay on our mattresses outside the camp. The night sky was breath-taking and we fell asleep counting shooting stars (i saw more). The moon was a little intrusive, but we managed all the same.
With the taste for desert life, the next stop was Wadi Rum. We toured Lawrence of Arabia country, climbed on it, and spent the night in the desert under the stars. Once fed and entertained by our Bedouin hosts, we decided to brave the great wilderness and lay on our mattresses outside the camp. The night sky was breath-taking and we fell asleep counting shooting stars (i saw more). The moon was a little intrusive, but we managed all the same.
Technical update
Guys we have beaten the system and we are now back online and uncensored! We have also figured out how to let you all post comments - so fill your boots
Thursday, 12 November 2009
One week after
Amman.
Jordan's capital hectically breathes life out of its polluted and histerical lungs. A city of immigrants, an ugly but fascinating passing-through ground where i felt home today, coming back here after just one week of travelling. Jordan is so very different from all I have seen so far, even north Africa. People sometimes (more often if you go off the beaten track) do not speak English or any other European language, but are still willing to help you, or give you a lift, or they simply cry at you a WELCOME. When I say people, it's always men, since I still haven't got a chance to have even the smallest conversation with a woman, apart from a very young beduin girl in Petra, but that was more an argument than a conversation (yes, I AM ashamed!). Beduins, btw, seem to be a thing on its own and we had a chance to get to know them a bit better on two different occasions, in Petra on the highest tent on top of the monastery and in Wadi Rum's desert. Speaking of which, I GOT TO DRIVE A JEEP IN THE DESERT, thanks to a crazy beduin, but this is another story..
Jordan's capital hectically breathes life out of its polluted and histerical lungs. A city of immigrants, an ugly but fascinating passing-through ground where i felt home today, coming back here after just one week of travelling. Jordan is so very different from all I have seen so far, even north Africa. People sometimes (more often if you go off the beaten track) do not speak English or any other European language, but are still willing to help you, or give you a lift, or they simply cry at you a WELCOME. When I say people, it's always men, since I still haven't got a chance to have even the smallest conversation with a woman, apart from a very young beduin girl in Petra, but that was more an argument than a conversation (yes, I AM ashamed!). Beduins, btw, seem to be a thing on its own and we had a chance to get to know them a bit better on two different occasions, in Petra on the highest tent on top of the monastery and in Wadi Rum's desert. Speaking of which, I GOT TO DRIVE A JEEP IN THE DESERT, thanks to a crazy beduin, but this is another story..
salaam alaykum!
Amman seems a friendly place indeed! "Welcome to Jordan" abounds on the streets of the bustling city: from the would-be-mother-figure hotel manageress, charging a "good price" for a room with no hot water or lock on the door, to the young men of the street cordially informing us across the pavement just how much they liked the look of paola's "husband". We were accosted by two such lively fellows while perched high atop the Roman theatre in the downtown city area. Na'theen insisted on taking our photo (to follow) and we were happy to oblige. Communication can prove tricky but you nearly always end up in about the right place, eventually.
Wednesday, 4 November 2009
It was the night before Christmas....
well that's what it feels like, and i can tell you i'm very excited - we're leaving tomorrow! By way of figuring out how this blog thing works, i shall leave you with a taste of the leaving party - i'll put up a link to the rest of them soon...
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