Almost 5 months, time to blog...

I'm sure I have something at least mildly interesting to say after having been here for almost 5 months now, but the main goal for this post, is itself. I'm trying to break the inertia that has kept me from blogging regularly... ok, at all, since I've been here.

I can hear a small protest going on in front of the US embassy (the language institute where I work is just down the road). It's middle of the day here, and the current gathering is the third in about a week. These shows of defiance against the evil enemy are government orchestrated and given the resources backing them kind of pathetic. I guess I should be happy that the people here are able to freely express themselves, even if it's only when your message furthers the current regimes' objectives... right?

As I have been communicating to some family and friends, my life here has been little altered by recent events. I live in a quiet community and not too far from work (where I also meet my Arabic tutor for lessons). The past couple of weeks have seen a slight up-tick in activity in Damascus itself, but most of the noise continues to take place in cities far from the capital and in a few suburbs around the capital.

From talking with folks both Syrian and ex-pats, the opinions of where this situation may go are no too varied. They range from an Iraqi style civil war to a bloody crackdown by the regime, balanced with enough normality so as to bury the underlying social/political fissures for at least another few years.

I originally thought that only about 10% of the population supported the government and that the remainder were against, with a split between those willing to risk their lives to express themselves and those who would sit back and hope their more defiant counterparts would succeed. However, I had an interesting conversation with a student of mine last night. Like most students here he is fairly liberal and well educated. He commented that, while he recognizes the shortcomings in the current system, that people going out into the streets and yelling and at times shooting (I have a feeling he believes that there is more shooting from the anti-government side, than I do) is not the right way forward and that calmer heads need to prevail. This may be an allusion to the "civil war" scenario, or may be his own feelings that despite its deficiencies, the Al-Assad regime isn't that bad and must be given an chance to reform over time. This conversation has made me begin to rethink my hypothesized distribution of political attitudes across the Syria citizenry. It has also made me wonder about the possible frustration that those more defiant elements of the country must feel when faced with opposition from folks who agree with them in long-term vision, but perhaps not in terms of how to get there, or who may not feel the same urgency to act.

A Danish Christmas in Damascus

I celebrated a Danish Christmas in Syria this year. This really only amounted to exchanging gifts on New Year’s eve instead of the following day, and eating warm rice pudding for dinner. I unfortunately couldn’t convince Charlene to dance around a Christmas tree holding hands, singing songs as is tradition.

The weather here has been chilly, and although I was forewarned, it has made nights in the 40’s with no heat, no less bearable.

I am sharing a three bedroom apartment with my girlfriend Charlene and two of her classmates from university in Denmark. They study Arabic and Communications and have been out here since September as part of a year abroad for their program. Needless to say my Danish is coming along swimmingly… I’ve picked up two or three words in two weeks and I can’t pronounce them correctly.

Fortunately, the Arabic is fairing a bit better. Each day more vocabulary is coming back to me. The dialect here is fairly different than the standard Arabic that I have been studying, but basic vocabulary works, and anyone who can read will understand my “formal Arabic”… that is assuming that I pronounce things correctly, which is no small task.

On my second weekend here Charlene, her parents (who came to visit for 6 days), and I traveled to Palmyra (Tadhmur in Arabic) in the northeast of the country. The city served as an important center and tax collection point for trade from East to West, during the Roman Empire. Salah-Adin eventually conquered the city and it became an outpost for the expanding Muslim empire, and an enormous castle was erected atop a peak overlooking the site of the former Roman city, which at some point was largely covered in sand.

The Roman ruins are quite impressive. Thus far in my travels only the ruins in Tarragona (Spain) match them for their beauty, and none compare in size (I haven’t been to Rome, and although the expanse of Petra (Jordan) is breathtaking, they aren’t Roman).

I apparently arrived two weeks too late to easily snap up a job as an English teacher. It seems that four big language institutes completed their teacher hiring before I arrived, so I am continuing to look for opportunities. I may offer private tutoring, which I am told I could charge $18-$20/hr. I was quite surprised that some Damascenes would be willing to fork over that much money, but an American with a good education and teaching experience is apparently quite rare here… who would’ve thought? To provide some context a large bottle of water here costs 40 cents, a chicken sandwich $1. I can eat pretty easily for about $3/day as long as I don’t buy any sweets. Given the presence of ten sweet shops (Heluwayat) within five minutes walk of the house I am continually testing my self control, and when the Danish sweets Charlene’s parents brought at Christmas time run out I could be in trouble.

My recovery from knee surgery continues, and given the fact that I live on the side of a mountain, I am getting no shortage of climbing exercise. I joined a gym down the street from the house. It’s about 400 square feet and packed with old weight machines, but at a pricey $14/mo it should do the trick, and my muscles (or what’s left of them) are reminding me this evening that I haven’t worked out in 4 months.

Before I left Washington I obtained a six month multiple-entry visa from the Syrian embassy. Unfortunately, if you want to stay for more than two weeks continuously you are required to register. This registration requires I have a lease for an apartment, but according to the landlord, who has no issue with me living in the apartment, Syrian law does not allow the cohabitation of non-familial, non-married co-eds. This on top of the fact that my two weeks have passed may prove to aggravate me over the next week or so while I figure things out. Anecdotal evidence suggests that the two week limit is very flexible, so I more worried about how much it is going to cost to get my name on “A” lease. Alternatives costing $100 have already been suggested, but given this amount should feed me for a month, I’m going to keep investigating.

Tea Sugar Ederim, Istanbul

When heading home from Yemen two weeks ago I asked the Turkish Airways flight attendant how to say, "thank you" in Turkish, as she was serving me my beverage. She rambled something quite complicated sounding, I grimaced, half smiling and said, "thank you."

On my way back to Yemen, I stopped in Turkey for a short visit, and I'm proud to say that after spending two full days in Istanbul I can now say, "thank you" in Turkish, or at least get close enough to evoke appreciation for the effort from the local population (sounds something like "tea sugar ederim"). In a word, "go." Go to Istanbul. Surrounded by water on the majority of its sides (it has many, see map (Istanbul and its suburbs includes all thee tips. Commuting by ferry is very common)), rich in history, and home to a truly unique modern culture, it should not be missed (hmmm, I should write for the tourism board).

The city, known during the height of the Roman Empire as Constantinople, served as the center (not geographical) of power, advancement in the sciences and culture, and the struggle for the dominance and survival of both the Roman and the Ottoman Empires. Following the defeat of Christendom in the city in the 15th century, Istanbul rivaled the most holy sites of Islam in their effect on the spread of the religion. The remaining buildings, ruins, names, and language all bear witness to this history and the continued struggle between East and West to shape the future of Istanbul and of greater Turkey.

The picture above, taken from the rooftop of my hostel (Best Island Hostel) (note: Istanbul is not chea. Expect to pay at least $14USD for a hostel bed) shows the Aya Sophia (or Hagia Sophia). Built in the 6th century as a christian basilica, it was later converted into a mosque (1453 AD), and now serves as a museum (one of the many secularizing changes initiated by Kamal Ataturk, the founder of the modern Turkish republic, in the late 1930's). Situated to the south, across the area once serving as a roman circus, is the Blue Mosque (left, in the background). Also of note was the Topkapi Palace which served as the home, and for some time, the center of administration for the Ottoman Sultans. It houses, now as a museum, the most impressive collection of jeweled artifacts (swords, clothing, thrones, baby cradles) I've ever seen (I suppose I haven't seen many such collections, but I have a feeling that this one is up there nonetheless). Also of interest was the exhibit on the Sutlans' wardrobes as they changed over 400 some-odd years.

Culturally, modern Istanbul is an oddity or perhaps a novelty for me. Most of my time living in the Muslim world has been in a relatively conservative city in Palestine, and in very conservative Yemen. In these societies Islam defines daily routines, social interactions and relationships. So to experience a snip-it of life in a country claiming to be 98% Muslim, but yet seemingly so secular was at once refreshing and bewildering.

How could a Muslim society accept men and women freely dressing how they saw fit? How could a Muslim society permit unhindered access to alcohol? These are just a couple of the more superficial observations one can make. They fail to delve into the more fundamental differences that are embodied in the way people view social relationships and norms. The concept I have been slowly defining of what exactly is a Muslim society has been challenged. Many Muslims would argue that Turkey's is not a Muslim society, and I suppose many Turks would argue the same. In the end, perhaps that is just the point, it's not a Muslim society, but a secular one, just as the U.S. and Western Europe are not Christian societies, but secular ones formed in some ways by the Christian tradition (this is not to say that no other religious traditions have left their mark at differing periods of history). Modern Turkey continues to define its identity, and it is fascinating to experience and watch. Check the news on Turkey, and every day you will see the struggle between secularists and those calling for a society more closely governed by religious tradition.

So... two days of rich history, natural beauty, and a fascinating, vibrant, evolving modern culture.... Tea Sugar Ederim, Istanbul!

My bus finally broke down... in the desert.

I've finally returned Palestine, and as such, I will attempt to get back to my blogging ways. My return was delightful, miserable, and as always eventful. I returned via Egypt, having heard from several people that the southern border crossing into Israel is relatively easier to pass through compared to entering through Tel Aviv. I was a bit worried my third visit, the second in less than two months, might throw up red flags with Israeli authorities. Thanks to my mother's job with Delta (please think of using them the next time your "travel plans call for air travel") I flew from NYC to Cairo first-class. As I picked up my copy of the Financial Times, and flipped through their monthly magazine insert "How to Spend It", while sipping a cool glass orange juice, I was relieved to see that finally someone appreciated me as a consumer with discerning tastes. I was quite impressed with the new line of special production bicycles by Porsche, but less impressed with the luxory watches on review. You really can't have enough finely built, handcrafted time pieces.

Despite my fully reclineable seat and not having to deal with the rabble in coach (... I don't even know why the let them on the plane) I spent a fairly sleepless night. I arrived in Cairo and left as soon as I could. Before doing so I made sure to sweat... a lot, and to play the video game-like challenge of crossing streets in a city with over 20 million people, and even more cars. I'm fairly confident that my survival is owed no less to the many hours I spent as a child playing Frogger on our 1982 vintage IBM PC at home. I took an overnight bus to a little town called Dahab, situated on the southerneastern coast of Sinai (only an hour north of Sharm Al-Sheikh, of presidential summit fame).

Dahab features a number of world class diving and snorkeling spots and is a backpacker's favorite. I spent 4 days here. The first catching up on sleep, the second two playing in the water, and day 4 relaxing. I hung out with a couple of American guys and a Canadian girl while I was there. The 29 year old from Ohio was quite a character, and a traveler. He's an avid climber, and enthralled me with his account of his ascent of Everest. He didn't make the summit (only the final advance camp (about 24,000 ft)), but I have a feeling he will eventually do it, and make it down to tell the tale. The other American was in the 9th month of an around the world adventure that has included stops on all seven continents... yes, Antarctica.

I was tempted to go diving, but for a hundred dollars for two dives, i decided to stick with snorkeling ( a hundred dollars is 3 weeks worth of food in nablus) ). The time I spent in the water was amazing. I was really impressed with the wide array of tropical fish, some decent coral formations, and the sheer extent of the underwater environment. I snorkeled around a sight called blue hole/the bells... amazing. There is a coral shelf about 3 feet deep which leads to a cliff/ledge that then drops to over 300 feet. It was unbelievable to see all the bright coral and aquatic life just drop into a bright blue abyss. It was a strange sensation to hover over this cliff feeling as if the laws of physics were somehow turned upside down I could plummet into the deep blue.

The two and a half hour bus ride from Dahab to Taba (on the border with Israel) took almost 5 hours. Our bus came to a stop to give water to a stranded truck driver (remember we are in the middle of the desert). As we are preparing to get back underway a group 6 foreigners comes walking up from the back of the bus demanding to be let out... I look back the bus is filling with smoke... I had just drank the last of my water about an hour ago. I knew I would eventually be on a bus that would break down. I figured it would probably be one of the Boston-NYC Chinatown buses. The thing is that, I-95 going through Connecticut is just a fundamentally different environment than the Sinai Desert.

After the smoke had more or less abated we were hearded onto the bus, by the driver who was visibly agitated due to our delay. The following 5 minutes would be the most frightening bus ride I've had since I thought I was going to die on a chicken bus in the Andes coming down the mountains from Quito in Ecuador. Contrary to my prior belief, there are hills and mountains in the desert, and there are roads that take sharp turns, and apparently there are bus drivers who are willing to bet lives on timely arrivals. For a couple of minutes I really thought the bus had lost its brakes. At least I wasn't going to die of dehydration on the side of the highway...

I took me forever to get out of Egypt, as one poor guy labored away stamping passports while 4 other border workers looked on, apparently managing logistics. I lost track of the number of times people cut in front of me. The line morphed from 3 separate lines to 2 to 1 and back to 3, all for the same station in the 30 minutes I was waiting. I won't even go into the hastle I created for myself by asking for a special re-entry stamp... wasn't worth the $15 it would have saved me. Putting my best game face on I entered the Israeli border control station. All smiles, I made a sarcastic joke about not being with the tour group entering at the same time as me and passed through the metal detectors. Of course they wanted to go through my bags.

Then came time to step up to the plate and get my stamp. The early twenties-something girl behind the glass asked me what I was doing and where I was going. As she looked at my last exit stamp she then became intrigued, "Where are you staying in Eilat (the Israeli town on the border)." I had a hostel picked out... easy question. "Can I see your return ticket to the states?"... Electronic ticket, I don't have a print out of the itenerary. Next question please. A bit befuddled, but not looking as though she was prepared to call in the reserves she leans over to the girl next to her and starts talking. The two of them had tones in their voice that suggested that something was awry, but it didn't appear as though the system had me flagged, and I was all smiles... what could they do. I pretty much ran out the place and didn't even look to see if she gave me a 1 month or 3 month visa until I was at the bus station in Eilat.

Getting from Eilat to Jerusalem was uneventful except for the peculiar anxiety that seemed to permeate the Israelis around me. There was a rush to get on the bus, a rush to get off the bus. The girl behind me in line at the rest stop was climbing on my back waiting to purchase her yogurt. Every step I took forward, she took two. I felt as though if I had bent down to pick up some change I would have been leap frogged by atleast ten people by the time I stood back up.

The first week in Nablus has been pretty calm. I spent the first night in my old apartment. My favorite old roommate was prompt in letting me know that there had been no prior notice of my arrival (which wasn't my fault) and that since the apartment was now "full" (which is up for debate), I would only be able to stay for the night. I thanked him for keeping me abreast of the situation. I have spent the past four nights at the apartment of an orginization that has a good relationship with the university. The apartment acts as a homestead for international travelers coming to Nablus for short periods of time. All of the visitors so far have been French accept for the interpretive dance couple who were from England. I don't know how long this will last, but I do have my own small room and it is relatively clean... so I'm not complaining.

I've started teaching an English class at the university, and it is good to be back in the classroom. I had my first Arabic tutoring session, and that appears as though it should work out nicely. Congratulations if you made this far. I admire your stamina and promise to do my updates fairly regularly so that you're not subjected to book-length posts in the future. Hope all are well.

peace,
ryan

Follow the Women

So, unbelievably, my time here in Nablus has come to an end (at least for this trip... I'm still pondering whether I'm coming back or not). This past week has been a fairly full one (the weekends do tend to drag, a problem I will have to rectify if I do come back). The biggest event was by far the presence of over 150 women from 25 different countries in Nablus. The women were participating in a campaign for womens' and children's rights, and peace in the Middle East. The gimmick is that they are riding their bikes (they do get bused between locations, but it's a great event nonetheless).

This is a pretty big deal in a city where women are looked down upon if they ride a bike. The one reason for this social stigma that I heard can be requested in writing, as I don't want to offend any of those with more delicate sensibilities. Fortunately, the ride went off without a hitch. The women were supposed to enter through Huwarra checkpoint and meet their bikes (which were being shipped in trucks around the city for fear that they wouldn't be let into the city through the checkpoint). The morning of the event we received word that the women had decided they were going to ride through the checkpoint, "they hadn't come all this way to simply go visit historic districts and watch dance troupes from the local children's organization. They were going to make a point." Interestingly enough, when they showed up at the checkpoint the Israelis more or less let them right through.

Besides the horrid sunburn I got on my recently shaved head, the rest of the day was great. I got brush up on my Spanish with the contingent from the Catalan region of Spain, and learned a few words of Turkish. I'm not going to lie, I was just a bit depressed that evening when all the women left... I will be visiting Turkey at some point soon.

My depression aside, you should check out this group (www.followthewomen.com) and you can see the press release I wrote at http://youth.zajel.org/Study_visits/studyvisits26.htm. If you have any connections to media outlets, this group could use your help, and deserves to get more press than they do.

This past Friday I headed over to a local community service organization called Tomorrow's Youth Organization (http://www.tomorrowsyouth.org/4.html). It is being run in-country by a couple of girls from the U.S. (I mentioned Shauna, one of the organizers, in the previous post). They were having an open house so I headed over to release some energy and play with some of the kids. As always there were a few rascals (Dad, when you called me I had a couple of kids throwing leaves and flowers on my neck and poking me in the back, hence my seeming a bit distracted). I have to say I was really impressed with how well the kids behaved. I've had a much harder time telling that kid to give me the ball, or put the stick down (please remember I still can't count past 6 at this point) in other situations.

More picks of the kiddos and the women of Follow the Women on my Picasa web albums!

peace, ry