Beirut via Damascus

It was a Syreal experience*. No one there eats Syreal*.

Syriously though, I had a great trip. Left for Damascus International Wednesday night, arrived Thursday morning (upgraded to Business Class cuz that's how I roll when they overbook the flight but then one guy who booked B-Class doesn't show up and they give me his seat last minute instead of giving me a huge voucher and rebooking me through Paris).

I spent Thursday and Friday in Old City Damascus, walking through the mosques and souks, buying both kinds of wraps (woven and meat).

Friday got a cab to Beirut. And Beirut was lovely. It reinforced my suspicion that State Department travel advisories are maybe a little politically biased. Trekked around the downtown and then to some surrounding cities, including Byblos, which is pretty high up on my Favorite City Names to Pronounce list. Right up there with Plovdiv. I like to say them both with a Slavic accent.

What we didn't do was go to the South, which was originally the plan for Sunday. We were going to drive the border and go to this Hezbollah museum and play in the land mines. But since it was Sunday the UN permit office was closed and we were not allowed to go.

Then on Monday night got back to Damascus. Chilled. Flew back to London the next morning.

I learned a lot too, mostly because I was hanging out with all these Middle East and Arabio-obsessed academics who enjoy, among no other things:

1. Talking about the Middle East.
2. Studying Arabic.
3. Watching Al Jazeera in Arabic.
4. Helping each other work through Middle East and Arabic related projects and studies.
5. Reading Arabic newspapers and books.
6. Traveling the region to look at old Ottoman and Roman buildings and palaces.
7. Scowling at Saudis and Gulfies and sometimes French people.
8. Eating.
9. Going to bed at 10.30.
10. Renewing their visas and trading visa/consulate/embassy-related stories and advice.

I could only relate to the scowling part and the eating part, but those activities can really fill the day.

I also went to a hammam, which I view as one gigantic positive to come from the oppression of women -- it's good to see men taking a little time for themselves not on the couch, in front of the TV or working on their lawn (especially when one considers how pointless, expensive, wasteful and hazardous lawns have become). We Westerners really should adopt the weekly practice of sitting in steam, getting abrasive scrub downs by large shirtless Kurdish men, and drinking hot tea while sitting around in our towels. If someone combined a hammam with a good old fashioned Turkish barbering (and charged in Syrian Pounds, in East London, and had a no Saudis/Gulfies/Frenchies-allowed policy), I'd be there every week.

Pictures to come.

*My dad's bday is in 2 days. These bad puns are kind of in honor of him.