Damascus by Night

How lucky am I to have found the best hostel in Syria? This place is called the Al-Rabbie and it's just the latest inhabitant of a beautifully maintained 600 year old manor located downtown amidst a motley collection of tea houses, sandwich shops, and boutique stores of all kinds. The focus of the building is a huge courtyard snaked with ivy, flowering lemon trees, a fountain, and marble floors. From there you can take tea or juice from their private bar (no alcohol), share a sheesha with friends, or bring back a curried chicken sandwich and a coke from next door and do a little people watching. I'm sharing a 4 person dorm room on the second floor and it's positively opulent with a carved wooden ceiling, big windows with even bigger curtains, and the most comfortable bed I've had in weeks. Simply put, I'd never leave the building if this city wasn't it's equal in every way.

The first night there I met an American named Matt who is living there for a month while he attends the university to learn a little Arabic. It's just for fun and is a great place to meet young people who likely speak some English too. He's done well and his new best friend is an extremely energetic young Turk named Raffie who's father works in the Iraqi parliament. Raffie is a citizen of several different countries and tonight I'm supposed to meet his family to try his mothers cooking. I'm lacking a cell phone however so I'll give it a 50/50 shot of happening as it's really hard to coordinate my schedule with those around me.

So, that night Matt, Raffie, a couple Norwegians that I share the room with, and a couple other drifters all rode out to the Christian quarter of the 'Old City' where all the bars are located. This part of town is made of old 2 story buildings with granite sidewalks and kiosks every 20 feet selling snacks and booze that's a fraction of the price sold inside the clubs. Wine coolers are very popular here and they've got a wider variety than we've got back home. They sell beers, premixed vodka/redbulls, powerful 20% fruity vodka drinks, beers/whiskey blends, and all can be had for about $1.50. One of those 20% vodka drinks is enough to get the night started and we hit up a couple bars before going to a club that was mostly vacant. The music was pretty nice and I danced for a good long time.

When we got out of the club a tow truck was waiting in front of Raffie's illegally parked car and was most likely waiting for us to get there to pay him off before he took the car. In both Syria and Iraq the Baath political party is very powerful and having his father in the Iraqi parliament is enough reason for Raffie to feel pretty invulnerable to minor police problems. Naturally Raffie threatened to call his father to have this guy taken care of somehow (I can't imagine what he would do but it all sounds so dramatic) and after a good long discussion on it the tow driver left unsatisfied and unpaid. On a couple occasions Raffie was pulled over when he had Matt in the car with him and that alone was enough reason for the police to let him go... foreigners often call their embassies and make loads of paperwork for any officer caught in their sights so it's usually easier to just pull over the next guy instead.

Matt and I got to the hostel around 4 AM and grabbed some pizza for 25 cents while waiting 30 minutes to be let in the front door. I slept in late the next morning and then took a walk to the 'Old City' for some afternoon entertainment. The Old City is about 4 square miles in size and is surrounded by crumbling defensive walls of old and cement barricades keeping cars from driving inside. It's an interesting blend of residential buildings, mosques, a walled fortress on a small hill, many many shops, several souqs (bazaars), taverns, and parks. I walked 20 minutes from my hostel and reached the western gate and the entrance to the largest of the souqs which was basically a long and winding promenade lined with shops, mobbed by shoppers and tourists, and sealed in by a gracefully arched iron ceiling. Some light streams in through windows in the ceiling, and also through an impressive array of bullet holes put there by French fighter planes in 1925. The locals must like the effect because they never bother to fix it.

I'm not buying anything so the shops didn't interest me terribly though I was tempted to stop in one of the music shops to see if they sold ukuleles. My favorite part was dropping into the chaotic Bakdash ice cream shop and getting a cone of vanilla rolled in toasted nuts. I like to buy food at the busiest places that I see because that's usually a good sign. Overall I didn't think that it was especially good but the ice cream was uniquely fluffy because the shop workers stretch, toss, and twist the ice cream by hand. At the end of the souq was the famed Umayyad Mosque shining in the sun and positively covered in pigeons.

This mosque is one of the holiest sites in all of Islam, and one of the oldest as it was built in 705 AD. After spending some time outside admiring it's minarets, licking my ice cream, and nervously watching pigeons fly overhead I entered a smaller site on the side, the tomb of Saladin. I mentioned in an older post that Saladin was famed warrior/scholar/king who led many decisive victories over the crusaders. The tomb was small but ornate and afterward I got into a long and awkward conversation with a retired school teacher who constantly spit as he talked. He told me about some other graves at the site and finally I was able to pass him onto an Iranian family that videotaped him talking for 15 minutes before realizing that he was never going to stop. The worst part was that he didn't even speak the same language as the Iranians and they clearly did not know how to make him stop... they were paralyzed by politeness and I feel guilty for drawing so much satisfaction watching them sweat it out.

Finally I made it inside the Mosque and didn't even need to pay the $1 entrance fee because they didn't want to break my 500 pound ($10) bill. The mosque's courtyard was simply amazing. It was a huge marble walking area lined with columns and filled with religious pilgrims, playing children, napping mothers, and tourists snapping pictures. The sun was especially bright in this place as it bounded off of golden mosaics and polished stone. I felt very happy in the moment. After that I walked through the cavernous carped prayer rooms and viewed the resting place of John the Baptist's mummified head. I hear that several places claim to have his head so I'll just assume that he was a hydra.

The hot sun was starting to get to me so I slowly wandered back to my hotel and met up with the Norwegians for tea, sheesha, and a long long conversation about America's health care problems... a subject that I would never bring up but feel compelled to shed some light on for the curious. We never reached a conclusion on what should be done, but I suggested that maybe things will be alright.

Later that night I went out with Raffie, Matt, and a couple German girls from the hostel and we danced and drank until 5 AM. I had some requests so when we got back I played ukulele in the street and hopefully woke up half the neighborhood. I think that I'm beginning to love this town. Today however most of the group left town to visit Lebanon but I didn't feel like leaving the hostel just yet. I've got a few day trips to do still and then I'm headed north while they are heading south. For most of the day I nursed my hangover, watched a couple episodes of Twin Peaks on my iPod, and lamented that this is a holiday and most everything is closed. Hopefully I'll get something accomplished tonight.