Damascus Diary, Mehraba!

Hi,

I write this from Damascus, the oldest capital city in world, a city which is still very alive, kicking, swirling and driving

A little bit about history of the place before we move on- situated between the Tigris and the Euphrates flourished this most impressive and evolved civilization over 4500 years ago, with many firsts to its credit. Locally, the Euphrates is called the Furat, in just about the same way as Egypt is called Misr.

Damascus serves as the capital of Syria, and is located in the midst of the Arab world, bordering Jordan, Lebanon, Turkey and Iraq. Amman is a two hour drive from Damascus, and so is Beruit.


Old Damascus

Old Damascus’ main landmark is the Souq al-Hamidiyya, a crowded bazaar of narrow lanes, hawkers and high-voltage selling. Jewels, gold, spices, mosaic, silk, scarves, embroidered cloth, hookahs, paintings, Burquas, lingerie, Chinese batteries, dry fruits dot the shop-scape in the Hamidiyya. Adjacent to the market is the magnificent Umayyad Mosque, with its huge courtyard and exquisitely decorated interiors. A significant Christian and Armenian population also lives in Old Damascus, and they appear to be quite at peace with the predominantly Islamic population. Sharp featured and fair, Syrians, especially the women, love to dress well, proper and appropriate and the dressing is on a continuum, from the very westernized coats, jeans and jumpers to the traditional burquas.


The most important remnants of a once glorious civilization are to be found in the National museum in Damascus, most famous amongst them being a tablet with writings from the 14th century BC that uses the world’s first known alphabet, from which all the current alphabets of the world are supposed to have come forth, in some form or the other.


All the kings men

If there is one person in Syria you just cant miss recognizing, it is President Assad. From airports to government buildings to private offices to hotels to taxis to barber shops, Assad in different moods and poses adorns the walls. Many places also carry pictures of papa Assad, Hafez al-Assad, the opportunistic defence minister in the 1970s who took advantage of bickering in the political arena to assume presidency and subsequently legalize the same by winning one candidate elections by record margins. When papa Assad kicked the bucket in 2000, son Assad ascended the throne for a legitimized 7 year term.

The government and the military remain very powerful entities in the country, and there are, privately, allegations of widespread corruption and regimental control in most of the government dealings. It is an open secret that to get a posting as a customs at the Damascus airport requires a bribe of upto a million US dollars equivalent to be paid.


Country roads, take me home

Syria has a fantastic road network, and on highways speeds of 160-180 kmph are common. I covered Damascus-Alleppo, a distance of about 355 kilometers, in less than three hours. The wide and empty roads can be an illusion when it comes to driving and parking in central Damascus. As in most parts of the world, it is considered impolite to honk, and also, as in most parts of the world, road rules and regulations are flouted left, right and center. Parking space is woefully inadequate for the number of vehicles in the city, mostly big cars. Parking is also very expensive, 60 syrian pounds for the first hour and 50 for every subsequent hour (1 US Dollar = 50 Syrian Pounds).

Public transport by way of buses exists, but the workhorse really are the 10 seater matador type Japanese vehicles which ferry passengers across Damascus for as little as 10 pounds. Taxis are abundant and cheap. I was, however, disappointed to see petrol selling at 24 Syrian pounds to a liter (almost Rs 22/liter), a high price by Middle East Gulf standards.



Freedom of expression

Syria has one English language newspaper, the Syria times, published from Sunday to Thursday. It refuses to recognize the existence of Israel and mentions it as occupied Palestine. Predictably, Israel, along with the US, constitutes the favourite whipping boys in the 8 page newspaper. Grammatical and spelling mistakes abound and objectivity in reporting isn’t especially remarkable. The grammatical errors are not surprising, however, as Syria was under French occupation and the standard of French is much better than that of English. There is a lot of sympathy for Iraq, and pan-Arabism is rampant on the pages of the newspaper. Privately, however, people want to get on with life and are none too happy with their isolation from the rest of the world.

Other than in the pages of newspapers, the atmosphere is quite liberal and open. Women are present in many professional institutions in Damascus, but however, the numbers are far less as one moves out of the city



Of hospitality and food

Syrians love their Tea, coffee and smoke and the first step in the famed Arabian hospitality is serving one of those. The food presents a wide variety of dishes, and not surprisingly, most of it is meat based. Vegetarians like me had a hard time explaining what being vegetarian meant, even in famous joints like the Alibaba café in central Damascus. Once I could communicate what being vegetarian meant, there were a whole host of starters, cheese preparations, vegetables, yogurts, potato dishes, mainly cooked in olive oil to choose from. Sweets are plentiful, and very filling. They are mainly made from sugar and wheat, with liberal amounts of pistachio, almonds and other dry fruits. It is extremely difficult to stop once you commence eating and represents one of the big challenges of being here.


India lives

I have traveled a fair bit in this part of the world, and also some, and rarely have I not come across Indians who are settled there, or working, or into some odd jobs. I use the term ‘Indian’ here in a very generic sense, to mean PLUs (people like us) and to signify people from the subcontinent, Indians, Pakistanis, Bangladeshis, Sri Lankans.

That however, doesn’t mean that India doesn’t live here- called ‘Hind’ locally, everyone recognizes India and gives a welcoming smile once he learns of my country of origin. My first surprise, however, was on seeing a street called ‘Jawaharlal Nehru street’ in a posh , upmarket embassy area of Damascus, a few hundred meters from the Barada river. When I enquire, I am told he was ‘some great leader’ and that he was not from Syria.

India lives more, and vibrantly as well, in the form of Bollywood, extremely popular here. A cinema hall in central Damascus is currently screening a cheap B grade Sunny Deol flop of a few years ago, “Arjun Pandit”.

India also moves here in Syria and help Syrians move on their Atlas and Hero bicycles. Very commonly used in Damascus, especially Old Damascus, they are very much our flag bearers here. Number plates on vehicles are bilingual; carrying the Arabic numerals (1,2,3 which we normally use) and the Hindu numerals, which incidentally are the official number forms in Syria. I was also rather amused to see Indian Vanaspati ghee being sold here !


Globalization, (ya) ho !

And finally, in the globalized world of about to be 2005, here are two bits of information - I could not find Coca Cola in Damascus. Syria has its own version, called Mandarin, and tastes better than Coke, but nevertheless, the point remains that Coca Cola is not available. And second, strict control on the Internet service providers has meant that I am unable to access my Yahoo or Hotmail email accounts from most of the places here- I have to dial in an international call to neighboring Lebanon in order to access my free email accounts.


Epilogue
Much before I landed, I had romantic impressions of Damascus, of it being a place having archaeological artifacts by the thousands, of an overwhelming feeling of timelessness, history strewn all over. Now, after a few days in the city, I get the impression that ancient history is far from peoples mind, what is important out here is a longing to soar their wings, to express themselves on a world stage, to find expression to their spirit of enterprise and to soar into the wide world beyond.


Hope you enjoyed reading this diary,
With best regards

Deepak

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