“Ahlan wah-sahlan.” This is an often extended greeting when entering one's shop, home or even after inquiries as to where one is from. Simply, it means “welcome” but truly, it means something like “be as family; we will make your path easy.” It is a warm, kind and generous extension of hospitality that is almost always sincerely extended. It was this phrase that I heard and experienced consistently and often as I traveled through Syria and Jordan during my two weeks of Christmas holiday vacation. And, more often than not, it was gratefully, humbly received as Uli, my companion and I arrived at various places tired, unshowered and hungry! Suffice it to say, I had a fantastic time of travels, not a small part of which included coming to fully understand the meaning of “ahlan wah-sahlan.”
ALEPPOUli (Ulrike, a fellow student at N.E.S.T.) and I began our trip by going to
Aleppo, Syria. I, the lucky American, had the pleasure of holding the group back at the small border in the north, due to the U.S.'s excellent relations with Syria. The Syrian government has decided to treat Americans applying for visas as America treats Syrians applying for visas. (Free and immediate processing of visas for North Koreans!) This means waiting anywhere from 3 to 12 hours at the border. Okay, so not so much “ahlan wah-sahlan” from the Syrian government, but the guards were slightly compassionate...lMy seemingly infinitely patient companions (Elias, Lilit and Uli) cheerfully passed the time chatting and trying to stand in the sun for warmth while I, struck by some minor version of the flu, tried to sleep a bit on the dirty bench in the border office. We were in luck, it seemed, as the visa came through in a mere 4 hours. Wahoo! And so, we were off. Elias negotiated a minibus ride to Homs, where we would then catch a bus to Aleppo. 3ish hours later, we arrived at night in the unbelievably cold air. After the temperate weather in Beirut, my skin was thin! We made our way to the guesthouse of a church which is pastored by a N.E.S.T. graduate, Rev. Bcharra. He gave us an old mobile phone to use so that we could call if we had any problems. “I hate having guests in the winter,” he said. Why? Well, because the guest apartment had no heat! Oy vey! After numerous cups of tea and a few layers of clothes, we were sufficiently warm to fall asleep.
We visited the Old City and its ancient souq (market), where we had the novel (to us anyway) experience of seeing a goat slaughtered in the narrow walkway (see pictures). We discovered that, in this society whose media is significantly censored by its government, nearly every apartment has a large satellite dish (see again, pictures). It looks like people are communicating with outer space! We met a schoolteacher, Assan, who, in his quest to improve his English (which he in turn teaches his students, along with many other subjects), takes it upon himself to speak to any foreigner he comes across. We were lost and looking for a restaurant and he offered to show us the way and, in the process of doing so, took out a script he'd painstakingly written that shared how Islam is a religion of peace and those called “terrorists” are not true Muslims. It really wrenched my heart to listen to this man take every opportunity he could to portray his religion more accurately to any and all non-Muslims he could come in contact with. I admired him for his devotion and desire to do as much as he could to contribute toward better and more peaceful relations between worlds which are so often portrayed in opposition.
We also visited the remains of
Simon the Stylite's ascetic lifestyle. One of the first ascetics to become well-known, Simon the Stylite built a tall pillar on top of which he stood in an effort to remove himself from the world. People from far away would visit him for his wise contemplations and, eventually, a monastery and church were built around the remains of his pillar. Our taxi driver never came to pick us up and so we ended up hitching a ride on the back of a truck to the nearest village. We had a good time watching the world go by at 40 mph with the wind whipping our faces!
Our time in Aleppo was mainly filled by time spent with friends. Attending a Christmas concert at Elias' church and Christmas with his family were definitely among the highlights. We were treated to a delicious meal and met many people in the process. At the end of the day, Uli and I parted from our friends and took a night bus to Amman, where we would begin the next segment of our holiday adventure.
AMMANWe arrived in Amman tired and regretting the decision of the night bus (my bad!). We awaited our host (friend Ashraf's cousin) and, initially wondered how he would be able to know who we are. We were worried, that is, until we realized that 1) We were the only non-Arab looking people and 2) We were the only women not covered from head to toe in fabric. As it was, Hanna had no trouble picking us out and introduced himself to us. We returned to his apartment where we met his wife, Manal and their beautiful 8-month-old daughter Nuha. They fed us breakfast, let us shower and left us to make up for our short night of sleep, but not before giving us a mobile phone for communication and telling us how we might visit our first destination,
Mt. Nebo, a short distance from Amman. We took a nap and afterwards, set out to see the
promised land from Moses' vantage point.
PETRAThe next day, Hanna brought us to the bus station and we headed off for
Petra, the famed city carved from rock. Wow! It's amazing what one can do with a hammer, a chisel and some persistence! We met many people in shops who extended hospitality in the form of tea and conversation. Whether we purchased something or not wasn't so much the issue. This became a recurring theme in our travels. We met so many people. There was the man who had worked as a cook for the U.S. Army in Baghdad; Muhammad, the man who was maxed out on his allowed 4 wives (Islam only permits 4) but wished for more; the two men who tried to get us to go for a sunset barbecue in a deserted part of town (”Oh! yeah, sure! That sounds really great and not at all sketchy!”); the couple from Seattle (!) who were traveling around the world, and; 'Ali, the bedouin father who gave us the “local price” on a can of tahineh and spoke proudly of his 4 children in college. All in all, it was a fun journey, despite the touts and lack of student discount at the entrance.
After Petra, we made our way down to Wadi Rum (Rum Desert), where we rode camels for two days and spent a night with the
bedouins. Wow! It was pretty cool to be traversing the desert on a camel. If one ignored the 4x4 jeeps going by full of tourists snapping photographs, one could almost imagine what it was like to be a *real* bedouin. Let me tell you something though: 5 hours of riding on a camel isn't all it's cracked up to be, but the scenery is pretty nice (Although, I have a sneaking suspicion that one could see the same thing in Nevada but, hey, I was on a CAMEL in ARABIA! COOL!). We learned special camel talk that consisted of making a kind of “khhh” sound in the back of one's throat, mixed in with the occasional “echoo!” In the process, I met a South African couple who have their doubts about the ending of
apartheid and a man from San Francisco who could play the oud. The end of our trip found us back at Rum village, our starting point, nearly 3 hours later than anticipated. This wouldn't really bother me, except that we were planning on hitching a ride back to Amman from the highway (as there is little to know regular traffic between the two locations) and the sun would be setting in about an hour and a half. Yikes! We high-tailed it to the highway where we were befriended by curious boys selling potatoes. One of them, about 14 years old, insisted on giving me his phone number so that I could call him once I reached Amman. (Uh, okay, I could, in some societies, be his mother). They helped us to write “Amman” in Arabic on the back of Uli's notebook in the hopes of letting passersby know where we were trying to go. We eventually flagged down a truck, whose driver, Ibrahim, agreed to take us along. While we could have chosen a speedier vehicle (it took us about 5 hours to make the normally 2 hour trip, due to the 45,300kg of sugar we were hauling), we were sufficiently delivered to our destination after learning about Ibrahim's marital problems and penchant for collecting strange videos on his phone.
DEAD SEAWe had planned on leaving Jordan the next day but Hanna insisted that we spend a day with the family. The next day was Manal's birthday and we spent it at the Dead Sea. Wow! It's really salty! We gave our legs mud masks with the valuable clay formed on the beach and waved hello to Jericho on the other side. It's only a half-hour's swim to the other side but it's hard to make it, for the bullets that would come at you from the Israelis.
That night was New Years and we had a nice celebration with the family, dancing with Nuha (okay, just me) and generally enjoying one another's company. We had a great time together, ringing in 2008.
All in all, our trip to Jordan was even richer than I expected. The sites were wonderful, but also, we were so lucky to have such nice people taking care of us. Without even knowing who we were, Hanna and Manal opened their home and lives to us. We left Jordan, saying goodbye to new friends who taught me a lot about hospitality.
DAMASCUS
Our trip back to Syria was preceded by yet another wait at the border for my visa. We spent the 6 hours of waiting at a nearby café, playing cribbage and recounting our experiences. We were both surprised at the noticeable difference in atmosphere between Syria and Jordan. In Syria, there are pictures of the
president everywhere, like
Big Brother watching over you and, indeed, I've heard from travelers that they'd been followed as they toured the country. The people were not as readily friendly -- that is, until you began to talk, after which you would be invited for some coffee and, almost always told “ahlan wah-sahlan”. The atmosphere, overall, was laced with tension which one Syrian friend told me was fear. The society, generally, lives with a sense of oppression -- it's natural when the last “election” carried one name on the ballot and you could either choose “yes” or “no” (and, with the computerized system, sometimes the “no” button didn't work!). As I said, we didn't really notice it until we went to Jordan, where people smiled much more easily and were almost always helpful without asking anything in return. Overall, their was a greater sense of stability. I extend kudos to this country, which has absorbed so many
Palestinian refugees that they now make up 40% of the populations.
So,
Damascus found us roaming the Old City streets once again. The narrow, winding walkways made it easy to get lost but one didn't mind for the magic of the environment. In the city where the
Apostle Paul began his new calling and Islamic scholars formed a significant community, the city oozes history. Our two days did not do it justice. While there, though, we met an Iraqi family at the monastery where we stayed. They had just received their visa (after 5 years) and were emigrating to Toronto. That is, after they return to Baghdad (”
insha 'Allah!”) to gather their belongings. A gentle and friendly couple, please join with me in praying that their reception and resettlement would be a respite from what has been, no doubt, an unpredictable and insecure life.
We left Damascus on the morning of the 4th, thinking we were home-free for Beirut. We thought so, that is, until our bus broke down 35km outside of Beirut. Of course, this was in stormy, rainy and windy weather! Fortunately, as they were unloading the luggage and everyone was trying to figure out a plan B, minibuses started showing up. We boarded one and headed toward Beirut, along with a Dutch woman and another American guy from Michigan.
BEIRUTWe finally arrived, unpacked, washed our things and have settled back into scholastic life. It's hard to believe I have just over 3 weeks before returning to Chicago. How can it be?? Between now and then, I have a rather horrifying amount of school work to complete -- so that I can return 4 days before the next semester at McCormick begins with a clean slate! Until then, though, I will keep having those sweet conversations and experiences that remind me how imaginative God is when creating humans and piecing together our lives.
Labels: travel
