Syria and Lebanon, in brief:
-Free falafel, free sweets, free tea and free nargile
-Some of the friendliest people I have ever met
This trip was one for the history books. We left January 22nd and returned February 1st, ten days packed to the brim with adventure and new friends. I can’t possibly write it all here without turning my blog into a book, so I’ll try to focus on the highlights. A difficult task indeed, considering even the low points make good stories in retrospect.
Getting to Syria was a trial in patience. We took a bus from Ankara to the border, which took 9 long hours, then spent 6 hours at the border waiting for our visas. This is Syria’s little way of getting back at America for all the wrongs it has done to it. All other nationalities pass through in a matter of minutes, but Americans are made to wait anywhere from 2-12 hours, just because. As much as I did not enjoy my time sitting in a cold and drafty building, I can’t help but applaud Syria its small spiteful ploy. We arrived in Aleppo around dinnertime Saturday and checked into our hotel only to turn around and search for some falafel. Not only did we find some, but we weren’t allowed to pay for it. After, we wondered around the city some more and met Zacharias, the owner of a scarf shop in Al Jdeideh, a square near the Christian Quarter. Natalie and I had a grand time looking at shelf after shelf of scarves, and as we looked, we chatted and drank tea. We must have been in the shop for over an hour before we bought our finds. Zacharias pointed us in the direction of a good restaurant to smoke nargile, and we smoked and drank wine till it was time for bed.
The next day we spent exploring the Citadel, the Grand Mosque, and Aleppo’s marvelous covered souk. I bought surprisingly little at the souk but ate to my heart’s content. Anything edible we saw that we did not recognize we had to try, along with many splendid Syrian specialties. We ate hummus and foul, fresh juice, Syrian pancakes and delicious kunafeh (a creamy-cheesy pastry), and that’s only what I remember off the top of my head. I also bought some of the best dates I have ever tasted, small, soft, and super sweet. We walked to the Christian Quarter, had tea once again with Zacharias, and ate a delicious falafel dinner.
That night, we took a bus to Damascus. We arrived around dinnertime and without a place to stay. All the backpacker hotels were booked, but luck was on our side. A man in one of the hotels explained that he was an Arabic teacher for foreigners, and had a student flat nearby that we could stay in. For some reason I trusted this character, and I could not be happier that I did. It turned out it was his birthday, so we followed Hussam to drinks with some of his students at a local bar that was hosting a poetry reading, followed by falafel, shawerma, and fresh juice.
We had read somewhere that there was camel kebab to be found in the city. This was high up on Charlie’s priority list, and so our hunt began. It took a long walk and a lot of asking for directions in Arabic on my part, but we found it. It was actually delicious, well spiced and slightly salty, but I wanted hummus for my dinner, so our next stop was a small restaurant nearby. I found hummus, some of the best baba ghanoush I have ever tasted, and was given free foul and tea. Later that night we met up with Hussam for tea, juice, and backgammon at a beautiful traditional Arabic house converted into a restaurant, followed by drinks back at his other flat with some of his students.
Saturday was our last full day, and spent it wandering Beirut proper. We walked along the corniche to downtown, where all the buildings are either brand new or hollow shells from bombs in years past. We entered the French area of the city and found a wonderful bakery full of pastries and artisan breads where I bought a much missed almond croissant. We had arranged to meet another Couchsurfing character at 3:30, and right on the dot, he drove up in a very new, very fancy Range Rover. His name was Philippe, and he works as a financial consultant in Beirut. He has only actually lived in the city for 8 years, having been born in Switzerland to a French mother and Lebanese father. He spent most of his life moving country to country for his dad’s work as a UN ambassador, but now at age 23, is happy to stay in Beirut. He chauffeured us around the city for the afternoon and took us to a wonderful ice cream shop near his own apartment. The shopkeeper and the shop owner were one in the same, and the little old man gave us generous samples of his handful of flavors as he explained that he made it all from fresh ingredients and seasonal fresh fruit. Philippe’s friend, Aristotle, and brother, William, came and met us at the shop while I savored my cone of almond and pistachio.
Philippe dropped us off at Evan’s apartment with plans to meet up later. We spent some relaxing hours enjoying each other’s company, then went to find Philippe and his friend Laure at a bar in the French district. It was another fun and sleepless night, and we didn’t wake up till noon the next day. We had planned to leave around then, but somehow just didn’t manage to get out the door till 5. First we had to go to the grocery store, full of its many missed magical American foods, and the cupcake shop I had been dreaming of for weeks prior. There was also the fact that we simply didn’t want to leave. But leave we did, and 29 hours later we found ourselves sleep deprived and back in Ankara.
New plan for next year: Arabic in Damascus for the summer. Beirut in the fall. Research a UN internship (or contact Philippe’s father). Take the GRE and apply to the AUB Middle East Studies master’s program for the following semester. Is that so crazy? We’ll just see what happens with those law school applications.
