Syrian Hospitality

Article

This article is part of a series of nine articles describing my Middle East trip during the fall of 2009. The journey lasted almost three months and included seven countries: Yemen, Oman, Sudan, Egypt, Jordan, Syria, and Turkey.

1. Upcoming Middle East Tour
2. ME Tour Begins
3. Two weeks hard time aboard the Phoenicia
4. Sudan - Khartoum to Karima
5. Journal: Journey across the Nubian Desert
6. Journal: On Nasser Lake Ferry
7. Egypt and Jordan
8. Syrian Hospitality
9. Turkey

Once again I find myself without adequate time to write about my trip. I’m now in Turkey, but I know if I don’t write something here about Syria it just won’t happen.

Entering Syria was not as bad as I expected. Officially, I was supposed to visit a Syrian embassy to obtain a visa prior to my arrival. But not knowing the exact dates of my arrival, I didn’t want the headache of explaining the date change when I arrived. And honestly, the main reason I didn’t want to obtain a visa prior to arrival was to avoid the outrageous fee. (near $200?)

Instead I just showed up. I felt like I had a good story…living in Yemen…long journey…etc. Not surprisingly, the officer who I met at the border raked me over the coals a bit. I did everything I could do to make the process easier for him. Still, I had to wait three hours at the border while my taxi left me behind. Yet as I sat there, I reflected on my conversations with my Sudanese friends. I had complained about the “expensive” fees for American’s to enter Sudan. ($150) Yet the reality is, any inconvenience I may face while traveling pales in consideration of what so many others face. For example, my friends in Yemen must pay around $100 just for a US visa application which will likely be denied! As I considered these things while sitting at the Syrian border, I found myself hoping they would hold me there just a little longer.

Eventually they granted me an entry visa…for sixteen bucks. Then I hitchhiked and took buses to Damascus.

Damascus

Damascus was beautiful and I enjoyed every day there. But I did see plenty of other tourists there, and it’s mysterious attraction seemed to fade somewhat. I have a hunch that the best experiences in Syria remain in the small villages. Still, Damascus is a great place just to wander and discover new alleyways…and eat! I found myself wishing all the time that I was hungry again.

While in the city, I met the calligrapher, Ahmed Albari. Traveling with him to his studio, he would point out, “I wrote the script on that mosque” and “that one too”. His hospitality was just as one would expect from a Syrian.

Deir Mar Musa

A couple hours north of Damascus lies a monastery in the mountains near Nebek. There’s a lot to read about the place online so I won’t go into depth here. Unfortunately, it has turned into quite a tourist spot. When I arrived there were a couple TOUR BUSES lined up in the parking area below the monastery. But the folks I met during my couple nights there were quite friendly, and we had some awesome conversations.

My favorite part of Mar Musa is the library. I’d love to design a library like it in my home one day!

Menbej and Abdul Galil Elayaan

Probably my most memorable time in Syria was the time I spent with Abdul Galil Elayaan in his home in Menbej, about an hour and a half outside Aleppo. He is a highly skilled calligrapher who I first met in Damascus, but who insisted I visit him when I passed through Aleppo. He really showered me with so much friendliness and hospitality. He took me all over Damascus pointing out various calligraphy styles, and also invited me to his calligraphy class in Menbej. The night I stayed with him in his home, we stayed up late at night talking and working on his projects.

As I prepared to leave Menbej, Abdul Galil would repeatedly ask when I was returning, insisting that I return to stay and learn calligraphy from him. I must say I’m still contemplating the idea! But the most touching part of our parting came with our final cup of coffee. His son, maybe 7 or 8 years old, pointed out their jasmine bush on the terrace. When he saw that I was pleased with the powerful smell of the flowers, he began to pick every one of them off the bush. I stopped him from doing so, but in a perfect display of hospitality and creativity, he arranged them around the dish holding my coffee cup. His father smiling in approval.