Sham

Now that I am done with al-Harith, I feel a loss of purpose. I have relaxed for a few days, and now I feel the urgency to get working again. Time to tackle my dissertation topic, I guess. I feel intimidated by this whole prospect, but I am off to begin today.

When I first started this blog, I mentioned that I wanted to collect my thoughts and post about Syria. This year has been overwhelming in terms of work, so I've had little time for anything else. Last night, I finally had some time for reflection, and I began to think about my love affair with Syria--Damascus, in particular. I haven't been there in almost two years, and I am not sure when I will be able to return, and in what capacity. It will be strange since so much of the "trappings" of my life have changed, and in some ways, I will experience Syria as I have never experienced it before. I am not even sure I would be able to see some of my favorite "fixtures" in Sham.

I am no economist, but what pains me most about the country is the depressed socioeconomic situation. During the years that I was there, indications of a higher degree of autonomy in the private sector were evident--a few more foregin products in stores, some private investement, etc. The huge disparity between the masses of people and the 200 or so people associated with Asad--no doctrinaire socialist to be sure--remained. Despite Asad's passage of the 'corrective movement' (al-harakat al-tashihiyya) in the 1970s, the various infitahs* of the 70s and 80s, and a host of other programs, or more precisely, "laws and measures" that would follow, the private sector remained (and remains) in dire need of rehabilitation. To be sure, a free economic market remains elusory. Can economic change even happen without provoking disruptive political change?

Anyway, this all weighs heavily on my mind because it directly affects so many of my Syrian friends. In many ways, Syria is the eye-sore of the Middle East. Anyway, now that the helmsmanship has changed, let's wait and see. In any case, democratization of Syrian politics and economics does not seem imminent. Hey, at least computer technology has improved!

Anyway, what prompted this post is my keen memories of Syria and its people. S and S still visit Syria quite often, but I don't know if they are going this summer. I started looking through my pictures and have decided to post a few, although they are quite old.

*The term infitah has become common currency (no pun intended) in the Arab world. It refers, generally, to policies that increase the weight of the private sector and the opening up of economies internationally. It involves a greater reliance on market forces which and may include public sector reforms.




This is a picture of the Cactus stand in Mezza that sat about 50 ft from the house. Cactus is a popular fruit in the Middle East. I am not a big fan, but most Syrians love this delicacy. It is more expensive than most fruits--about 150 lira per tray ($3.00, which, relatively speaking, is quite expensive). During the Cactus season, which is from mid-June to early September, one sees Cactus stands everywhere. One of my favorite sights is driving on the desolate roads that lead to the airport in the middle of the night and seeing the rows of Cactus stands, all lit up with chintzy lightbulbs, decorating the street. They dot the streets like rows of stars and are open at three and four in the morning. I never understood this. There are probably 60 stands on the way to the airport and very few people out at night. Still, they make for a stunning, and sort of strange sight.

Every year we would have a breif rendez-vous with these gentlemen. They would come and set up shop, and then, poof, in September they'd be gone, without a trace. We wouldn't see hide nor hair them until the following summer. I watched the young boy in the picture grow up since I was in Sham every summer from 97-04. He was just a kid back in the day. One year, we were walking down the street and it felt different. Suddenly, I noticed that the "Cactus Men" were gone. They had packed up shop and left, and yet it wasn't entirely apparent at first. It wasn't as if I expected a goodbye (due to Syrian norms, I never really interacted with these men, but I was always polite and said hello), but it was like a part of the street had been removed.



This is where I attended school in 2004. It was quite a blowoff compared to University of Damascus. The main incentive is that it was one minute from where I lived.



This is where I had breakfast every morning. They make "saj." It is made out of dough, but I am at a loss to describe what kind of dough, etc. For one dollar, I could get a sandwich and a freshly-squeezed strawberry drink.



Downtown, Damascus. This is near the opening of the famous Suq Hamidiyah.




S and S asleep at Meme's house.