2 consecutive trips to Syria: the vices of prejudice

It has been a long time since I have opened this blog, but I was looking for an inspiring event to start writing, and the place least expected to draw inspiration from was actually the one that did the trick: Syria.

Like most Lebanese people, especially from my generation, I had a prejudice against Syria for no specific reason. When I used to think of Syria, all I saw in my mind was a country I shouldn't visit, a country I wouldn't visit and people I would definitely dislike. 

Prejudice is vile vice. Syria was none of the above when I finally saw it.

Now you would ask me - and rightfully so - what was it that got me to visit it in spite of my prejudice, and the explanation that I owe you goes as such:

I have been unemployed since the end of September, and so I started spending the money I had saved for a car's first payment until I found a job, a job that I still haven't nailed. And when I got really bored, I decided I should use this money doing something beneficial and entertaining instead of squandering it over boring cups of coffee in Beirut, a city that is starting to exasperate me. I began by inquiring about flights to Italy; it had always been my dream to visit it, but it turns out the trip would cost me a lot more than I had, and so I had to postpone that dream one more time. 

My mother and I had been discussing a shopping trip to Syria along with my grandmother ( supposedly an expert when it comes to Syria ) for a while, and I thought a trip anywhere is better than staying in here boring myself to death, and so it was agreed, and on Wednesday morning we went to Charles Helo station and took a taxi to Damascus. Upon a friend's advice, I booked us a triple room in a one star hotel, Al Rabi3 hotel. I had expected the hotel to be an ugly dump but to my delight, it turned out to be a 600 years old Syrian house with a huge garden and a fountain in the middle, just like the ones in the Syrian historical drama series that my mother is addicted to. It was simply beautiful, breathtaking and utterly unexpected! 

For three days, three generations of women roamed the old souks and bought a bit of everything, from scarves to wooden boxes. For three days we enjoyed the serenity of the hotel and got to know its employees and its residents, a heartwarming mixture of people from all corners of Syria and the world. 

When it came time to leave, I felt an overwhelming sadness overcoming me. In such a short time, I learned to love the people I met and appreciate the much needed novelty they brought me and I had become accustomed to the revelatory sensation the city had introduced me to. 

Back in Beirut, I thought I was about to explode, to suffocate. I wasn't done with Damascus, I had to go back, and a few days later that is exactly what I did.

For a full week, I visited the monuments and museums of Damascus and I shopped till I dropped. My mother arrived on my fourth day there and together we made a pilgrimage to the beautiful monasteries in the countryside. We were supposed to come back to Beirut on Sunday since my mother had work on Monday, but a storm hit the whole Middle East and didn't spare Damascus: snow fell after the rain and rain fell again to melt the snow, all the while keeping us pleasantly trapped in the hotel in the company of a lovely Franco Algerian couple and their precious little boy, a very weird looking trilingual Argentinian fellow and his French girlfriend whom he met while staying at the hotel, a sort of Mexican/ Portuguese (he was actually from Holland) white bearded Van Gogh strapping a red bandanna around his neck with his sort of Indian/ searching for her identity Maryam Nour wife and their either adopted kids or one kid and his girlfriend AND his boyfriend, and last but not least, three old Spanish ladies that I enjoyed calling 7anneh, Manneh and Elyanor ( yes I know that is not how it is spelled, but trust me, that is how she looked ) among other residents.

It took us almost 7 hours to arrive to Beirut on Monday, the journey was somewhat dangerous and the old Hajjeh who took the taxi with us didn't make it any easier, she wouldn't stop nagging as if being stuck next to her for 7 hours wasn't punishment enough, she had to talk and nag through them as well, otherwise we simply couldn't have arrived safely, her directions to our chauffeur - who was 2 steps away from leaving her somewhere on the road between the two countries  - were extremely useful for our well being and safety. 

The first trip to Syria was extremely beneficial to my health and the second one saved me a lot of money on Christmas shopping, I got everything for almost less than half the prices in Beirut from Damascus:) I also had the opportunity to exercise my favorite hobby: reading without interruption; I read 7 books in total during both trips.