Last week when I was in Vermont talking to others about my time in the “Axis of Evil”, I thought of a couple good ideas to help flesh out this blog. Of course now I don’t remember. A time machine might help that, but then if I had a time machine, I would probably go back and be a little more active in Aleppo/Syria. There was far too much going back and forth to Berlitz everyday (except Fridays, natch).

As I slowly get around to fleshing out my experience in Syria, a thought flashed in my mind. The time I spent in Damascus (excluding the first weekend I went there when I was incredibly ill) was like a modern-day replaying of Casablanca. My flight to Moscow was leaving out of Damascus at 2am, so I left Aleppo that afternoon having nothing else to do in Halab and wanting not to rush. “In and out like a surgical airstrike,” to borrow a phrase I use probably more than I should.

The best laid plans….

I finally left Damascus four days later. And it soured me on Sham, though, to be fair, the city was not to blame. Neither was Syria. The delay was all on me (but just a little) and on Aeroflop (a whole lot, for which they have yet to repent).

I ended up finding a charming hotel that, luckily was dirt cheap too. Its amazing courtyard is what’s in the above picture. The area where I was staying, I got the impression (having been forced to go to several hotels before finding one with a spare room) that such courtyards were a dime a dozen, but I didn’t care. I sat out there for hours. Half pissed that I was stuck in Damascus and half relaxing in a very relaxing atmosphere. I calmed down so much that I nearly turned into someone else - I was actually sociable when I was there.

I rarely ventured out of the hotel’s domain during my stay. I left only to eat, use the internet, and hope against hope that someone would show up at the Aeroflop office to do their job. The rest of Damascus could have been “conquered” during the three full days I had to sightsee, but like I said above, I was pissed. I just wanted to shut Damascus out. The lack of decent restaurants/eating places in the area didn’t help my mood, either. If this had been Casablanca, I would’ve holed myself up in Rick’s Cafe until the plane came.

But damn if I didn’t enjoy that courtyard. I don’t know. Maybe it’s one of those “you had to be there things”. But I was there. For four days.

I still intend to make this blog more complete by writing more about my experience in Syria, but at the moment, my calendar is reminding me that I have more pressing matters. Of course, some of it can be blamed on laziness. Case in point, by way of a somewhat fuller explanation, I am including a post from my Russian blog (noviyrus.wordpress.com):

“I don’t intend to keep this blog one ice the entire summer, but I need to freeze it for the time being. For one thing, I have a thesis to prepare a defense for. I have one month left and I’ve barely started. Shame on me. Also, and perhaps more importantly (in the long run), I have yet to make my move to Moscow. That is expected to occur in July (pending a successful and timely work visa process). The blog will resume in earnest shortly thereafter. In the meantime, I still plan on making contributions to this blog time-permitting if there are newsworthy stories worth pontificating about…like if a war breaks out in the Caucasus (reverse knock-on-wood).”

No concrete word on when this blog will get its updates, so I’ll just say “hopefully soon”.

So I finally finished my Aleppo video from all the pictures and video clips I took while I was there. Two things struck me. One, I didn’t take a lot of pictures and two, it’s mostly of the Old City. That’s fine cos that’s what I enjoyed the most, but in a way, I wish I had something of some of the other areas. Most of the action is at night, too, because the moonlight gives Aleppo a certain charm that the sun doesn’t. Maybe it’s the fact that the brownish/greyish/white buildings can take on different (less bland) colors at night.

In Aleppo, there can’t be much that beats sitting outside in one of the restuarants lining the Citadel. At around 10 o’clock the restaurants get full as people head out for the usual late dinner. The air is still somewhat warm, but comfortable, especially when there’s a breeze blowing (just beware that the wind may also pick up some dust). So you sit there at your table, smoking your hubble bubble, taking in the sights and sounds. The restaurants are situated at the base of the Citadel and only a few meters away, so when you’re eating, you can’t help but be humbled by the Citadel’s majesty. It might seem even more so if the Citadel were better illuminated at night, but it’s still impressive. Back in the dining area, there’s a din of steady conversation and the rattling of dice and backgammon pieces. Young boys are even more attentive than the waiters as they come up to your table trying to sell you a plate full of nuts, but a simple flick of the hand or head nod sends them away until the next time they come around. Globalization has reached Aleppo, but here at the Citadel, you get a better sense of the city’s traditions. That, in a nutshell, is the magic of the Old City.

Now that I’m back in America, it’s time to fill in the gaps of my nearly nine months in Aleppo. This will take some time. I’m also supposed to be preparing for my thesis defense next month and getting ready to move back overseas as well, so bear with me.

Here’s just a quick little story while you’re waiting: I left Syria for a trip to Moscow before coming home. I was curious if there’d be any culture shock after having been in the Axis of Kibbe for so long. Not really. And suprisingly, my Russian (though still woefully inadequate) was good enough to get me around town and asking for things when I needed them. Stupidly, but humorously, the one funny moment was taxiing into Dulles on the tram thing that takes you to the gate if you were on a prop plane. I saw an electric socket on the wall and couldn’t help but think how weird it looked compared to what I was used to seeing.

Dumb American.

Yesterday, I set out to visit St. Simeon which isn’t as close to Aleppo as I thought it was. Someone told me it was about an hour away, but I thought it was only 15-20 mins from here. Shows what I’ve learned over the past eight and a half months.

Anyway, not only is it farther away, but there’s no bus that goes there. You have to take a sarvees - something I’ve never done. I didn’t know where to find the sarvees to St. Simeon (and had many problems trying to find out where to go with my lousy American-accented Arabic), so I just went to the garage and hopped on a bus to Tartous.

By this time, it was already 1:30 - not the best time to start a 3-4 hour journey down south, but hey. That’s how I roll. (read: stupidly) Since it was so late, I only spent a couple of hours in Tartous, but I didn’t really care. All I wanted was to see the Mediterranean. Tartous didn’t disappoint and the weather was fantastic. It wasn’t even crowded (except on the buses), so that was swell too.

Last night, some of us went here. It was my first time. Unsurprisingly, everyone else had been here at least several times. I’d been inside before, to see the decorating - I was shown by the guy who decorated the stage area and where we sat last night. I was told that the food was average, but I didn’t have any complaints. I don’t know how anyone could screw up kibbe sharjia and kabab halabi, though. At least not here. In the States, sure.

They had entertainment last night. Sadly, not the Darweesh (which I’ve been told only gig during Ramadan - sadly, I was told that afterwards). Last night, it was just some guy singing with his backup band of one. We didn’t stay too long because someone fell ill, but it was still enjoyable. Considering that that may well have been my last restaurant experience in Aleppo (I don’t count Arabica or al-Attar), it was happiness.

So, I’m outta here in a few days and wondering whether or not I should keep this blog in the off chance I might actually post something else after I leave, or if I should put it out of its misery and do a Dr. Kevorkian.

I can’t imagine I’ll be too interested in keeping this going if I’m shifting my focus back to Russia or living back in Balad al-Kafeer. But I pride myself on being unpredictable, so who knows what will happen.

At the very least, I’d like to have another post or two discussing other observations about life here as an infidel. Not that I felt particularly infidelish these last nine months, but you know….