Our Ponytails
I see us in the children here.
My sisters and me, ages one, four, five
Onion tops, or front of head “goat horn” dos.
Pale, thin skin, large impish eyes
Sun-drenched against backdrops of rooftops, desert, haze.
Why did they come? And how did they feel, my young parents?
Learning new names, new faces, new foods I learn now—menaeesh, beitenjan, labneh, benadura.
Navigating playmates, home repair, pastoral visits, emergencies, impish children, nosy neighbors,
With fondness undimmed by foreign-ness.
The accents, customs, and foods of Syria feel like an old aunt.
Safety, comfort, with occasional self-consciousness, funny clothes, or bad breath,
Learned and felt mostly second-hand through my parents.
Finger-bunched motion of “stanna swaya” held out the windows of impatient taxis.
“Ya habibi!!” to the child who runs in front of a cart on a cobble-stoned street.
“Hemar!!” to the other stupid driver.
Plentiful sweet orange juice and creamy labneh.
And the generosity of the Armenian lady who put down her groceries and took us half-a-mile away to the best foul medemas shop, just because we asked where to get some for breakfast—all along jabbering in Arabic and apologizing that her own house was too small.
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
Sunday, December 6, 2009
Learnings and Jordan observations - by Yvette
When one takes a “midlife crises pre-children” kind of round-the-world trip, it seems that there are deep, meaningful, abstract lessons one should learn. My original dreaming about this trip included words like “spontaneity,” “aesthetic,” “art,” “creativity,” “self-expansion.” And yes, in their own messy way, those ideas are being explored. But there are some more immediate lessons I’ve learned recently which I’d like to share:
1) Chinese suction cups suck—or, rather, they don’t suck enough. Our potholders keep falling from their suction-cupped-to-the-tile vantage point. Much more significantly, our $2 tub-bottom anti-slip mat has a similar effect as a slimy banana peel. As I sat in the bottom of the tub with the shower raining down on me, trying to secure the suction cups yet again and rubbing my bruised shoulder, it took no imagination to ponder what it must be like to be elderly and afraid of falling in the tub. (The mat has now been demoted to use as a rug on the dry floor.)
2) Building codes rock. Okay, so we’ve violated them before. However, now that we’ve a) melted our heater plug twice; b) blown a hole in the side of a lightbulb we were trying to screw in (even worse, this didn’t throw the breaker); c) melted the plug our mostly-gas stove is plugged into (the broiler is electric, go figure); d) enjoyed a show of sparks any time we plug anything in, we’ve decided that housing codes are good things. We’re still going through light bulbs at a rapid rate, but that may relate to item #1 above—made in China.
3) Peeled garlic stinks. Initially, the only garlic we could find came pre-peeled, by the kilo. Now, I like garlic, but even so. . . The plastic bag did little to contain the smell, and soon everything in our fridge (yoghurt, milk, left-over pudding from the night before) smelled like garlic. We attempted a rubber-gasket glass jar, the garlic still escaped. We ate it in everything we could, by the handful. We’ve now found unpeeled garlic—who knew that those peels were so much more effective than modern plastic or glass, in keeping the smell in until one really wants to include garlic in what one is eating.
4) Hot and cold proportions are surprising. When bathing from water one has heated on the stove, the appropriate proportions of hot and cold are surprising. For example, one might think one should fill the bucket with half ice cold water from the tap, and half hot water from the steaming pan one has just carefully carried up the stairs to the bathroom. One would be wrong, painfully wrong.
5) Shopping for jeans is hard. On the Southeast Asia tourist route, most women are dressed in very cool Capri pants and short-sleeved, v-necked t-shirts. Not so true in Syria. Capri pants turn every head in our neighborhood (well, the women try to be discreetly in following you with their eyes, but fail, even from behind a veil)—wow, they scream, there’s ankles here!!! Similarly so with a v-neck. I think people try to be respectful, but it’s hard to gawk respectfully, and, well, I’m foreign enough already (note the uncovered hair), that dressing this way just makes me an easy target to stare at. So, I decide that a second pair of jeans would be a good plan. Okay, so shopping for jeans is hard in the US as well. But here, the challenging factors include that almost all the shopkeepers are men who either try to be helpful or just scrutinize you while you shop—both of these are end up feeling like an ambush anytime one walks into a store. Further, Syrian thighs—not to mention current fashion trends—seem to suggest that all legs are bird-like. My grandfather was a Swiss dairy farmer and thus my thighs are not bird-like. Most of the jeans are very bling-ey, with silver thread and sequins all over the hips and pickets, some more attractive than others. And then there’s the whole price issue. Prices are negotiable in almost every shop. My 13-year-old neighbor assures me I shouldn’t pay more than SP 500 (about $10), but the prices seem to range from there to $80 jeans in the local fancy mall. Ergh. So the shopping sagas I’ve not talked about? A) peanut butter; B) camel meat, this the shop keeper’s idea and not our own; C) parts for our broken toilet; D) bikini line waxing.
Jordan . . .
Our five-day trip to Jordan was really great. We’d gotten a rough translation of the itinerary, but each new day was largely a mystery. Much more spontaneous that way. . . .
Favorites . . . we saw a lot in our 5 days, but I’ll not list everything. Here are a few faves from the trip: 1) Mt. Nebo, from which Moses saw the Promised Land and was then taken to heaven. Beautiful, peaceful, mountain with a lovely breeze and sweeping views. I hope it was a less-hazy day for Moses than it was for us, but even so we were able to see the Dead Sea, the Golan Heights, the suburbs of Amman from here. 2) Wadi Rum – beautiful desert protected area where we rode jeeps (the sun was setting, it was cold!), played football with the Bedouin kids, tried to pet protesting camels, and succeeded in petting baby goats. 3) Madaba -- mosaic of the world’s earliest / largest map, mosaics everywhere were very cool, but this one especially. 4) Jarash – ancient Roman city, a lot of it still intact. Two large theaters (love that), long colonnaded streets and circular plazas, temples to Zeus or Artemis. 5) Petra – of course, fascinating. The site is amazing. Favorite things there beyond the obvious, were the handsomely-decked-out Bedouin policeman we got our picture with, the camels we rode on (first time), and the music being played / sung out from one of the lookout towers, by the church that we hiked to on the far end of Petra. (Petra is where we were the “late ones” back to the bus—sorry, Mary!) 6) Aqaba – A very touristy, somewhat glitzy, party city. I believe 90% of people there are foreigners, it’s a duty-free zone within Jordan, situated on the beautiful blue of the Red Sea (go figure) just across from Israel. We went on glass bottom boats, didn’t see too many fish, but nice to be out on the blue water in the sunshine and the breeze.
Differences with Syria . . . I like that, during this trip, we’re learning about the nuanced differences between places by experience and exposure. Jordan has more friendly relations with the west – evidenced in the Burger King, Pizza Hut, McDonald’s and Starbucks that we saw there. There are some quite fancy malls (also one in Aleppo, but smaller). The roads seem a bit better, and the infrastructure in general a bit better / cleaner / well-repaired. Some have told us that Jordan’s put their bet on education—such as, the taxi driver may have a university degree and speak English. However, he’s working as a taxi driver. Being one of the smallest Middle Eastern countries by population, I wonder if it can “afford” to invest in things other than defense, etc. It also has been blessed, it seems, with relatively good governance by the royal family. That said, it’s also the country with the longest border to Israel—and it does have a very visible military / police presence. We visited the Jordan River, site where Jesus was baptized by John the Baptist, and just 20 feet across the river there is Israel—with a large flag and visitor’s center. I watched another tourist on the Jordanian side as she realized that was Israel, responding with a sniff and, it seemed, “well, I don’t need to go any closer, then.” There seemed a combined fascination, fear, and irritation among our group as various tour guides pointed out which lights were Israel, beyond which set of trees, etc. Syria is still formally at war with Israel, and Syrians cannot go to Israel even if they wanted to.
Swimming. . . we got to swim in the Dead Sea (more a matter of “bobbing” than swimming), the Red Sea (I waded, Neil swam and saw some nice fish while holding to his face a child’s snorkel set which was too small to fit), and thermal hot springs. How does this work in a Muslim culture, we were eager to know. Well, all the women say they’ll swim but nearly all end up wading. Those who do swim generally wear covering (depending on the sophistication of their swimming gear, could be lycra swim suits, or just pants and a shirt) from ankle to wrist to neck). At the thermal springs, there was a “women only” area with high walls, in which the women still wore at least a swim suit with skirty-thing and biker-type shorts beneath, but there they uncovered their hair. My questions were graciously answered by many female friends.
New friends . . . Several wonderful new friends looked out for us: Moona (who shared much better food than we shared with her, loaned us sweaters when we were cold, laughed a lot, tolerated and even tried to understand our bad Arabic, practiced reading with us (she’s a grandma so I think this came naturally), argued with the bathroom guy who charged me 5 times what others were paying and got my money back. Rami (grad student in archeological restoration and conservation, good photographer, co-leader of the trip; he always made sure we knew when / where to go, ensured we were back on the bus, shared pictures and photo tips back-and-forth with Neil, told us how mosaics were preserved, and laughed at our bad jokes); Anita (young business-woman, hip-ster, fashionista, shopper, bathroom groupie); Myrna (young French teacher, photographer and picture-poser ad infinitum, sub-group organizer (dinner together back in Aleppo one week from tonight, okay?), who brought smiles, humor, beauty, grace, enthusiasm), Julie and Joaquim (Canadian and German couple working in Aleppo on water infrastructure, we shared expat stories, a distaste for high-volume Arabic music and yet another shopping mall stop, and together navigated the Jordan visa lines for foreigners). Others on the bus became less shy over the days, and were very helpful in translating a few facts about what we were seeing, or telling us when we were to be at breakfast, how many hours we had at Petra, whether to bring our swimsuits and/or a jacket, when to be back at the bus when we stopped at the mall, etc. Great group of people.
1) Chinese suction cups suck—or, rather, they don’t suck enough. Our potholders keep falling from their suction-cupped-to-the-tile vantage point. Much more significantly, our $2 tub-bottom anti-slip mat has a similar effect as a slimy banana peel. As I sat in the bottom of the tub with the shower raining down on me, trying to secure the suction cups yet again and rubbing my bruised shoulder, it took no imagination to ponder what it must be like to be elderly and afraid of falling in the tub. (The mat has now been demoted to use as a rug on the dry floor.)
2) Building codes rock. Okay, so we’ve violated them before. However, now that we’ve a) melted our heater plug twice; b) blown a hole in the side of a lightbulb we were trying to screw in (even worse, this didn’t throw the breaker); c) melted the plug our mostly-gas stove is plugged into (the broiler is electric, go figure); d) enjoyed a show of sparks any time we plug anything in, we’ve decided that housing codes are good things. We’re still going through light bulbs at a rapid rate, but that may relate to item #1 above—made in China.
3) Peeled garlic stinks. Initially, the only garlic we could find came pre-peeled, by the kilo. Now, I like garlic, but even so. . . The plastic bag did little to contain the smell, and soon everything in our fridge (yoghurt, milk, left-over pudding from the night before) smelled like garlic. We attempted a rubber-gasket glass jar, the garlic still escaped. We ate it in everything we could, by the handful. We’ve now found unpeeled garlic—who knew that those peels were so much more effective than modern plastic or glass, in keeping the smell in until one really wants to include garlic in what one is eating.
4) Hot and cold proportions are surprising. When bathing from water one has heated on the stove, the appropriate proportions of hot and cold are surprising. For example, one might think one should fill the bucket with half ice cold water from the tap, and half hot water from the steaming pan one has just carefully carried up the stairs to the bathroom. One would be wrong, painfully wrong.
5) Shopping for jeans is hard. On the Southeast Asia tourist route, most women are dressed in very cool Capri pants and short-sleeved, v-necked t-shirts. Not so true in Syria. Capri pants turn every head in our neighborhood (well, the women try to be discreetly in following you with their eyes, but fail, even from behind a veil)—wow, they scream, there’s ankles here!!! Similarly so with a v-neck. I think people try to be respectful, but it’s hard to gawk respectfully, and, well, I’m foreign enough already (note the uncovered hair), that dressing this way just makes me an easy target to stare at. So, I decide that a second pair of jeans would be a good plan. Okay, so shopping for jeans is hard in the US as well. But here, the challenging factors include that almost all the shopkeepers are men who either try to be helpful or just scrutinize you while you shop—both of these are end up feeling like an ambush anytime one walks into a store. Further, Syrian thighs—not to mention current fashion trends—seem to suggest that all legs are bird-like. My grandfather was a Swiss dairy farmer and thus my thighs are not bird-like. Most of the jeans are very bling-ey, with silver thread and sequins all over the hips and pickets, some more attractive than others. And then there’s the whole price issue. Prices are negotiable in almost every shop. My 13-year-old neighbor assures me I shouldn’t pay more than SP 500 (about $10), but the prices seem to range from there to $80 jeans in the local fancy mall. Ergh. So the shopping sagas I’ve not talked about? A) peanut butter; B) camel meat, this the shop keeper’s idea and not our own; C) parts for our broken toilet; D) bikini line waxing.
Jordan . . .
Our five-day trip to Jordan was really great. We’d gotten a rough translation of the itinerary, but each new day was largely a mystery. Much more spontaneous that way. . . .
Favorites . . . we saw a lot in our 5 days, but I’ll not list everything. Here are a few faves from the trip: 1) Mt. Nebo, from which Moses saw the Promised Land and was then taken to heaven. Beautiful, peaceful, mountain with a lovely breeze and sweeping views. I hope it was a less-hazy day for Moses than it was for us, but even so we were able to see the Dead Sea, the Golan Heights, the suburbs of Amman from here. 2) Wadi Rum – beautiful desert protected area where we rode jeeps (the sun was setting, it was cold!), played football with the Bedouin kids, tried to pet protesting camels, and succeeded in petting baby goats. 3) Madaba -- mosaic of the world’s earliest / largest map, mosaics everywhere were very cool, but this one especially. 4) Jarash – ancient Roman city, a lot of it still intact. Two large theaters (love that), long colonnaded streets and circular plazas, temples to Zeus or Artemis. 5) Petra – of course, fascinating. The site is amazing. Favorite things there beyond the obvious, were the handsomely-decked-out Bedouin policeman we got our picture with, the camels we rode on (first time), and the music being played / sung out from one of the lookout towers, by the church that we hiked to on the far end of Petra. (Petra is where we were the “late ones” back to the bus—sorry, Mary!) 6) Aqaba – A very touristy, somewhat glitzy, party city. I believe 90% of people there are foreigners, it’s a duty-free zone within Jordan, situated on the beautiful blue of the Red Sea (go figure) just across from Israel. We went on glass bottom boats, didn’t see too many fish, but nice to be out on the blue water in the sunshine and the breeze.
Differences with Syria . . . I like that, during this trip, we’re learning about the nuanced differences between places by experience and exposure. Jordan has more friendly relations with the west – evidenced in the Burger King, Pizza Hut, McDonald’s and Starbucks that we saw there. There are some quite fancy malls (also one in Aleppo, but smaller). The roads seem a bit better, and the infrastructure in general a bit better / cleaner / well-repaired. Some have told us that Jordan’s put their bet on education—such as, the taxi driver may have a university degree and speak English. However, he’s working as a taxi driver. Being one of the smallest Middle Eastern countries by population, I wonder if it can “afford” to invest in things other than defense, etc. It also has been blessed, it seems, with relatively good governance by the royal family. That said, it’s also the country with the longest border to Israel—and it does have a very visible military / police presence. We visited the Jordan River, site where Jesus was baptized by John the Baptist, and just 20 feet across the river there is Israel—with a large flag and visitor’s center. I watched another tourist on the Jordanian side as she realized that was Israel, responding with a sniff and, it seemed, “well, I don’t need to go any closer, then.” There seemed a combined fascination, fear, and irritation among our group as various tour guides pointed out which lights were Israel, beyond which set of trees, etc. Syria is still formally at war with Israel, and Syrians cannot go to Israel even if they wanted to.
Swimming. . . we got to swim in the Dead Sea (more a matter of “bobbing” than swimming), the Red Sea (I waded, Neil swam and saw some nice fish while holding to his face a child’s snorkel set which was too small to fit), and thermal hot springs. How does this work in a Muslim culture, we were eager to know. Well, all the women say they’ll swim but nearly all end up wading. Those who do swim generally wear covering (depending on the sophistication of their swimming gear, could be lycra swim suits, or just pants and a shirt) from ankle to wrist to neck). At the thermal springs, there was a “women only” area with high walls, in which the women still wore at least a swim suit with skirty-thing and biker-type shorts beneath, but there they uncovered their hair. My questions were graciously answered by many female friends.
New friends . . . Several wonderful new friends looked out for us: Moona (who shared much better food than we shared with her, loaned us sweaters when we were cold, laughed a lot, tolerated and even tried to understand our bad Arabic, practiced reading with us (she’s a grandma so I think this came naturally), argued with the bathroom guy who charged me 5 times what others were paying and got my money back. Rami (grad student in archeological restoration and conservation, good photographer, co-leader of the trip; he always made sure we knew when / where to go, ensured we were back on the bus, shared pictures and photo tips back-and-forth with Neil, told us how mosaics were preserved, and laughed at our bad jokes); Anita (young business-woman, hip-ster, fashionista, shopper, bathroom groupie); Myrna (young French teacher, photographer and picture-poser ad infinitum, sub-group organizer (dinner together back in Aleppo one week from tonight, okay?), who brought smiles, humor, beauty, grace, enthusiasm), Julie and Joaquim (Canadian and German couple working in Aleppo on water infrastructure, we shared expat stories, a distaste for high-volume Arabic music and yet another shopping mall stop, and together navigated the Jordan visa lines for foreigners). Others on the bus became less shy over the days, and were very helpful in translating a few facts about what we were seeing, or telling us when we were to be at breakfast, how many hours we had at Petra, whether to bring our swimsuits and/or a jacket, when to be back at the bus when we stopped at the mall, etc. Great group of people.
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