From the Hilltop Tower with a Smile

Whoever afeared upon mine safety or life - hear ye this that mine eyes now resteth upon the milky Mediterranean, 8 luxurious stories height tup - from a gloriamorous tower glowering above the beating heart of Beirut city. In other words, those who were concerned can now rest easily - I made it.

But damn...the last 5 days took me through the highs and lows in ways that were sweet and melodious and explosive, wretched and most importantly, tasty.

Syria is a country ruled by a dictator. That much is obvious. The police-enforced appeal of Bashir is so overwhelmingly laughable that if it weren't so terrible, it would be wonderful. His photo is everywhere staring down, Big Brother, from every billboard, poster, window, bumpersticker, government and non-government building, and pretty much every other surface you can imagine. There are three main pictures - One with him looking with dignity off into the future, one with a sly quasi-sexy smile, and the other like a Hells Angel badass wearing shades and being cool. There are also, though not as many, pictures of his father, the former president, some of which are done so as to display his ghosted figure looking over the shoulder of his son like a constant reminder to vigilence.

A few Syrian people told me that Arabs are smarter than Americans in that they know the difference between a country's people and its government - a few others asked me if I was aware that American people "are not welcome here." The rest seemed to know only one word of English, "Welcome." I've never been anywhere that I was constantly enfolded in an air of Welcomes and astonishment, though there were a few daggers held behind mantles that were trying to pick a fight. (Dear Kate Ray, I'm picking my battles well and did not rise to the occasion unless in the midst of a hitcherto civilized conversation with one I had come to trust.)

I'm reminded of the words of Winston Churchill to my surprise when we said, "I make it a policy never to criticize my country while abroad...I make up for lost time as soon as I return." In recent years I have been scathingly critical of America, our mentality, government policy, our general priorities. But I've found, in the face of either a joyful love of American culture because it has produced such gems as Britney Spears and The Mafia, or a militant hatred for it because of one hundred thousand painful slices of misinformation and prejudice - my reaction is the same: America is a very nice country, it's stunningly beautiful and there are more different types of people there than perhaps anywhere else on Earth. We have our share of ignorant bigots, but the greatest Universities in the world are there too. Family values may be lacking by Middle Eastern standards but parents' children (as a general trend) always come first. Maybe there is a certain degree of selfishness among the American urbanite, but with freedom of pursuit in life come freedom to be exactly who you are or want to be - and there are enough cheats and robbers in the midst of pious old Syria (where my host's expensive shoes got stolen IN a mosque, DURING prayertime) to convince me it's not a cultural value thing nearly so much as a question of possibilities. The Syrians I spoke with always seemed to be fishing for proof that they and their country were better than America - proof I refused to give them mostly because I knew they were looking for it.

One host I had said that Syrians really don't have any problem with the Jews in Israel...it"s just a political thing and they know as well as anyone that the people are just quiet pious people trying to live their lives. A few other Syrians told me that Syrians don't mind Jews in the world, it"s only those in Israel who are no better than military occupiers holding guns and going against the will of God.

So many conversations about religion. I don't know if it's because they are more religious, or they are so oppressed that there's little else in their lives to talk about. I met a huge spectrum of Syrians but they all were religious, they all prayed 5 times a day, and only a few of them would left me off without me explaining my own religious convictions. Sadly, as i expected, many of them could not conceive of anything beyond Muslim and Christian with the occasional, very rare Jew. If I said I was not a Muslim or a Christian - their eyebrows would furrow in consternation and they would shake their heads back and forth - wait...wait...what? So I fell to telling those who I didn't want to talk about it with that I was a Christian (Ishallah I be forgiven), and in the situations where I had already dug myself into a hole - I pointed to my Hare Krishna beads then pointed to the sky as said Allah. That generally placated them.

Regarding God, I hope everyone reading this knows that Allah is Arabic for "The God" - that is, the equivalent of God with a capital G. Arabic speaking Christians call God Allah in the same way Spanish speakers call it Dios. Allah is not a different entity that heathen Muslims worship. THis is a point that I think is really lost when English speakers emphasize that Muslims worship Allah while Christians worship God. Same Word. Same idea. That said, I got into multiple discussions with Muslims about it and they all seemed to think I was wrong and Allah is a different idea. Because they say there is no God save Allah and the gods of other religions are false. I tried to explain the linguistics behind it but they were having none of it. This blog was supposed to be about cross-cultural communication - well here's a knotted sticking point that it seems both English and Arabic speakers are adamant that there is a difference. As long as that opinion persists, reconciliation will be that much harder.

Let's see - I rode a bus 2 hours for $2. The hugest and unparalleledly most delicious falafels in the world cost roughly 40 cents in Syria. The oldest tidbits of archaeological interest can be found in Syria and the countries immediately around it (the Cradle of Civilization they call it). I had my first conversation with a girl wearing a headscarf on the bus from Aleppo to Homs - it turns out that she was studying philosophy in college and was one of 12 children. Later I met an Arabic literature major and he was one of 15 children. We drank Shay (tea) and discussed Arab politics and what is and is not possible for Syrians - for instance, politics makes it just about impossible for a Syrian to get a visa ANYWHERE in the world expect maybe Jordan or Lebanon. There are long lines at all the embassies and yet everyone in them has a 99% chance of being rejected. It's some morbid tale of Sisyphus - but they just keep on applying. The Saudis have made going on the hajj cost about $3000 for a Syrian who even as a doctor will have an incredibly difficult time getting a salary high enough to afford Internet for $50 a month.

I spent a full day discussing metaphysics with an English teacher/firefighter at his fire station. He would switch between granting me my views and trying to convert me to Islam - it was very subtle. Though every time he shot out with an indefatigable proof and a smile of self-satisfaction, I would remember my studies and I wouldn't tell him he was wrong, but more so just point out how there could be a hole in that particular proof. Then my proof that you don't need religion to be the most pious person on earth was a lengthy description of John Voorhees, the most loving and enthusiastic anti-dogmatist pro-life and humanity as it is, I know.

I got to Lebanon via bus from Homs (I didn't make it to Damascus - I'll go after I leave Beirut). and it took awhile at the border but it was smooth and painless. I rode with a Japanese girl I met at the station and we were given special treatment by authorities on both sides of the border. My Lebanese visa was free, and then we rode through the north half of the country along the seaside. The contrast between Syria and Lebanon could not have been greater. Syria is a truly cursed land. It is really hot flat dry brown and ugly. Lebanon is a paradise - a promised land of sorts. Stunning mountaincliffs with super verdant hills rolling steeply to the sea. An amazing seascape and the occasional series of ruins along the way. And Beirut reminds me of Santa Monica or Beverly Hills and the approach from the north is perfectly reminiscent of driving through Malibu before reaching LA. Downtown Beirut is one of the glitziest, most fashionable and expensive city centers I ever seen - both within and without the Middle East. They say it USED to be known as the Paris of the Middle East - I don't know why they say used to.

Anyway, I'm on the 8th floor of a brand new luxury hotel with a jaw-dropping view of the city, the sea, and the mountains all around: the type of apartment that would cost 5000 in Manhattan a month.

I hope all is well across the swim and I send my love.

tcm