Dear friends,
This will be more of a “blog” than my usual e-mails. No deep thoughts or political analysis, and not a publication-style essay. Just a little “Hello from Syria” message after three weeks of being here and not writing.
What prompted me to write, to connect across the ocean to where most of you are, is that my host father told me this morning that he had just seen a report on Al Jazeera about a 20,000 person protest in the US, something about a military training school. When I realized he was talking about the SOA (School of the Americas) I got excited. “The SOA protest was on Al Jazeera?” I asked incredulously. I can only wonder whether it finally got some decent media in the US this year as well or not. [For those of you who don’t know the SOA: soaw.org]
So… I imagine you might want to hear a bit about Syria. I came here to study Fus’ha (written/classical Arabic) for a month and to live with a Palestinian family that I met when doing Re-Plugged work here last February. My class is in Damascus, but the family lives in the extension of a refugee camp 20km outside of town called Khan Eshieh. It is super quiet and peaceful out here, something that I loved for the first week or two as I took the time to study and read and sleep, but I’m starting to feel a bit stifled by being in such a rural area (even though I go to the city every day).
Damascus is a beautiful city, and is the oldest capital in the world. The market in the old city attracts foreigners and Syrians alike, all of whom are pretty much considered tourists in the market. For the most part, Damascus feels like a very Arab city with less foreign influence than other cities I’ve seen around here (Beirut, Amman). There are still no McDonald’s anywhere to be found, although there is the new KFC phenomenon.
Life is very affordable here. It costs me 30 cents to get into the city from Khan Eshieh. Food is cheap, education and healthcare are subsidized by the government for Syrians and Palestinians (most of the new Iraqi immigrants do not have the same services). While the government has changed a bit over the years, it is still pretty socialist and fully secular. It’s one of the more stable countries in an unstable region, and people generally seem pretty happy.
Which makes the Big Brother feeling a little confusing. There are pictures of the president (Bashar Assad) everywhere – on billboards, houses, stores, cars. I hear from people that there are secret police in more places than we might think. The government collects people’s names and ID numbers when getting on certain buses and going into certain buildings. There is definitely some sort of norm that people are expected to fit into, and then within that is freedom for diversity. Most people seem to happily fit into that norm. Not me. Part of it is just familiarity, I’m sure, but I feel more comfortable in Palestine than here. The major reasons:
1. Palestine. While most people here are sympathetic to the Palestinian cause and are quick to criticize Israel, I can’t actually tell anyone that I’ve been there. See, the Syrian government prohibits people who have been to Palestine from coming here. Why? Because it’s all occupied by Israel and they see it as normalizing relations with Israel. So if they see an Israeli stamp on a passport (which could mean you’ve been hanging out on the beach in Tel Aviv or doing solidarity work in the West Bank or anything in between), they will deny you entry. So I have to keep a low profile about where I’ve been and where I’m going from here (my host family knows, of course, as do many of the other Palestinians I meet, but I can’t talk about it openly in Arabic class, for example, or even to taxi drivers – I’ve heard stories that may or may not be true of people getting turned in by taxi drivers and deported).
2. Being Jewish. I don’t understand the situation enough yet to know whether folks would be comfortable with my being Jewish, but my assumption is usually not. In Palestine people are more directly harmed by Jews on a daily basis, but there is also more contact in general, and thus more awareness that not all Jews are Israeli, not all Jews are Zionists, etc. Here I’m not quite sure that’s the case. So I’m worried that if I tell people I’m Jewish it could reflect badly on my host family, or that people might assume that I’m a spy. I could be wrong.
3. Gender. My hair is short. In Palestine, this often causes people to do a double take, or even sometimes to assume at first glance that I’m a man but to change their minds once I give a subtle cough (I do this sometimes when I know that men who are sitting next to me assume that I’m a man, because there is generally far less personal space between men in the Arab world than in the US and far more between men and women). Now, in Syria, I find that people don’t even look twice. I am almost consistently perceived as a man – and usually a Syrian man. Incredibly, I’ve found that even when I speak people often do not change this assumption (if I speak more than a few words, of course, they’ll hear my accent and figure out I’m not Syrian, but will still often think I’m a man). It’s interesting in many ways, but in such a gendered society it can also be awkward, like when the driver of a shared taxi orders me to squeeze in the front with him and another guy in order to let women get into the body of the car. Or when a man giving me directions puts his arm around me to push me in the right direction, something he clearly would not have done if he thought I was a woman. So I have to decide on a pretty constant basis whether to try to keep passing as male or to make my gender clear… I have more empathy right now for my trans friends than I ever have before (though of course it’s not the same and is only temporary for me).
I’ve also been sick for much of my time here, which I’m sure isn’t helping. First a cold, then stomach issues which seem (knock on wood) to finally be getting better.
The best thing as of late was my meeting a friend of a friend, a young woman who is a breath of fresh air in a way that almost makes me too un-self-conscious. She’s Syrian, but has gotten very interested both in Palestine and in Jews, having questioned her society’s assumptions about Jewish people. She’s planning to do Master’s work researching relations among Muslims, Christians and Jews in Andalusia, in pre-48 Palestine, and today in the Middle East, and how these relations have been affected by war. You can see how we might connect? So the other day we got together and I showed her a bunch of pictures of Palestine on my computer, occasionally saying, “Ramallah” and “Gaza” a little too loudly as I excitedly pointed to pictures I had taken. We’d look around nervously, but nobody was paying attention to us. We also talked about synagogues, Reconstructionist Judaism, and anti-Zionist Israelis.
I have another week here, then I will likely go to Lebanon for a few days and then make my way back to Palestine.
And that’s my update from Syria.
For those of you who I know, please send me your news. My being sick these last couple weeks has led to being homesick as well, and it would be great to hear from you.
Till soon,
Hannah
