Three wheelin ain't what is used to be!
With my new resolve to talk less and see more, Chris and I went to see a historical sight outside of town yesterday morning. We started the moring bright and early when our friend Mohammad rang the doorbell and 8:30. Those of you that know me know I don't even operate at that time unless I am being paid, so it was a rough start to say the least.
Within the half-hour Chris was up, and after lounging and talking for a bit we three were off for our morning coffee, and to meet up with our friend Hratch. It was a nice morning with a slight breeze so the sky seemed extra blue, and the morning serving of pollution was minimal. Friday is also the holy day so most people were off the streets and doing other things...which was nice. Within ten minutes or so we reached our seedy little coffee house that homes the AC to Aleppo's DC. We are often drug into many conversations, mostly politics, and asked about anything from travel to ice hockey (I met a Flames fan from Philly). Yesterday morning we met a fellow that believed Kamal Attaturk was a Jew. Interesting but laughable. I have found that many people here were taught a history that wouldn't quite match up with almost any other country's in the world. The have their own veiw on things up at the ole' Ministry.
After our 'enlightening' conversation with that sandy haired stranger we left, without Hratch, to get our morning dose of Fool. This has become a weekly occurance in that at least once a week we meet the boys for fool and coffee. I can't describe fool without making the disclaimer that is sounds way worse than it really tastes. It is a certain type of large bean that are stewed with some spices and served with Tahineh, olive oil, lemon juice and peppers. The presentation is interesting but mixed all together it looks like a bowl of barf. You eat it with flatbread and pieces of onion. It is a strange taste at first but it really grows on you. Other than that it keeps you feeling full all day, and gives you great energy. Most people say it makes them feel sleepy, but I feel great when I eat it. I am getting the recipe and will make fool for all of my friends when I come home.
After fool we leave for the minibus station that is a short walk away. As Mohammad negotiates the price I am filming dangling tea bags thrown onto the ceiling, whose tabs are blowing in the wind to the Meuzzin calling the daily prayer. It's a cool little video - pure luck actually, but it really came out nice. We proceeded to our microbus and piled into the back with people smelling of fuel oil and a few villagers. A twenty minute death ride brought us to a nice village outside of town where we dropped of the passengers and then continued on to the citadel.
It seems St. Simeon was a crazy old man that was famous from sitting on a column for thirty-eight years. The grounds were build around 400 BC and the main buildings were a sanctuary and a church of the Byzantine era. The area was later walled and turned into a Citadel. I had a wonderful time wandering around, took great pictures (thanks for the camera Mom, J, and Sue), and befreinded three local dogs that lived on the grounds. After deciding to hitch, over paying a stupid price for a ride back to the village, the dogs escorted us for a mile or so until we were picked up by a three-wheeler truck. This wasn't your 1980's ATV with lego tires, it was your 1980's BIG ATV with motorcycle tires and a covered truck bed! What the hell right...so we three piled in back and gave the driver fifty lira($1)to take us to town. That was one interesting ride - I think Chris has a picture from the back as my camera had run out of power.
Upon returning to the village we negotiated another ride back into Aleppo and shortly we were back home. Later that night we met back up with the boys for a few beers at a tourist hotel that has a bar in the basement. Another frustrating experience with financial racism - "I am white, I must be rich, I must like paying double for everything." The mistake the barman made was thinknig Hratch was a foreigner. Hratch got pissed when he found out how much the beer was costing. All three guys argued with the bartender, AND the manager about foreign prices and arab prices. Even the arabs were pissed about the price differences. Our friends are educated, western thinking, and by no way representative of the majority here - most people would jack you for as much money as they thought they could without thinking twice. God I love this place...
So eventually we drank our "discounted" beer (that was the prize for the arguement) and worked our way back home for a long sleep. Annoyingly I woke this morning at the same time with no prompting, and we went to immigrations to get another exit visa for Lebannon next week. Guess what happened...you got it...no visa for us! Seems we need more paper and probably more money. So, with all luck, we will visit some great spots in Lebannon next weekend - if God wills it. Inchala...Buchara
Within the half-hour Chris was up, and after lounging and talking for a bit we three were off for our morning coffee, and to meet up with our friend Hratch. It was a nice morning with a slight breeze so the sky seemed extra blue, and the morning serving of pollution was minimal. Friday is also the holy day so most people were off the streets and doing other things...which was nice. Within ten minutes or so we reached our seedy little coffee house that homes the AC to Aleppo's DC. We are often drug into many conversations, mostly politics, and asked about anything from travel to ice hockey (I met a Flames fan from Philly). Yesterday morning we met a fellow that believed Kamal Attaturk was a Jew. Interesting but laughable. I have found that many people here were taught a history that wouldn't quite match up with almost any other country's in the world. The have their own veiw on things up at the ole' Ministry.
After our 'enlightening' conversation with that sandy haired stranger we left, without Hratch, to get our morning dose of Fool. This has become a weekly occurance in that at least once a week we meet the boys for fool and coffee. I can't describe fool without making the disclaimer that is sounds way worse than it really tastes. It is a certain type of large bean that are stewed with some spices and served with Tahineh, olive oil, lemon juice and peppers. The presentation is interesting but mixed all together it looks like a bowl of barf. You eat it with flatbread and pieces of onion. It is a strange taste at first but it really grows on you. Other than that it keeps you feeling full all day, and gives you great energy. Most people say it makes them feel sleepy, but I feel great when I eat it. I am getting the recipe and will make fool for all of my friends when I come home.
After fool we leave for the minibus station that is a short walk away. As Mohammad negotiates the price I am filming dangling tea bags thrown onto the ceiling, whose tabs are blowing in the wind to the Meuzzin calling the daily prayer. It's a cool little video - pure luck actually, but it really came out nice. We proceeded to our microbus and piled into the back with people smelling of fuel oil and a few villagers. A twenty minute death ride brought us to a nice village outside of town where we dropped of the passengers and then continued on to the citadel.
It seems St. Simeon was a crazy old man that was famous from sitting on a column for thirty-eight years. The grounds were build around 400 BC and the main buildings were a sanctuary and a church of the Byzantine era. The area was later walled and turned into a Citadel. I had a wonderful time wandering around, took great pictures (thanks for the camera Mom, J, and Sue), and befreinded three local dogs that lived on the grounds. After deciding to hitch, over paying a stupid price for a ride back to the village, the dogs escorted us for a mile or so until we were picked up by a three-wheeler truck. This wasn't your 1980's ATV with lego tires, it was your 1980's BIG ATV with motorcycle tires and a covered truck bed! What the hell right...so we three piled in back and gave the driver fifty lira($1)to take us to town. That was one interesting ride - I think Chris has a picture from the back as my camera had run out of power.
Upon returning to the village we negotiated another ride back into Aleppo and shortly we were back home. Later that night we met back up with the boys for a few beers at a tourist hotel that has a bar in the basement. Another frustrating experience with financial racism - "I am white, I must be rich, I must like paying double for everything." The mistake the barman made was thinknig Hratch was a foreigner. Hratch got pissed when he found out how much the beer was costing. All three guys argued with the bartender, AND the manager about foreign prices and arab prices. Even the arabs were pissed about the price differences. Our friends are educated, western thinking, and by no way representative of the majority here - most people would jack you for as much money as they thought they could without thinking twice. God I love this place...
So eventually we drank our "discounted" beer (that was the prize for the arguement) and worked our way back home for a long sleep. Annoyingly I woke this morning at the same time with no prompting, and we went to immigrations to get another exit visa for Lebannon next week. Guess what happened...you got it...no visa for us! Seems we need more paper and probably more money. So, with all luck, we will visit some great spots in Lebannon next weekend - if God wills it. Inchala...Buchara
posted by chris @ Saturday, January 15, 2005
1 Comments:
At 1/24/2005 6:12 PM,
Anonymous said…
At once I envy your adventure and feel your pain. I've travelled, you know, so I am acquainted with the 'gouge-the-foreigner' treatment. Sometimes I fight, usually I knuckle under due to fatigue. I remember catching myself in what became a heated argument for me--then I realized I was fighting for about 50 cents. I was almost ashamed at how I was so easily dragged into the moment. The combination of heat, chaos, fatigue, an apparent social anarchy, etc.--it gets the better of you sometimes.
I do remember being at an airport ticket counter, and again the same experience at a bus station. No queue was being observed, and I started out by politely acknowledging the people I had seen at the place before me. Then, as the moment progressed, more people just came and took 'cuts'. It didn't take long to become impatient.
In a moment, I raised my voice at the next poor guy who stepped in front of me. He likely didn't understand my language, but I reckon that translation was easy to make. I got wide-eyed and asserted myself. It was a moment that I wasn't proud of (due to the loss of decorum). Interestingly, after I had a minor confrontation, with a lot of pointing and animated hand gestures, the rest of the group came into a queue.
You see, I thought that the general social choas indicated that there was no such thing as a line. However, the moment indicated that they all knew exactly what it was to stand in line, but none of them elected to respect it until someone kind of jammed it into the moment.
Further, it was a very relieved attendant behind the counter that was able to work more effectively, and even seemed appreciative that someone made a statement.
I appreciate your frustration at the apparent lack of social order. A thing like that is an indicator of the kind of work that needs to be done.
My father and I have this ongoing conversation. I end up on the side that the inspiration has to come from inside the community. He contends that change to the social order can be effectively introduced from outside, as in the model of the English in India.
I'd be interested in your perspective, as you are living in it right now.
Love and respect and kindest regards,
taaj
ttsuri@comcast.net
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