My life in Syria

Caucasian Vacation Part III: The Real Armenia (Day 1)

2006-05-20T14:09:00.000+03:00

Armenia was a suprisingly short flight from Aleppo. We arrived in no time, and were in no way prepared for the spectacle that was the Armenian International Airport in Yerevan. Once you are off the plane you walk down a long hallway out into a customs area, just like every other airport. What wasn't like every other airport were the girls in old Russian uniforms and miniskirts that were the greeters. Both Chris and I started laughing as soon as we saw them. I mean really big cold war dress caps, and really tight miniskirts. Bleached blonde hair, a smile, and a little wave; the were stewerdesses for mother Russia...I mean Armenia. Once you get over the novelty of this pair, there was another pair in the visa booth. And another pair in the checkpoint booths. And another pair in the exit booths. Are there any men in this Army? The men were outside the gates. Lugging luggage on the inside of the airport, and fighting for taxi fares on the outside. Luckily Chris made a friend with the people he was sitting with and they helped us negotiate a decent price to go into town. From the airport the city looked like any other. Not as nice near the airport and nicer towards downtown. We couldn't really tell though...it was like three or four in the morning.

We found the student dorms/hostel place that was listed in our Lonely Planet and rang the bell. There was a guy sleeping in the room right off the door. Chris spotted his feet. We rang again. Finally this old guy got out of bed. I felt bad for waking him...he looked like he needed the sleep. He let us in and shortly a woman scampered down the stairs to see what we wanted. "Did we have a reservation?" she asked. Of course not; that would take planning which is a skill we seem to lack. She made a few phone calls wnd within fifteen minutes a tiny little women hobbled down the street to take us to some apartment for two nights. All in all they were very efficient in finding us a place to stay, and gave us a very good price. Our abode was located just across the street, up about four flights of stairs. We had running water (which I guess can be a problem), hot water (debatable), and the place to ourselves. She even gave us a key. Chris and I talked for a while about our plan of attack for the next day and hit the sack. I took the bed and he took the couch. We were out like a light.

The next morning I don't remember what time we awoke, but it wasn't too early and it wasn't too late. We decided to explore the town. Chris and I have always been big walkers and went off to explore on foot. We rounded about a quarter of downtown when we decided to cut into a park. By then we were looking for an ATM to exchange some money for the next two days. In this park we say the most amusing statue I have ever seen. The two fingers you give some when you tell them to "piss off." Or the European equivalent of "the bird." The statue was of the two fingers from the wrist up, and the other hand was cupping the palm while the two fingers were up. It was odd and it became our hand signal for the next week. Not just the two fingers...you had to cup the palm also. A sort of cryptic fuck you. People were really amused and befuddled everytime we did this to each other. It's thier damn statue and they don't even know what it means.

After getting some bad sandwiches and coffee we explored further into the center of town. Yerevan is on the build. There were many large buildings being constructed, and many old ones being renovated or destroyed. It had the sense of something coming. Like spring, things were growing. It also had the sense of old eastern block buildings and Russian architecture. For every nice building there were three or four that were straight concrete with random stuff hanging off the balconies. There were plenty of nice cars and new restaurants mixed in with old cars and businesses. We wandered into the Marriot to ask for directions and learned something very important. Actually we learned two things: do the math conversions before you buy the five dollar cappucino, and whenever you need help finding something go to the Mariott. The girl at the service desk in the Marriot was awesome. She explained stuff to us, and gave us directions, called people to find answers for us, and had a great smile to boot. We must have been amusing coming to town with no idea about anything and asking questions that your average Marriot patron wouldn't ask. We should have asked her about the statue.

What we found out that morning set our itenerary for the next two days. How to get to Lake Sevan, where to go that evening to drink, where was the train station and how much to get to Tbilisi. She was probably the most helpful person on our trip. We left to find the train station. It was a bit further than she mentioned. After walking for about an hour we found the station. Classic Russian architecture and empty. We actually caught the one lady the ran the place on her way to the bathroom, so she turned around and in broken English, worked out where we needed to go. Our tickets were pretty cheap. For a sleeper car I think we paid fourteen dollars each...or was that for two. Either way it was a cheap ride to Tbilisi for the next evening. I garuntee a bus ride and a hotel would have cost much more!

Having purchase our tickets we took a microbus back to our hotel and took a little nap before we attempted to go to Lake Sevan. When you mention Lake Sevan to Armenians they get all doe eyed and look off into the distance like they were remembering the best day of their life. I think this is actually the eyes rolling up to the part of the brain that creates fiction. Most Armenians I have met in Syria haven't been there. In fact, most of them haven't been to Armenia. Hence the fun of this trip was to put to test how beatiful Armenia was, based on accounts from people that have never, or rarely, been here.

The bus to Sevan was packed. When it pulled up people ran and pushed thier way on like it was the last bus on Earth. Again we both laughed. Whats the deal with pushing into lines. It's like these people think no other bus will come. Make a system where you buy a ticket with a seat number on it...even the Syrians figured that one out. We got on the next bus running and pushing (when you weigh 100 kilos you can really push your way onto a bus). We got on with a couple of other tourists. East Berliners that were on a short vacation. They had good English so we chatted the whole way to Sevan about Europe, Germany, the Middle East, etc. We arrived in Sevan after about an hour and we were all a bit shocked. It was really beat. Like an American Indian reservation beat. Worse than an African township beat. This place was grim. Grey, dilapidated, and old. Everything that was new was closed down...failed or bankrupted. The hotel the Germans were staying in didn't exist anymore. The guy, who spoke Russian, worked out with a taxi driver to look at a place on the lake he owned and would rent. First of all the lake is really big but there isn't anything there. Maybe there were a few nicer resort areas that were hidden away, but this place was pretty barren. All I could think of was Loch Ness...and I've never seen Loch Ness. I'm betting Nessy would turn her nose up at this place. The taxi guy's shack was laughable. Barely built, loose carpet laying on the floor, old shitty furniture. The German was trying hard not to show his disgust, but his friend was flat out not having anything to do with the place. I remember her saying something about crazy people and dirty...you get the picture. So they started arguing in Russian and he thanked them over and over again and politely declined. The bright side was we were walking distance from the old churches on the peninsula and could easily get up there from the beach.

Little did we know we arrived mid-mass. The main church is still in use, and there were monks singing inside one of the churches. From the top of the hill the view of the lake just confirmed my Loch feelings, and Chris agreed with me. Not much to look at but open space has beauty all of its own. It was really nice to hear the monks singing from inside the church, and they merrily went down the hill after the services had ended. Oficially Armenia is the first country to adopt Christianity as its state religion, and subsequently has many old churches scatterd around it's small area. Chris and I had planned of visiting these, and visiting the most famous at Echmiadzin tomorrow - for Easter.

The Germans found a monk that knew a guy that had an extra room in the maintenance house for the monestary. They were happy to have a place to stay that wasn't some scarry Russian's shack, and we were now looking for a way to get home. Apparently buses don't go back to Yerevan from Sevan after a certain time (nobody will tell you when) and we had to take a taxi back into town. This guy drove a taxi that seemed to run off natural gas. He filled up on something at a filling station but it wasn't gasoline. And he would drive and then coast, and then drive and then coast. I guess we just got the pikey driver that didn't want to use any more gas then he had to. Like the arab taxi driver that turn thier lights off so they don't burn out their bulbs. Dumbass.

After what seemed to be a very long time we eventually made it back to town. No what to do. We needed something to eat, and we wanted a nap. I can't remember what we ate, but we did take a nap, and then ventured out to go drinking! The girl at the Marriot reccomended a Jazz club to us that we found earlier and made out way to that evening. It actually had great Jazz, just not any girls to look at. Chris and I were playing this game where we timed how long it took us to find a girl that we would both give an eight out of ten to. A sort of "which country has the cutest girls" game. I can't remember how many tens of hours it took us to agree upon an eight in Yerevan but it was a long time. Armenians have pointy chins, eagle noses, and high rounded cheekbones. All of these things can be very cute if they are well blended and one or the other. Not when they are the predominant feature, and all occur at once. Needless to say it took us a long time to find an eight, and she deffinitely wasn't a pure-blood Armenian. Another small fact that we learned was that most Armenians speak Russian. The older ones mostly speak Russian. The middle aged ones know Russian and speak Armenain. The younger ones speak Armenian and know English. If we wanted to communicate with someone older our best chance was in German, younger in English. Anyone middle-aged we couldn't really talk to. With that said, our drinking was oriented with each other and and younger crowd. By the end of the evening we were drinking god knows what with this crazy bartender and were completely drunk. Almost stumbling drunk. We drank lots of water and tried to eat something...I don't remember much. I do know we felt like hammered shit, and looked like death warmed over. Which sets us up nicely to go repent our sins, on Easter Sunday, at the most famous Armenian church in the world...hungover.

Caucasian Vacation Part II: Armenia (TMBCITW)

2006-05-06T16:13:00.000+03:00

With our plans set(sort of), and our tickets purchased, we were off to the airport with one bag apiece, a few hundred dollars, fully charged IPods, and a desire to see the most beatuful country in the world(TMBCITW). Getting to the airport is never really a problem in Aleppo as taxis love to drive out there since they can try to stiff you for more money. Lucky for us we knew the scheme and knew exactly how much to pay. Arrival at the airport was mildly amusing since it was Friday afternoon and everyone was out having a picnic in the median and sides of the road, next to the airport highway. The exciting youth were doing there best to wreck thier motorcycles showing off to one another(and anyone else who would look), as well as run into cars, people, and the random concrete object.

In Aleppo the airport is always fun becuase everytime you go inside, you just never know what will happen. Sometimes you can purchase your exit stamp at a window in the lobby. Sometimes at a window on the other side of the security check. Sometimes you can get it from the guy that is checking your passport. This time it was out in the lobby; we found this out after having gone through all the security checks and then having to walk all the way back out to pay two bucks for a stamp. The window inside had been covered in carboard and taped shut with no sign. The best part about this was that we just walked right back through all of the security checks without being checked. What's up gun or bomb! How easy would that be. We didn't even go back through the screeners. Eh no problem just go right ahead! Needless to say we felt EXTRA safe in the Aleppo airport. We arrived with about an hour and a half to spare and had to convince the lazy slacker behind the counter that we actaully DID want to check our bags, and that meant that he actually DID have to type on his little computer. AFter checknig in, and getting our bags checked, we took our carry-ons up stairs to the duty-free. On previous travels I had learned that a friend of ours from last year was currently working in this particular shop, and I wanted to go see if he was working so Chris could say hi. I also wanted to buy some headphones...my crappy Ipod earbuds were buzzing and I wanted something that wasn't the size of an Air Traffic Controller's headset for my week long travels. After finding Salaam, and getting some headphones, Chris and I settled in for a short wait until our flight began boarding. So we thought.

When we walked upstairs we noticed on one of the screens that our flight would be boarding soon, and when we went back to check, the sign said our flight was boarding. The only thing was, the giant line of old russian looking ladies sitting and waiting told us that the plane wasn't boarding yet. We asked at the boarding checkpoint and they told us upstairs. Ok, so we went upstairs and looked for a gate. I didn't remember a gate upstairs but maybe they were adding on. Nope. There is no gate upstairs...they were telling us to wait upstairs. After pacing around for a while, and not seeing any planes on the tarmac, we decided the plane we were catching a ride on hadn't arrived yet. So there we were, in the airport, at the beginning of "three hour tour." We checked many times snd still nothing had changed. I asked inside the duty free (for aspirin first!) and they said the plane hadn't arrived yet, and the airline was buying everyone a beverage. Well hot damn a beverage! My time is deffinitely worth less than a two cent coffee! After sipping our "expresso" I overheard one of the employees say something in Arabic about something was coming after ten. Chris and I assumed that meant the plane and groaned in synchronicity. "Welcome in Syria!" Now we were scrambling for some entertainment.

Usually I travel with many things, and a deck of cards is one of them. For some reason I left my cards at home when we were packing and had to go back into the duty-free for some cards. The only cards they had were some Heineken cards that came in a promotional pack of three cans of beer(who drinks three beers), or with a cheap bottle of whisky. The beers were the cheapest option (we could drink them later), and they also came with a pen, a notepad, and DICE! After playing a few games of cards I started explaining how to play craps to Chris(thanks Dave). Shortly we were rollin' the bones against a wall in the airport betting with our new cards that we had split for placing bets. Gambling in Syria is illegal, but playing for cards isn't! After a short while we gathered a crowd of seedy looking russian guys around us. All extremely curious about what we were playing, and wanting in on the action. I think they understood the idea that we were playing a dice game, and it was a betting game, but after that the concept was lost. We let them throw and chatted with them a bit, but then they started pulling money out and started betting in Armenian on each others roll. We had to explain to a young guy that had pretty good English that it was illegal and he should tell them. He was from Aleppo and knew already, and quickly told them to hide their money or they will get in trouble. They just took our cards and spread them over the pile of cash. By this time we were just amused by the scene and sat watching. Eventually they won/lost and went away. Back to throwing for cards. The young guy came back over to us and told us that these were bad men, criminals, and we should stay away. How fitting, the first people we meet on our way to a failed Russian state were considered criminals by thier own kind. SWEET!

Eventually we saw the old ladies start to rile and shift, signalling the arrival of the airplane. This was about ten-thirty in the evening. So after many hands of cards, many games of craps, music, Sudoku, reading books, and chatting to people, our plane finally arrived. Getting on the plane was a different story. When I first arrived in Syria I was amazed at how unorganized everything was. Nobody knew how to line up, stay within lines, or had any idea of taking turns. Everything was, for a lack of a better word, a clusterfuck. This how arabs are...Armenians are worse. I saw people climbing over each other to get in line, cutting, pushing; it was mayhem. Everyone was running like it was the last roll of toilet paper on Mother Russia's shelf. We just waited back and let everyone push ahead. We had been waiting all that time...what was a few more minutes.

Once we were on the plane it was more of the same. I actually felt really bad for the flight attendants. They were screaming at the passengers like you would an unruly class of children. Saying things like "we can't take off unless you all sit down!" I was half expecting the captian to shout over the intercomm "do you want me to pull this plane over?!" People were stealing each others seats, yelling at each other over luggage. At one point a steward just looked at me sitting there calmly, and shook his head. I couldn't help but start to laugh. I apologized to him and told him that I sympathized. He was oviously flustered, and for an Arab to be flustered with a crowd of people really says something. When all the "children" were put into the correct seats, and all the "crying" had stopped, we were ready for takeoff. What a mess, but I now know a group of people worse than Arabs at lining-up...Russians!

Chris was sitting ahead of me on the flight. Our ticket agent didn't book us together, so we just listed to music and worked on the same Sudoku puzzles. Racing each other in seperate seats as we flew through the night sky. Our competition was interrupted by an evening meal. We didn't expect that...and it was actually good(who would expect that)! After my meal I finished my puzzle ahead of Chris and promptly got up to rub his nose in it (he always beats me in chess). Then we started our desent. After all that time waiting, our flight was only just over an hour. The wierd thing was that even though Armenia is not located much further East than Syria, it was two hours ahead on the clock. Just one of the many ways, we were soon to find out, why Armenia was "special."

Tune in next time to find out why a statue of two fingers explains a mother's sorrow for her lost children...

Caucasian Vacation Part I: Leaving for Armenia

2006-04-30T17:29:00.000+03:00

I never in my life thought I would attempt a liesurely road trip through the Southern Caucus states, and yet Chris and I made a bum rush through three countries in seven days. Unfortunately we were unable to fit Azerbajian into our limited time table, but tune in next year for our trip of "The Five Russian Stans."

We started out originally planning to travel by bus into Turkey, through Eastern Turkey to Lake Van, up into Norhteastern Turkey, and then across the border into Georgia. We were then either giong to take the bus or the night train to Tbilisi from Batumi, depending on the cost of travel and how much time we had left on the clock. From Tbilisi we deffinitely planned to travel to Yerevan on the night train, view local Armenia by bus, and fly home by plane. Ambitious I know, but deffinitely do-able.

First I must say that what Chris and I lost in forward planning, we made up for in zeal. We had both done limited reasearch on visas and travel to each of our destinations. Knowing that it was a possibility to travel with very little planning, we basically left our critical planning for when Chris arrived in country(Syria), from where we could arrange flight and visa detail. The first problem we ran into was the Armenian Visa. You can apply for a transit visa for cheap, but they would need your passport for a week. Not possible. They can expedite the service for a wad of cash, but one of the reasons for this trip was that it was affordable. So were not paying for chochky service. You can cross the border into Yerevan with no trouble, but the visa is turning out to be sticky (pricey) business.
We then looked into flying into Yerevan instead of leaving from Yerevan. To be honest the reason we didn't want to fly into Yerevan in the first place is becuase we knew we would get lazy and enjoy the "Western" culture after being in Syria, and end up just hanging out and drinking for a week. But now we didn't have a choice. As it turned out, we could fly in and get a three-day transit visa at the airport for just twenty bucks. The problem was that we had to leave the evening of the day after we wanted to begin. So we can get a cheap visa, get into the country, but we lose at least a day. Better than nothing!

Materials: we had a Lonely Planet guide to the Middle East, the first ever printed Lonely Planet guide to the Caucasus(this is the worst travel book I have ever seen - rare for Lonely Planet), and no phrasebooks of Turkish (Chris can say a few words), Kurdish (I can say please and thank you), Georgian, Armenian (I know random numbers and yes/no), and Russian. Obviously I have watched "Red Dawn" a million times and feel I know Russian extremely well. Chris has decent French, I have passable German, and between the two of us we can get by in Arabic.

Budget: Not including the airline ticket, we wanted to spend no more than thirty dollars a day - gifts not included.

Reason: Living in Syria you have no shortage of Armenians telling you Armenia is the most beautiful country on the face of the Earth. To hear them tell this conjures up images of angels on high over giant rolling fields of happy frolicking people. We decided to put this illusion to the test and see Armenia in all of it's failed communist glory. Unfortunately my Spring Break is only one week long so we had a decision to make. We could either tour just Armenia and come home, or take a peak at Armenia, and also take a peak at Georgia and Eastern Turkey. We decided it would be better to turn the trip into a "Caucasian Roadtrip," rather than just visiting Mother Armenia.

Final Plan: We now have seven days to visit Yerevan, Sevan, Georgia, Batumi, Erzerum(maybe), Dogubyzit(maybe), Van, Lake Van, and Diyarbakir, before we return to Syria, on only thirty dollars a day minus airfare.

Ready, set, go!

We went to the airlines and reserved the tickets, went to the money changer and got the official reciept for changing money for the tickets, bought the tickets, hashed out a schedule of where we wanted to be on what days, looked up some cheap hotels/hostels, and got our visa and money out, stuff packed, and got our minds ready to go. Actually, then we went to a friends house...and then a bar.

This was Thursday evening after school...we left for the airport in twenty hours.

The Philosophy of My Mouth

2006-03-27T19:59:00.001+03:00

Laying in the "chair" at your local dentist's office doesn't bring up exciting memories for most people. At best you'll remember the beautiful Dental Assistant that brushed her breasts up against you as she scraped away on your teeth. I imagine if you are one of those people who has been blessed with good teeth you may even enjoy going to the dentist for a cleaning or some trite conversation about dental hygenics. I, on the other hand, am not blessed with good teeth. When I say good teeth I really mean strong teeth.

I had the untimely misfortune to be born in the American southwest at a time when there was an overabundant amount of floride in the water. The long lasting effects of this imbalance left my adult teeth (buckteeth to make matters worse) stained a random hue of light to dark yellow in spots. The buckteeth could be fixed and eventually were. The yellow wasn't bleached out until I was in high school and new technology made "bleaching" teeth affordable. While the yellow was gone the mark remained.

I distinctively have two memories of Sarah Lewis. The first is her vehemenently telling Brandy Morowski to say "No" when I asked her out at Skate Castle in the Sixth Grade. The second is her asking me why I never brushed my teeth. Ouch. I brush my teeth twice a day! Nothing hurts a kids ego more than a mean girl. I never did like her.

With trauma aside, I have never really been good with my teeth. I brushed mostly because our mother made us, but I can't say I ever really enjoyed brushing my teeth. Spanish inquisitors should have used braces to get information from the Gnostics. "The Iron Maiden is for sissies...put some braces on those heretics." I took care of my braces but I didn't accessorize them. I brushed and flossed and scrubbed in between them with that little crooked brush. I had plenty of bloody gums from them, and once was speared in the side of the mouth by a wire that broke loose. Some people put little colored bands around them. I didn't care.

Before braces I had a Frankel. I have no idea how to spell the name of the genius that made this thing, but it was big, it was pink, and I couldn't talk with it in my mouth. What a horrible thing to do to a Sixth Grader. I think I dug that thing out of the trash at school at least once a week. There it sat on my lunch tray all wrapped in tissue because no one wanted to look at it. I didn't want to look at it either, but my parents paid some masochist to make it for me. It was only a step up from headgear on the freak scale. I was really afraid of having headgear. What kind of social life could you ever dream of having if you wore head gear to school. I present my case: the only girl in our Elementary School who had head gear was a band geek in High School and aspired to be a librarian. Now that I am older I wished I played any instrument better and I love the library, but when I was young that stigma was a flaming pit of hell.

I had my fair share of cavities. I went from not brushing all the time and getting no cavities, to brushing all of the time and getting two. There was no right or wrong; no matter what I did I may have cavities and I couldn't really do anything about it. I have bad teeth.

Now imagine you are like me, maybe you even had a Frankel, and you have bad teeth. The last time I went to the dentist was when I was in Bootcamp. I had one cavity. Suprisingly they gave me novacaine - I was half expecting a guy to rip it out with a K-bar and then someone would run in and brand a tooth on my arm. Hoorah. It was on the up and up. But in my country if you don't have dental insurance, going to the dentist for a cleaning isn't cheap, let alone going in for a cavity if you know you are probably going to have one. Let's skip to the chase. Bootcamp was a while ago and I need a cleaning to say the least.

What brought me into the dentist a month or so ago was a broken tooth. I think it was decaying from the side. A gray, pulpy mess of decay that had weakened my already sub-par tooth. I actually got to see the inside of my tooth last time I was in the "chair." It was awesome; all beat and decayed. It's broken edges shot out like a Swiss Alp. COOOOL! So after the drilling took place I got to see the cleaned up version of my dental peak. Actually it looked like Mt. St. Helens when the dentist got done removing all the crud. So I had a Cinder Cone Volcano in my mouth. Good to know.

Today I had my volcano reclaimed. I nice mouth full of Amalgamum or whatever it is that they put in the hole. I kept wondering how they put this metal stuff in soft, and it harden quickly to last for years. It's the opposite of "melt in your mouth but not in your hands." I guess it's a chemical, but the scientist in me is always curious about these things. As I lay there staring at the cieling pondering such pearls of wisdom, I had a moment. I was looking beyond those working over me at that spot in the ceiling. You know that spot where every dentist hangs the picture of a kitten frolicking, or Garfield saying "hang in there." I found myself remembering every one of those horrible posters every time I had a filling. I remembered the creaking noise the filling material made as it was smeared into my tooth. The scraping noises, the suction hose. I had a lot of dental memories that have been stagnant for quite some time. And then I thought about something else. My dentist speaks English well and his associate speak ok. When they speak to me of course they speak in English. But as I was being worked on I was witness to a strange scene. Lights, creaking, spit and metal. Two people standing over me talking to each other in a foreign language that I only understood randomly. I started to think "what would it be like to be laying on a doctor's bed on some foreign battlefield, while someone you don't know and can't understand does his or her best to patch you up." At that point you're helpless or else you wouldn't be there. You just watch and listen while your fate may rest in the hands of a total stranger.

At that point I realized we put our faith in each other ever day. I know my tooth is no big deal, but having that experience just reminded me of how much we need each other. Everyone. Nobody can do it all alone. I can do a lot of stuff, but I couldn't operate on myself. For instance I can't teach myself Arabic. I can do some of the work, but someone else must fill in the blanks. I suppose on a grand scale we need each other to "fill in the blanks." Being in a foreign country and surrounded by different cultures and opinions, it's kind of nice knowing that somewhere here I am filling in. Like Syria has some sort of cavity and I am the wonder-metal. I'm not saving anyone's life right now, but who knows what will happen from all that I have done! Fillings of the world unite!

Now opening for nobody...

2006-03-22T19:15:00.000+02:00

I went out with a few friends the other night to one of the activities the French counsel sponsors for a week every year. It was a "blues" concert performed by some southern French band named Blues & Trouble; namely how you felt after hearing them play. In all fairness the percussionist that played random odd sounds and created moods was really good. The pianist was also a horn player and was excellent. The guitarist was technically sound as well as bassist, and the drummer had more of a Ringo role. The singer. Well she sort of had the air of an old French madam who was immitating Liza Monelli, who in turn was imitating Celia Cruz. It was heartfelt but not very good. They could maybe open at the Davenport Ramada, but when you are starved for ANY activity, the performance was an oasis in the desert.

I met a really cool guy from Aleppo who did his studies at U of M. At first I thought he was Danish or something. He carried himself different from other Syrians, and he was amazingly well spoken. I came to find out that he grew up here, taught himself most of his English, went to the states for his masters, and came back. The whole coming back thing really amazes me every time I hear it - I'm sure hey was sent back not by choice, but I intend to find out. It's not like Syrians are all that welcome in the states, and if they are, it is for a period of schooling and no more.

In other news, there is an official KFC in Damascus now. They have been working on getting it opened and sanctioned for a while, and a few months back they finally made whatever deals they needed to make for it to open. Even being in the axis of evil we can still get Kentucky's finest chicken! I thought the US wasn't doing business with Syria...you know, sanctions and all. Kind of like the way Cheney wasn't involved in oil deals with Iraq, through the nineties, with Haliburton. I guess an off-shore P.O. box is still a viable option these days as it was back then. Finger lickin' good all the way to the bank. Hipocrites the whole lot of 'em. I can count my weapons of mass destruction over a bucket of extra crispy thighs. Now THAT'S progress!

Did everyone see the Syrian woman who went head to head with some Islamic cleric about how Islam is responsible for the backwardness of the Middle East? Thanks for sending that website to me Erin! I thought for sure she would be dead by now, but as it turns out she lives in the states and everyone supports her. God, if she lived here she would be shot. Maybe not here in Syria. Here she would have a car accident. In Iraq she'd be given the choppy-chop. In Saudi Arabia, Pakistan, and many of the Gulf states she'd be hung...maybe shot, maybe even stoned old-school style. But she lives in the states so she gets a parade...or at least I hope she did; that woman has balls! I haven't heard much about it in the news here. The people here probably deny she is Syrian. Denial is the order of the day for most things. It's like like the whole society can somehow socially repress bad memories. What lady? She will come back around in a few months like that cartoon of Mohammad did. Nobody notices now, and then someone will stir the whole thing up into a frenzy. I don't see any Syrians fire bombing their own embassies. What's up with that?

I guess you choose your battles. If the society can repress their collective heartbreak, then they can also displace their anger onto something else like a consular office. Ahhh simple social psych in action. In a follow up to the whole banning Danish products fiasco. We took a trip to a chocolate factory where wafer bars are made. It was a prominant brand for the region, and the greatest thing about the whole trip was that they got there butter and sugar from Danish sources. I can just see someone chucking a molotov cocktail all-the-while eating a primarily danish confection. I take joy in the little things.

The grass IS greener!

2006-03-12T20:03:00.000+02:00

I must say every time I travel to Beirut I confirm my belief that it is a very open and progressive city, for the Middle East, that has a lot going on. Every place has it's problems but this place can be physically and culturally entertaining while it is governmentally problematic. One of my gripes about Aleppo is "there is nothing to do!" I terminally feel like I am twelve wanting to live in New York City, yet I am stuck in Loveland with no way to go anywhere else. That is the difference between Aleppo and Beirut. I will concede what most of the westerners that I have met in Beirut have said. Yes Aleppo has nice history, architecture, and food. It's people are friendly and it has a slower pace that makes it feel more homey. In my world reality kicks in after you have been here longer than a week. It's history is history, you will probably know more of it than many people here. It's architecture is nice in the old city but nothing compared to Beirut, and the food is good but all the same. You can eat Armenian food here, but I can find Armenian restaurants there as well. There are Armenian clubs here but you can only get in if you are Armenian. Armenians are just as welcoming as Arabs if they think you are Christian...and lose interest if you aren't. The people treat most foreigners warmly, but hold class and status pretty firm when it comes to one another. And finally, the pace is slow becuase nothing works, not because people enjoy life any more. If anything people here are lazy because there is no incentive to work.

It's funny when people romanticize about places you wouldn't think twice about, but what are they really idealizing. I guess they are looking at what they don't have, and nicely assigning it a positive value. What someone see's as a livable pace I see as lazy cause I have been caught in that "livable pace" trying to get something done to no avail. I can't really say Beirut is "better" than Haleb because one man's trash is another man's treasure as they say. I have met people that hate Beirut. I have met people that would choose to live in a wig-wam over a nice apartment. I guess we all have different values of good and right. I find myself continually forcing myself to not judge or place value on things. I end up with caveats in conversations like "for me" and "in my opinion." I guess the more you banter on about how much something sucks you will eventually run into someone who feels devalued and a little bent 'cause you just ultimately labled them.

I have learned more about how much tolerance I DON'T have being here than anything else. I study history and discuss politics, religion and current events with a very static approach. Of course I have my opinions and someone else has theirs, but I have been placing my values on other peoples realities. I owe the world an apology for being an ass.

Today I will re-assert my heart felt attempt at understanding the world as it is and not as I want it to be. I definitely have ideas about what would make the world great, but none of them include whining and belittling places and cultures. I do try but I have a long way to go.

The little ones are the fiercest...

2006-02-19T18:49:00.000+02:00

Today I witnessed one of the funniest things I have ever seen. The public school near our house just let out and the kids were making their usual commotion. I went out to the balcony to take in the sight and saw an older boy (maybe 8th grade) yelling at some younger boys (maybe 4th graders). I don't know what he said, or what had transpired before, but the little ones didn't care for it very much. They promplty took off their belts and collectively starting whooping this kids ASS! He was yelling and screaming at them, he got a few punches in too, but there were too many of them. They whooped the shit out of that kid, and eventually he had to flee. I have never in my life seen little kids gang up on one big one. All bullies in Syria take note; there is a mob of bad-ass fourth graders out there that you don't want to mess with!

Cartoons and Fire

2006-02-16T18:33:00.000+02:00

Well I have seen many stupid things in my life and they just keep coming. Do I think that the cartoon causing all of the recent troubles in the Middle East was racist? Yes. Do I think they should have not printed it? No.

I have found this week that freedom of speech is most definitely a cultural item. After debating this topic at length with many different people (Muslim and Christian), it seems that freedom of speech is a cultural phenomenon that we enjoy and expect in the states, but not everywhere else. Here in Syria all religions agreed that you don't have any choice what can be said and not said. You listen to your parents and those in power over you. Never can you just say what you want or feel because it is your freedom; others must come before you. Welcome to the Middle East.

If you don't like some product...don't buy it. If you know something will offend you...don't read it. It is the same philosophy of blaming tv for the ills of society. DON'T LET YOUR KIDS WATCH TV! But alas, TV is the best babysitter and it is easy to blame others for your lack of responsibility. Was this the first drawing of the prophet? Most definitely not. So why did so many people look at it; ogle it until they worked themselves into a frenzy? It's like telling me there are porno movies of my grandmother on the internet...do you think I am going to go look for them? I wouldn't believe you, but I wouldn't try to find them either. I just don't want to see that. That is self control. That is the issue.

I present for evidence this: those with self control sat outside the embassy in Damascus for a peaceful sit-in, some called for a boycott of Danish products, and still some called for political talks...etc. Now the others, the masses, "they", looked for it on the satellite. They looked in the papers, and on the internet and found everything they could about it. Then "they" got so worked up into an uncontrolable frenzy that "they" just had to do something. It had nothing to do with Islam, and everything to do with self control. Go burn something. Yeah! There is a great word for jackass in arabic...and it is used frequently.

I see a complete lack of self control all over this culture. In school, in the streets, in the Souks...everywhere. This place is a perfect example of surrendering to a higher authority without disciplining the self. Sorry to all my Syrian friends, but those that live here know exactly what I am talking about. Kids lash out at each other because they were never told not to. Things get done or don't get done as God wills it. No personal responsibility. People get mushed all the time by cars becuase each individual driver is the only one on the road(in his mind). Laws are suggestions unless they are punishable by death or hell. I tried to discuss the Golden Rule with a coworker and she didn't believe it would have any affect. I quote "if there wasn't a heaven and hell I swear I would take off all my clothes and run through the streets naked and have the sex. What would be the purpose in living, or keep me from just taking your house and killing you?" I find this to be a commonly held belief. Many people have no good will toward man unless there is fear of hell, or reward of heaven. Kohlberg would have a field day with this philosophy.

This led me into a discussion on philosophy and the history of religion. Again two blank eyes staring at me. I would think religious people would know the roots of their religion...WRONG! Not one person I know here can tell me who Zoroastor was. Nobody I talked to knew there are more than three religions in the world,what makes a religion; I would go on but it is depressing.

As per earlier posts I have written about the dying middle class that is the sole survivor to true arab culture. Peaceful, smart, artistic, caring people that hold the key to the past and the future. They were sitting peacefully in front of the embassy the day before it was burnt. They sit talking with one another and religious leaders about how to confront this problem responsibly, and in accordance with Shari'a. They will make plays about this and paint pictures. Many great conversations will be had. Unfortunately all of this will occur within small groups of people that are educated and have self control. The rest are the nameless masses that come like a flood and have no feeling or remorse for their lack of control. They will think that God willed their actions and they are not responsible. They are the majority. Not just in this country, but in most countries. I don't want to paint a picture of Islam and the Middle East being uneducated and dangerous. That would be drawing that picture all over again. The religion and culture aren't ignorant masses, but are most definitely responsible for them. Same for my country and every other.

The best way to have dealt with this would have been to have not said a thing at all. Eventually the crying baby learns to sleep without making mommy come running. If some political wonk needs so much attention that he or she draws a comic like the one in question, then he or she needs a time out! The reaction to this was nothing more than the class laughing at the class clown. It is what he wants and needs to feel important, and will only come back for more.

I hope in time people realize they are responsible for one another whether they like it or not. Religion is how your choose to be spiritual, not how you choose to live your life. If you make this choice it is yours and yours alone. Some people have philosophy, and others religion. Some people live their life dictated by culture, and some by family. Some live life like a leaf floating on a breeze. The only agreeable fact in life, from all types of beliefs and places, is that we are born here on this earth together and can't escape each other in the here and now. Take that for what you will, but I take it to mean that no matter what we believe, and where we are from, we must learn to get along. No zero-sum orientation, no tragedy of the commons, no heaven and hell, just take care of one another. Love each other as humans having an experience called life.

Back and ready to attack!

2006-01-26T20:16:00.000+02:00

I never realized that last year I disliked everything about this place just as much before Christmas break as I did this year. I went to Germany, had a good time, and came back not really caring so much. The same has happened this year. I went home, had a good time, and came back not really giving a shit what happens.

I can honestly admit that the little things still bother me, but not quite as much as they used to. Now I just let them go easier. I don't know why taking a vacation makes you let stuff go easier, but I should take them frequently.

My kids were excited to get back to school, and at the same time overwhelmed by the massive testing regiment they are being subjected to. Two weeks of a barrage of tests that do nothing more than reassure the government office that this is really a school (kind of), and we are not teaching them to think (kind of). God bless the Ministry of Education. Is it me or is that name somewhat Orwellian. I should watch out, the Ministry of Love might be reading this!

So Syria is still Syria. I went to the dentist yesterday to fix my broken tooth that became more broken. I felt like I had a Swiss alp in my mouth. Apparently my dentist attended Tufts University in Massachusets, and is board certified for dentistry, surgury, and implants. So now I have a board certified (American) Optometrist and Dentist. My Doctor is board certified in England as a Cardiologist. I guess I can settle for a brit. Their slow health care system can't be any better than our financially corrupt one.

I have been reading every day and am going to hit the gym starting tomorrow. I really miss being able to go out. There is truly nothing here to do other than focus on my health and self education. I should be strong and well read by the end of the year. Just like Papa Hemingway. My beard needs to get more grey though!

Wow I Really Suck!

2005-12-13T19:08:00.000+02:00

I just looked at my screen and realized I haven't written anything this year. I guess I haven't felt much like writing. I also feel so frustrated and tired I don't even want to think about some of the problems that arise during my school day.

I have turned to a new way of coping...trying to understand the culture in hope of a good explaniation for why things are the way they are. A few friends have been on the recieving end of this query and have been very helpful. Finding a "feel" for Arab culture is a very fluid endeavor. I think I can provide a decent summary of American culture to most people here, but I have been hard-pressed to find someone who can relate their culture to me with the same confidence and ease.

I believe part of this problem lies mainly with how completely different the Arab world really is. I know everyone has Iraq on the brain, but the parts of the Middle East can't really be lumped together with that much ease. Not all arabs are the same. Firstly, I had to minimize my request to "what is Syrian culture" becuase Arabs in different parts of a country can be so different that lumping them together is impossible. With help I defined Syrian culture as lifestyle, quality of life, and expectations from society. For instance, in America we lead similiar lifestyles in that we are educated similiarly, we are similiar consumers and producers, and depending on ethnicity and socio-economics, we expect the same freedoms from our government.

In Syria there are many degrees of socio-economics, but mainly there is a wealthy class, and a poor class. When I say wealthy I mean having the ability to purchase luxury items, travel on vactions, and afford automobiles and other "high cost" technology for the region. The poor live at a sustenance level, have few or no luxury items, can't vacation further than local regions(many can't afford a Hajj), and travel by service microbus mostly. The seperation between these two groups is gastly. The guestimate for the poor, under previous definition, would range in the sixty to eighty percent range. There is a dwindling middle class here and a small upper class that would make up the "wealthy" statistic. This in mind, the few on the top end enjoy private schools and have far more freedoms to educate themselves outside the country for long periods of time. The poor classes have shoddy at best public schools that do no more than indoctrinate into the ruling political machine and maintain a level of ignorance in a society that claims to be well educated. Different ethnic groups such as Armenians and Kurds live outside the norm of society living within their own communities, speaking their own languages, and resenting being resented. The Kurds have been dealt the worst hand. Even here they are treated as second class citizens by society and shunned from many political events in fear of them gaining any sort of political clout. From what I have seen they definitely take advantage of the free university system, eventhough it seems unprofessional and trite.

To understand Syrian culture I find I have to understand the dark side of Syria to understand where the good lies.

THE DARK SIDE
It really hasn't been hard to find the darkness here as there is mass opression socially and politically as seen from Western eyes. What some call a close family system I call slavery; women are second class citizens that have legal rights but no rights outside the family. What some call devout religion I call control; the amount of ignorance perpetrated in the form of religion is just shocking. Some families are wonderful and some devout people love thier God, but many families take the social control and religious lifestyle too far. I have had many conversations with Christians and Muslims from strict and non-strict backgrounds. There is a feeling here that most people only act so devout because they are supposed to. I have seen and heard things that would make any Westerner blush, and yet I saw and heard them here. The hypocrisy of this place is amazing. One on one people want to seem Western and free, but return them to their friends and family and they are quiet and obedient, shying away from any social or familial criticism. The gossip vine runs long. When it comes to gossip, large cities might as well be small villiages because everyone will know what you are doing or did instantly. This is a society of "tattletales" and "I told you so's." Actually there wouln't be that problem if there were opportunities for individuals to get education and find employment, but unemployment is huge and unless your family has a job for you, you are really S.O.L. As for women, the situation is worse because you are raised to rely on your family, not support yourself, and obey. Obviously there are many families not like this but from what I can tell(and I have really dug on this one) if they are not this way they are an extreme minority. The tragic thing is girls are raised here like show-ponies. Once they reach a certain age they are let out of the stall to be trotted around and looked at, and then put away and groomed. This is their life. Maybe get married and mate, but this is still done in Syrian show-pony fasion. Dating here is called being engaged. If you are in your mid twenties and not married yet there might be gossip that you are a whore, lost your virginity, are crazy or problematic; you get the idea. If you go against your family you will be beaten into submission, and this place is one of the MOST progressive Arab countries. Once they get married the show-pony husband will go to his job which he has never had before, and work his ass off to support the princess-like needs of his show-pony wife. Add kids. Let them run free because you can't be bothered to do anything with them becuase you are a princess rock star that needs to find popularity and fame. You get the picture. If you don't I can explain away the rich parents I have seen free-range their kids and not even show up for a meeting cause they are sleeping at two in the afternoon, or show up looking like Britney Spears just after a stage concert, allthewhile still wearing the giant rock-star glasses. It's like that. If the parent aren't rich then enter devout religion over the show-pony lifestyle and imagine what kind of neurosis that will build in a child.

I could go on forever about what socially annoys me here, but nothing will change without the right political climate. The same people have been in control of this region for five thousand years. It isn't the same family or even the same religion. It just hasn't been THE people. The place has been ruled over since the beginning of time. It hasn't worked yet and it never will (pay attention Iraq). Every great empire had brought their version of peace, but every great empire has fallen, and these people have been RULED for that long. Imagine what that does to the psychology of the masses. Talk about learned helplessness, people here don't even try anymore. Instead of nurturing their growth into a democratic lifestyle as you would a child who needed to learn to behave, we (the US) have threatened them with just being ruled again. Good Job George. Being in the classroom all day I realize that this country is the one child that acts out because it is a latch-key kid. It's parents were never home, and when they were they didn't spend any time with the kids. This is a place that needs to be nurtured and guided, not punished and threatened.

I HAVE SEEN THE LIGHT
It took a long time to find, but I have found many amazing things in Syria. Firstly, it has some of the richest world history when compared to most other countries. The historical sites here are amazing. This place is one of the oldest inhabited regions on earth. Mankind learned to live together here (not very well obviously) long before Plato's Republic. The artwork and music of this region is ancient and important. As far as fine arts is concerned, this country is one of the beginning pillars to the world of art and music as we know it. The largest mosaic in the world is located just down the road. For as much as they dislike each other, the people here are amazingly welcoming to foreigners and have been known to be that way for some time. If it wasn't for Phonecian traders we wouldn't have our alphabet as we know it today.
Obviously these are some well known attributes of the Levantine Middle East, but with my search I have found more. The increasingly small middle class is the cultural life-blood of this country. During this day and age the rich want to be rich, and the poor don't know any better, but the middle-class has held on to the importance of education, understanding the fine arts, literature, and debate. If you find those imprisoned for speaking out they will be from an educated middle-class. Poetry readings happen behind closed doors, and plays are performed critical of modern government. Humanitarian groups secretely meet proudly discussing ways to make thier country better. Ambitious twenty-somethings can rattle off great ways of improving the economy, and even better schemes for escaping it! The main point is that even though there is a vary dark side to Syrian lifestyle it is in an infancy of cultural reform. The miniscule changes enacted by the government relieve huge pressure from advocacy groups and intellectuals. With every tiny withdrawl of control the "middle" asserts itself back onto the scene of Syrian life with art shows, plays, and open debates about reform. I have always known change was coming slowly but I never realized what type of change was upon these people. With little efforts made by the goverment the Syrian culture could again be widely accepted as being as amazing as it was once known.

In my search for finding culture here I have found a small peep-hole into what no Westerner could ever imagine. A thriving scene of intellectuals and artists, writers and producers, professors and businessmen. All living life in what I would call "Arab Culture." From the beginning I have stated to most who asked the difference between this country and mine is the ability to chase a dream, and hope that the dream can come true. Looking through my peep-hole I can see that others DO have this dream for their own country. A country that needs them so much more than they need it. A country that is spiraling down the drain of social and economic innequality. A country that could easily attain greatness. A country called Syria.

Mamma Always Said...

2005-11-29T17:45:00.000+02:00

You know that old adage "My mother always told me if you can't say something nice then don't say anything at all"?

...

My old gray pants!

2005-09-10T15:57:00.000+03:00

It's really amazing that no matter where you are, if you say something with authority people will really try to understand you. Much like your pet gets used to the tone of your voice not neccessarily the words you say, people can understand if you are asking a question, making a statement, etc. I was discussing this phenomenon in the back of a microbus with Mariah coming home from school the other day and she was saying that the word zuchinni worked for stop in all the countries she has visited. I countered by saying that you could really say anything, you just needed to say it like everyone else knew what it meant. I told her that I could say "my old gray pants" in a way that would stop the bus. She was sceptical. Well if you are reading this then you know me and I promptly announced "myoldgraypants" two or three time like I was saying "stop the bus" and everyone looked at me and the bus stopped. Bingo! It didn't help that she was laughing her face off and by the time we were out of the bus everyone was looking mildly amused at the spectacle she had created. I kept a straight face, after all, it was my ruse in the first place.

School is the same and dare I say worse this year than last year. I am teaching both Fourth grades now and didn't have a bus ride to school. I was told of this yesterday and just got desks in my undecorrated second room today. I quickly came up with the idea that I would have all classes I teach in my room, and the other room would be used for other subjects. Stale, boring, syrian style needs a stale boring syrian room - perfect! One looks like a prison and the other a class room. Now how to juggle the ten to fifteen minutes of homeroom time in the morning...God will swoop down and save me.

Maybe this week will show vast improvements in Syrian planning but as of now I intend to have half days, no books and many different coloring contests :)

Back in the saddle again

2005-08-31T20:33:00.000+03:00

Coming back to the Syria was much easier than I originally planned. At first I imagined it would be like two American Football teams vying for yards in a game. One side would be Western Culture and would have John English as it’s All-Star quarterback. The other side would be Eastern Culture with Mohammad Arabic as it’s star player. I envisioned the two sides battling it out in my mind for dominance, but in reality it is much more like Johnny and Hommudi sitting down to play a game of chess. A nice friendly game and when it’s over they start another. Maybe with a few more years of practice I will be able to switch languages and cultures like Pro Wrestlers hi-five to switch who’s getting a beat down on the mat., but currently I’m in the chess stage now. I have to strategically think about my culture and what language I am using, but it isn’t a battle anymore. One doesn’t have to be dominant over the other and I can say it is a nice feeling. I feel much more relaxed and free than I did last year. I am definitely looking forward to the year.

I wish I had more time to spend with my friends and my family but I got what I could while I could. I didn’t spend much time with my people in Denver and I didn’t get to see my Dad at all. For X-mas I plan to get to Ohio to see my Dad and spend more time with friends. I DID build a fence for my Mom and enjoyed building something since is had been a while. There really isn’t much for me to do in the way of crafts or projects over here outside of school related things. I miss wrenching on cars and helping friends with home stuff. I suppose soon I will have time for plenty of projects of my own.

Our new apartment is nice and it is in a good area for all things. We are close to a central shopping district and the other Westerners, but not so close we can’t be our own unit. We will probably be last picked up by the bus in the morning and first dropped off at the end of the day. We have two salons, a formal dining room, a TV room, two bedrooms, and nice kitchen, and separate bathrooms and showers. If you hold out for something nice you will get it eventually.

We found out this morning there is a new principal. Thank God they are phasing out Hank ‘cause I had to sit through another one of that jackass’ meetings this morning and if I have to listen to the same bullshit one more time I am going to kill someone (probably him). He has been spouting the same BS about vision and mission for over two years now. It doesn’t change, and he never does anything to implement his “vision” or “mission.” The whole discussion just turns my stomach after watching how little he actually does. If he could give anyone a job to complete, or even have a clue of what needs to be done and how to do it I would say that would be a start, but year after year we end up with the same speech about the same thing…MOVE ON! Everyone was REALLY happy when he introduced the new guy. He seemed like he would be a do’er instead of a thinker. We really need a do’er!

My Arabic is slowly coming back to the point where I left. Still I get people who think I am fluent because I know a little and just go hammering on about something I have no idea about. I tell them I don’t understand and they say the same thing about ninety percent the same with one or two words changed and about the same speed. Nice try but no cigar. If I say I don’t understand…it really means I don’t understand. We had a lady that kept calling on the phone today that thought if she kept calling back we would speak more Arabic each time. It was cute - she called like nine times. It was so annoying it was funny. We would pick up the phone and just starting ranting off to her in English the same way she would in Arabic and then hang up. It was a fun game we had for about a half hour.

We start school the eleventh and the new teachers are all scrambling for materials. The school hasn’t had any work done to it save a small support structure on the rood of the other building that they probably just started two weeks ago. Stiv and Mariah are still pretty optimistic about stuff but I come in on the lowball figures for times of operations and when things will happen. I have already gotten them to start betting on times and whether things will happen or not. Miss ya Chris!

So we are two weeks to school, nothings finished or even being worked on really, we have no materials and don’t know where to get them, and the busses will pick us up for school on Tuesday. My bet was 10:20. I figure they usually pick us up around 7:30 during school and that’s when they know who is coming and where they live. If they start at nine (I’m being optimistic) then they will figure it out and get to us around ten thirty. It’s a solid bet. Mariah went higher by thirty minutes, and Stiv went below her bet by one hour. Not fair…I had to bet first. They can always flank me and win by playing Hi/Low. Next time they go first!

Other than that, my friend is still being forced into marriage and pretty upset. Let me see, revolt and get physically and emotionally beaten, or accept that you are property and just marry off to some stranger. Good stuff. This place has it’s perks. Is there an open slave market for wives or is this something the families just negotiate by themselves. Maybe I can buy a nice wife that will learn to love me and then make my life living hell later on by micromanaging the family and being passive aggressive until she gets everything she wants. What a beautiful cycle of life! I haven’t found many things that I am really disheartened by being here, but the whole women are property and have to subjugate themselves to the family and the will of the man - that’s just bull. Nobody wants to admit that’s the way it is and they say they have all this choice in life, but right now I am seeing a lot of girls being emotionally and physically forced into marriage because their family deems it necessary. Let’s not forget they are not allowed to work to support themselves, or aren’t encouraged to take careers unless they don’t interfere with the family or husbands wishes. If they wanted to leave they couldn’t - they have no money, the will be social outcasts by their associates for doing what most have secretly wished, and then they would have nothing. What a pickle. So go along with the system, get a nice husband that hopefully treats you nice and keep a nice house. Aghhhhhhhh now that’s living. I don’t even know why they bother getting married in the first place. I would stay at home and make my parents miserable until they just paid me to leave, unfortunately here they would just drag you off and lock you in a room until you decided to “behave.” If you want to micromanage something get an ant farm, don’t have children! I know there are families out there that treat women with respect and the women in the family have free will, but unfortunately I have only seen the other side. It's the bigger side.

So other than that my return has been nice. I saw a guy get handcuffed on the plane to Newark because he was in insulin shock or something and was getting aggravated. The Sky Marshalls (plural) jumped on him and cuffed him. They took him up to first-class and put him in a big comfy chair and gave him some meds. It was a new one for me. Other than that I had uneventful flights. I slept for about six hours in the Milan airport, and got into town without a hitch. I have my room all set up and am ready to start playing football, planning for school, and learning more Arabic.

I hope all is well back at home and I will try and post some pictures soon!

Writer's Block

2005-08-12T04:24:00.000+03:00

Whew...good thing I took the last couple of months off to let my carpel-tunnel syndrome heal. You know I write so much...

After many emails asking for emails I am submitting my summer fun in written form. Upon arrival home I met up with most of my friends within a matter of days. I initially stayed at my brother's house, and then my mother's house, and then a night at Trish's house, and Victor's house, etc. I missed my family very much, and I didn't realize how much until I came home. A second realization of how much I love my family came during my week in Flagstaff, AZ where the whole "Brothers" side of the family had a full-on reunion. "Full-on" meaning lots of drinking, talking (verbal sparring really), discussing past and future, playing with the little ones, eating at the "singin' sirloin" and generally reconnecting. Family reunions are great.

So far this summer I have thrift shopped a few hundred books for the kids and teachers at school, built a huge pseudo recycled fence for my mom (will finish tomorrow), stocked up on a few new toys, bought gifts for friends, and hit golf balls. I've actually played twice this summer with my mother and her golfing buddies. All I can say is that I really suck at putting, but I can crush the long ball. Thanks for the putting tips Uncle Tony, I tried them out the other day and my putting improved ten fold.

In my last weeks before I return to Syria I am going to San Fran for a few days, and hopefully get to spend some more time with my brother and friends in town. All in all I have had a great summer and in many ways I am looking forward to starting the new year. Isn't it funny how students and teachers always count the "year" by when school starts and ends? What's the rest of the "year" called? I guess it doesn't count, or maybe I'll just call it "free time." Like when you are a little kid in class and you finish all your work you get "free time." I love free time.

I hope all of my friends and companions are having a wonderful summer. Chris you are a lazy slag and I hope you choke on your posh London pad. Cheers buddy! Hey with CAFTA being pushed through I can get you cheap Indian rugs and trinkets too!

Houston...We Have a Problem

2005-06-25T17:06:00.000+03:00

If I ever thought it was possible for anything to be easy in this country I must have been dreaming or high. Once again we are in a melee of problems and inneptitude of the school, it's owners, and affiliates. In typical NSA fasion we were mistakenly shown a very nice new apartment to live in for next year. It is blatantly obvious that this place it off limits. It took one week to get a commitment to see this sanctuary again, and even still we won't actually know if this will happen or not until this evening. Our adoration for this new nook only comes with such fervor after our attempts of seeing it again, and/or moving in, have been sideswiped by a futile attempt to put us into another one of the school's classic "shithole" aparments.

In the past few days we have looked at every rat-trap apartment that "Friends of NSA" own, lease, or knows someone who does the same. After much arguing, and generally trying to be a pain the ass we have earned an apointment to see this castle with an actualy key to get in - BONUS! I swear if we don't get into this apartment I will make everyone involved's life a living hell until I am either deported or my last bag is put away into my new abode. I am tired of the run-around.

On a special note: To Syrian Salma about teaching her people English
I think it is the only thing you can do here to affect change. The literacy rate for Arabic isn't amazingly high, and if you can teach anyone the business language of the world (English)at least they will have a chance at being informed. Even for me to be informed at a world level in Syria I must read at least five different sources. I don't know that all of these sources are available in Arabic so mostly people here, like people at home, get their news from one biased source and in their native language. And another thing, if you do come to teach try to teach from the top down because this isn't a place where change happens from the bottom up. I would love to know more about you and your ideas. Please email me at chrisinsyria@hotmail.com. I would love to hear your point of view on a few things.

OK kids I am coming home. I don't know exactly when (I don't have return tickets, a place to live for next year, or a contract for next year yet) but I should be home in a matter of a few days to a few weeks. I plan on sleeping in, hanging out, playing, and generally doing nothing, unless you have a project to do in which case I would love to help becuase I havn't gotten to build or fix anything all year.

If you are wondering I also plan to keep blogging from home this summer just in case there are any mind-opening realizations I have concerning the US and the Middle East, Syrian and American society, dating, food, or just about any other thing I can think of that is a complete opposite or exactly the same.

Fond Fun Due

2005-06-08T22:09:00.000+03:00

It HAS been a while since I have written anything...I forgot my logon name!

Well the end of the school year has come. I have about seven more days of school, and I fly home at the end of the month. I can't wait to do nothing all summer. Tomorrow I finish my first week in a two-week run of half-days at school. The most idiotic system I have ever seen: come to school, take a test, mess around until noon, and then go home and study for a test the next day. These aren't even comprehensive tests! I am testing on stuff we have been learning for a month to two weeks. Who needs two weeks to study for that? Agh....the Syrian way!

Chris and I have been entertained with the school fiasco and having fun with friends. We both miss Ben and Monika very much. They were two like minded people in a place where Western thinking is hard to come by...and they were our travel partners. Now we have to go see the Euphrates without them. Sorry guys.

On a better note, I scored the best goal of my life yesterday playing football (soccer for the Americans). I was very frustrated with a high level of individuality and lazyness that was being shown on the pitch, and traded up to come out of goal to attack from the midfield. Chris and our friend Bill were playing great; passing wonderfully around each other, and in general they had amazing energy and effort. I ran toward the goal from the midfield after our attack had been bunched up to the front right of the goal. Chris was fighting hard to get the ball back and Bill just gently pushed it out to me as I was approaching from about twnety yards. I was so angry that my focus allowed me to nail the ball over the crowd, off the goalie's hands and up into the left corner of the goal. It was BEAUTIFUL. At first I didn't believe I actually pelted the ball to where I intended it to go. I was so amazed at it's beauty that I totally forgot I was the one who struck the ball. After this split second reckoning I ran away with my fingers pointing out in a pseudo-celebratory run. It was great. Cheesy, but great. :)

I am making a list of the things to bring back next year. I have this feeling of not being done here. Me being me, because this place pisses me off so much I want to come back again. I want to do better at teaching, explore more of this world, and learn to deal with frustrating situations better. Syria is a hotbed of frustrating situations. You know...the whole "what doesn't kill you makes you stronger" thing. I eat that shit up. From my moments of weakness and inability I have taken away a drive to have the hardest situations thrown at me and to learn from them. I don't like feeling I don't know how to handle difficult situations, and the only way to change that is to be in them. So here I go again.

As I am making a list of things to bring back in the Fall, I will need a list of things to bring home when I come. Anyone need anything from Syria? I have the short list from those of you who I have kept in touch with, and anyone else who knows me just shoot of an email of what you want. I come in peace!

Take This Job and Shove It!

2005-05-06T20:42:00.000+03:00

Over that past few weeks I have been plauged with the sneezes. Now I have the wheezes. God help me if I get the cheeses :)

It's allergy season in Aleppo! I am making a run for some antihistamines post-haste. It hasn't been to bad, but the wheezes are a bit troublesome. I can't really play football too hard when I can't breath. I should get an inhaler!

Well the big news of the week is that Nine Fingered Ben got fired! Actually he was intellectually downsized. Reshuffled in a financing scheme? Not really...he got full pay. Apparently someone at the Ministry of Love found his resume had Social Studies teacher on it, and he teaches English. So as can be seen by a non-partial witness there is NO other reason Ben was let go. He wasn't let go for teaching the US election. No one from the Ministry of Misinformation came and tore the notes out of our students books. He wasn't let go for being a squeeky wheel. He wasn't let go for taking a bold stab at teaching the meaning of stereotypes. He never daringly discussed "Every Arab is a Terrorist" with his class and why this is a stereotype. He had no discussions at school. His students learned nothing. He never cared for his classes, his co-workers, or his families. He never recieved overwhelming support from all the families when he lost the tip of his finger at our OSHA approved facility. He never gave his best to make the school a better place. I'm sure he WILL come back when he has properly studied an approved ENGLISH curriculum. He never really knew enough English to teach English. His English sucked, pardon my French. He won't be missed by his students who he didn't tell what really happened. His coworkers won't be forced to cover his classes for no extra pay, nor will they recieve any grief when the middle school children don't pass any exams. None of this was the fault of our Principal or Director. Our principal didn't hire him as a Social Studies teacher. Our principal didn't encourage him to teach the election. Our principal never told him he should teach an American curicculum. Our principal is the best principal I have ever seen. Our school is the best school in Aleppo. Our school is the best school in the Middle East. Our school hires the most qualified teachers in the world. I can make 100 dollars and hour tutoring here. I HAVE seen pigs fly!

Note to the random reader

2005-05-06T20:36:00.000+03:00

Hello random reader,

I have written this blog for my friends, my family, and my sanity. All of the above understand my dry and somewhat odd sense of humor. Please understand that I never intend to make fun of anyone's Religion, Ideology, Ethos, Race, Nationality, Etc. I am very grateful for my experiences in the Middle East, and am also gracious to my host country Syria. I hope that if I have offended any random readers with my sense of humor, that they realize I am not making fun of anyone or anything, but just telling a story. I write how I would speak to my closest friends and to someone who doesn't know me this might seem a bit insensitive. I appologize for any offense.

Sincerely,

Chris

Now I've gone and done it!

2005-04-25T19:17:00.000+03:00

After much consideration and many days of fretting I have decided to release the bear back into the wild. At first he was a novelty. I found him rooting around in a trash can on the edge of town. Cute little guy...must have lost his momma in the great trash fire of '04. Well he took kindle to me after after I hosed him off and fed him some cereal. It's what I would've done for any of you!!!

After a few weeks he'd gotten pretty big and instead of being a novelty he became a full blown attraction. That day the bear and I were caught in the crowd I thought someone was going to get hurt. On the flip side he is progressing in Arabic much faster than I am, and often he acts as a translator for me.

We fastly became great friends and I am depressed from letting him go (actually he told me to piss off and got a job down in Homs translating documents to Bearsletongue). Anyway, since I have been without my bear and depressed, I stopped shaving. That was a few weeks ago.

Now when I curl up in bed at night I can almost imagine my long lost furry friend as the hair from my beard gets caught in my mouth, tickles my ear, and appears randomly on my shirt. Damn I miss that bear...

Thanks for heads up on my bad typing Boo Boo. I'm off to find me some pick-a-nick baskets!

Lazy Day

2005-04-22T18:58:00.000+03:00

Well I am finally caught up on my blogs, and now it is time to catch up on emails.

I found it difficult to write to anyone when I immediately returned and now I feel I am adjusted enough to reach out and touch someone. I enjoyed my days away and am looking forward to returning soon. Last week Chris and I spent the weekend in Beirut and it was marvelous. Beirut is no different now other than all of the Syrian flags and pictures of the leaders are nowhere to be found. The people were great and we had a wonderful time. I really really like Beirut.

This weekend was the Prophet's birthday so Chris and I played FIFA 2005 Football on our computer all day long! Happy birthday Mohammad....GOALLLLLL! It's a living. Tonight we are going out and tomorrow we are doing pretty much the same. Teaching in a Muslim/Christian country gives you twice the hollidays. Today we were going to check out Lake Assad, and the Euphrates river, but we overslept. There is always next week.

Chris and I are enjoying coaching the football team. We have our first test match against our rival school, and the week after that we managed to get a match against the club for the best pro soccer team in Syria...how cool is that! In May we have a tournament. It keeps us occupied. I am getting better at my playing. Instead of always falling and never scoring, last week I scored three goals and this week I beamed one in with my left and another from mid-field that ricoched off of Chris' chest to go in. Football is fun!

I hope all of my friends are well and I intend on emailing most of you post haste!

chris

Saturday Afternoon, April 8th, Sunny

2005-04-22T18:57:00.000+03:00

Last night Ben had a birthday party at his house. Chris ,Hattie (Chris’ girlfriend), and I went and had a fun time socializing with some of our co-workers. We brought Ben some beer and some of our music, and other people had brought food and deserts. I enjoy socializing with our co-workers, and at the same time feel sad that their different lifestyle doesn‘t offer them the opportunity to develop more of a sense of self. Most of the girls had to be home by ten, and one of our friends whom had been recently engaged was supposed to show up to Ben’s party. She is no longer working for the school now that she is engaged, and this party is the last time we will probably see her again. It is the way of things here.

I know many woman would have issue living here if they came from the West. Hattie remarked on this while talking to our friend Mohammad. Women don’t work when they are married, don’t really play sports at all, aren’t encouraged to be competitive or really draw attention to themselves in any way. We joked, sort of, about how “haram” Chris and Hattie could be in public. No touching, or really any Western expressions of joviality are acceptable for women here. While playing football the men treated her differently than us, and there are many places we can’t go with her at all.

The girls we work with are used to this, but if I were a woman I know it would bother me just the same. It bothers me as a man. I understand the culture is different and many women “choose” their role in life, but the unseen pressures of family and community are definitely a part of these choices. I imagine if the outside pressures were non-existent then each woman would chose different attitudes and eccentricities, but these pressures are always here. They are ever present in this place and will be for some time.

Having been here alone, and with no dating, I have thought much about relationships and marriage. I don’t think I could ever marry from a culture such as this - I need very outgoing women in my life. Every man or woman can definitely change beliefs and behaviors, but when they are so ingrained it is hard to change. For instance, our society encourages individuality. Your thoughts and desires are your own, and which the consequences also follow solely to you (in many cases). Here your thoughts might be yours but everything has a place also with your family, your friends, and your community. Things are done in groups. Dating is in groups, as are decisions made and paths chosen. I feel there is no true sense of “I” for the individual, and each person lives within the confines of his or her relative familial or communal structure. Obviously we have our relative and communal structures in the States, but the are individually led instead of group led.

Amazingly this doesn’t apply to things such as selfishness when it comes to our students. They mostly come from very group oriented families, yet as individuals they are more selfish and uncontrollable than any other children I have witnessed. Maybe it is with me they feel no pressure and act out against what their normal roles are at home. In this sense I am happy to provide them a safe atmosphere to grow and learn, but it is not conducive to a good classroom environment. I struggle with this opposition every day when I teach. I know I can not change a society, or even an individual, but only be an example of how a responsible “I” can act. In time I imagine our students will learn to be responsible individuals at school and responsible family members at home. I know in Western culture we could use more social and familial responsibility, but while I am here I wish for everyone to have more personal responsibility.

I hope deeply that our students will take this bit of Western culture with them as they move on throughout life. Many of them will leave this country for individual opportunity, and many will stay for familial obligation. For those that stay I hope they can impact on those they touch with social and economic responsibility. Only working together can these people rise out of the system they have to one that they all want. Syrians seem to be amazingly family oriented, but care little for their fellow statesmen. I only have a view of those in power but really they are the ones that need to hold up the rights and dreams of their fellow man.

Morning, Cloudy, New

2005-04-22T18:55:00.000+03:00

April 5th, 2005

To answer the questions of those that may wonder…yes the Middle East does have daylight savings time. I was late for my bus and inadvertently missed a day of school because of this transgression. Oh well, I need another day of adjustment anyway.

All things considered it takes me about six days to return to the Arab world. Three days of depression and straight sleeping due to travel, time change, and plain old missing my friends, family, and the western world. After the initial three days, it takes me another three days of staying inside and watching TV, cleaning, doing laundry; mostly just avoiding outside. After these six days I feel ready to take on the Arab world again. Maybe a more seasoned traveler can jump in-between cultures and places with little to no lag time but I am nothing close to a seasoned traveler. I am just a regular guy and regular guys need regiment and a sense of structure. Coming from a place that I feel is more structured to a place that seems to have little structure shocks my system a bit.

I know this place more now than before and I know there is definitely a system of structure here. But as one of my inner-city students told me once in Denver, if you aren’t in the gang and they don’t know you, then their world isn’t the same as yours even if you live next door. It is somewhat the same here. I am not a part of this world but an observer of it. No matter how many years I live here, or how well I can speak the language I will never be seen or treated as a part of the Arab world. If I married and stayed here, then my children would have a chance to be seen as a part of this world, but even then they would still be seen as outsiders due to appearance, education, and economic status. Much the same happens in England or the US where first generation immigrants are never seen as Americans or Britons, but with time and blending they all fit in eventually.

Chris and I discussed this at length one night where he told me in England it is the immigrant from India or Pakistan that moves in and usually isn’t accepted because of wearing a turban and having a heavy accent. Maybe their children are less traditional and more modern, and by the third generation they have full English accents and are drinking pints down at the pub. I guess in all places one must look and play the part to be considered an actor on the stage.

We have a family of cats taking up residence on our balcony since I left. Yellow tomcats; a male and two females I think. One of the females is pregnant or wounded because she acts lazy, moves slowly and is extremely noisy. Maybe she is in heat. Anyway, cats are like rats around here so I keep scaring them off the balcony. I have resorted to hosing them down since chasing them off doesn’t work. “You don’t have to go home, you just can’t stay here!” I sound like their bartender. If they keep coming back I am going to pee all over every way they climb onto the deck and take back my territory the old-old-school way. I love cats. I hate mange.

The things I deal with hear are so random and foreign to life back home. Being a minority doesn’t bother me at all after living and working in downtown Denver for so long, but I hate being stared at. I don’t know if I ever mentioned to anyone that staring here is an acceptable thing to do. I get stared at everywhere I go. And having long hair and a bear just blows these peoples tops, especially the villagers. City folk see you and just think you’re a foreigner. Villagers see you and think you are some kind of alien. I guess if I went into the back woods or the deep south they’d think the same things. Anything different is scary, even for me.
(ten minute break)
I just finished hosing down the cats again. The male was spraying my windowsill right next to where I was typing. Change of plan. Next time I see that little bastard I am going to pee on HIIM. I don’t like wild cats…they’re too smart. Well I’m off to drink some water to get ready for my next attack. Wish me luck!

Morning, Raining, Around the thirtieth…

2005-04-22T18:53:00.000+03:00

I was laying for many hours watching the tele trying to avoid the reality of being back in Syria. It didn’t hit me until I arrived at my gate in Heathrow. It wasn’t really a gate it was a gateway to a room that was away from the terminal and hidden from view. I already felt I was going to a guarded and separate place. There were British Airways officials checking documents and passport but I just felt pushed away. It is how I feel every time I come here.

Abandoned, cold, alone, stuffed into some uncomfortable place with complete strangers that all seem to share a small piece of my reality. Some of them look as if they are looking forward to going home. Some of them look as if they are caught in a distant dream of what they had just been apart. That waking stage of a dream where you want to go back to sleep after realizing you are not where you ought to be. When it is a good dream that is…when it is a bad dream you wake up and feel comfort in your surroundings. Syria is the later.

The long, cold, empty walkway was only inhabited by three people all of which were walking slowly down into the final boarding zone. We didn’t wait in comfort with the rest of the passengers that day, we were pointed down this long winding ramp that ended in a waiting room. Outside the room awaited a short bus ride to the plane. I felt like a cow sensing immanent doom wanting to flee, but there is only one way forward down the chute and onto the truck. I try not to think about what your average Syrian thinks about going back to Syria from a place like London, or Berlin, or even the US. I guess some really miss the sense of familiarity and home, otherwise people like some of the families ?I teach wouldn’t be here. For religious reason I can comprehend. Not for me personally but I can understand the need to feel religious and social comfort for someone else.

The plane was almost full and I knew it was going to be a long flight when a lady with a crying baby sat next to me, and another woman with two “seat kicking” children were behind me. After being kicked for ten minutes and all but telling the lady off, I moved to the bulkhead seat that was empty and in which the seat did not decline. I didn’t care. I can’t handle spoiled kids on the plane knowing that is what I am going back to in the classroom. I just wanted to be alone with my tired misery.

My comfort being here right now is actually having a laptop. It sounds silly but this allows me to write and know I can email and blog with more efficiency. I can connect with my friends and family with more efficiency. I didn’t feel homesick until I was at home. I felt out of place and still shaking off the bad dream I had been living. It didn’t register until I was at home, in a bar, loud music in my ears, and a drink in my hand. I felt out of place. I know I fit right in with every hipster in that place but
I hadn’t felt so alone in a long time. Like when I came home from the military knowing not one person I would meet could have any idea of the world I just came from. I didn’t want to dance I wanted to cry. I felt so alone I just sat there in silence. Luckily, an old friend, apart from the ones that were there and completely out of left field, walked up and dragged me out to the dance floor. It took me a while but I felt more at home. I went from feeling alone to feeling sad. Like I had missed so much. I was feeling the various stages of death for the past eight months of my former life. Not a bad party for a funeral.

Being here I feel I just woke up from the good dream. I want to go back to bed and hope that sweet dream comes back! I know it won’t but sleep cures all that ails. My internal clock is messed up again. It was when I went home and it is now again. I slept for at least a day. I couldn’t sleep when I got home and now I am wide awake in the wee hours of the morning. I watched movies all day and when the sun comes up a little more I am going to go out in the rain.

Spring is pretty here. The trees are budding and the flowers are blooming. The air is clean as it has been raining, and the stench of the local pollution hasn’t filled my nostrils yet. I do feel this is home which is a strange reality for me. I like little to nothing about this place, and the people are wishy-washy. Some of them are great and will give you the shirt off their back, and other will try their darnedest to steal the shirt off yours. I love ‘em and hate ‘em at the same time. What a relationship we have.

When I arrived in town I knew I would have to argue with someone to get a modest rate on a taxi ride into town. I am constantly annoyed by people thinking I am a rich tourist that has millions of dollars to throw away. For all of my friends, family, and anyone else who may read this head ONE warning: if you ever travel, know the customs, the currency, and how much you should pay for things. I am tired of following some dumb tourist that says “ hey it’s really only twenty cents” that turns to “it’s only a dollar or two” and eventually leads to every person who gets that dollar or two thinking they should get a dollar or two more. You want to give to charity…do some research and donate some money, or better yet, donate some time. Giving too much money to people when you are abroad throws the economy eschew and allows some merchants and beggars to feel entitled to extra money and handouts. Instead of doing something productive, kids learn to beg because someone will give them that money. I feel very strongly about not giving money to beggars in any country. Food, water, jobs all good but never money. Every time you give someone money for doing nothing you are subert9ing the system that you base your livelihood upon. I don’t like some aspects of capitalism but damn it if don’t believe in economic systems. If we lived in a barter economy you wouldn’t just hand something you toiled over to someone who didn’t have anything to trade.
Ethics 101 - what about the man with the starving family who steals bread to support his family? From what I have seen, these individuals are living a lifestyle far above the standard from tourist intervention. If the tourists stop…their lifestyle ceases to exist. They have no skill, make more than they should, and live beyond their means. We had a kid beg us for money at one of the ruins who was wearing new clothes, had new shoes on, and was well fed. Obviously begging was working out for his family. These kids are put out to sell gum or hawk whatever junk while there moms and dads do nothing. If kids can’t make money for mom and dad, mom and dad will have to make money. The society here supports them, which is funny because there is no social service. Basically by giving these kids money you are positively rewarding child labor and negligent parenting behaviors. I know there are people that are hungry and need work. Even here if you want work bad enough you can get it. I know guys that work two or three part time jobs driving buses or taxis, riding shotgun on long bus journeys, working shops at night, selling shit door-to-door. These guys are students and are hungry to survive. It’s possible. There aren’t that many jobs here but if you want to survive you can. Rewarding laziness shouldn’t be an option for anyone here, at home, or anywhere.

Education plays a part in all things, and while here, the lack of education plays a part in all things. One could argue that the worst off people have the worst or no education. This is true, the financially worst off people here have little to no education and generally are farmers, nomads, or do grunt labor or “blue collar” jobs just like at home. The structural similarities between here and home are actually mind boggling. The wealthiest few that own industry and are imbedded in government control the country. There is a middle class that is fairly small but still trying to be the “nouveau” rich, and there is a large number of people that are living on the bottom. The poorest people are the worst educated, hold manual labor jobs, and have the largest families, are very religious and aren‘t involved in the politics of their country very much. The middle class are educated to a state standard, work both blue and white collar jobs, have average size families, are moderately religious, and are involved in the countries politics on a discussion level. The upper class hold mostly white collar jobs, many own businesses, have smaller families, are more secular, and are involved in politics on an economic level. The elite own and run the country, marry into power groups and families, and don’t let religion and politics mix unless it has to do with money or power. Sound familiar?! And who says there isn’t a caste system anymore?

It’s getting lighter now and I am getting hungry. In the past two weeks I have met and made new friends, married off two old ones, and was continually told something that stills holds my thought. Many times and in many different forms I have been told to “keep up the good work.” I wish I believed I was doing something here that was good work. I try to be a good example of a level headed American that cares for his fellow humans and the world. At every step I am contradicted by a great number of people and in a variety of ways. It is hard work to explain to someone why you shouldn’t over tip, and then just have ten people walk up and do it right in front of you. To have the discussion about religion with people that want to convert you to one side or the other, and few that hear the common ethics in between. So many want conversions and affirmations to their own beliefs they don’t hear they are preaching the same lessons in different languages and want to argue over what they agree upon. I work for a rich man, in a rich school, for rich parents who pay me to give their children the best education they can afford and argue about it when it is different from what they know. The flowers on the tree are pretty. I try to learn one of the hardest languages on earth and speak to people in their native tongue and they wonder why I would want to learn their language when I know English, and furthermore why I wouldn’t ever want to leave the US when I could stay there. The land of golden opportunity.

I had the “Land of golden opportunity” conversation with my mom and brother in the car a few days ago and my mom didn’t want to admit the opportunity is brighter from some than others. Some are born with the silver spoon and others with a dirt-clod. Yes things are uneven, but also other things like women making less then men, racial division across wealth lines. This place we call home offers anyone the opportunity to be anything they want but to what degree. Can a poor black man from Compton really become president? Is a lesbian Latina going to be your congresswoman? The fact is we still have a long way to go. People are afraid of change, and they are definitely afraid of the unknown. I have met immigrants that were working to go back to their country because the US wasn’t the land of golden opportunity. The school their daughter was in was shit, and the had to really pay to put her in a private school that was up to their standards. Immigrants saying our schools were shit! We have bought our own BS hook line and sinker. We have turned a blind eye to our problems but believing they didn’t exist. Collectively the US is one giant ostrich with it’s head in the sand.

Being home made me realize how insulated we are. You only hear world news from a local perspective. I didn’t hear anything on the news at home that I would hear abroad. We sold almost a billion dollars worth of fighter planes to Pakistan and it was on the second to last page in the A section. That would be a headline somewhere else! Keep looking in the back and see how long it takes us to sell that same amount to India. The US…arming the world one country at a time!

I love my country which is the reason I see the things I want to change, and WANT to change them. I can’t stand when people with their head in the sand complain that you are not patriotic when you criticize the government. I not only criticize the government I criticize them and everything they do until it changes. I vote, and I will continue to squeak until my wheel gets some grease. It’s a REALLY big wheel. Wow give a guy a computer and he thinks he owns the place. I don’t know how much of this will make the blog cause it is a rant but I feel better now. I usually have someone to soundboard this stuff off of but now I just have to write it down.

What an Intersting Week I've Had

2005-03-11T15:52:00.000+02:00

In the past seven days Chris and I have been all around the Syrian countryside, visited two castles, seen many ancient ruins, been offered the sales of antiquities, and viewed a Pro-Syrian government demonstration in the middle of town.

Because of our teacher's hollidays we had two days off during the middle of the week in which we decided to travel to Hama. It has been in the news at home sporadically, but Hama was home to a massacre some years ago. The only thing noticable from then was that Hama was the cleanest city in Syria, it's aquaducts had been rebuilt in places (blown up), and one of it's water wheels was reconstructed (also blown up). The city, in general, was very nice and made an excellent outpost to make journeys for the next two days.

On the first day we visited Assassin's Castle, and Night's Castle (Crac de Chevalier). Apparently the word assassin is the name of a Shiite clan that would roam the area finding and killing Sunni's. The castle was a nice fortress located high on a plain with nice defenses. The coolest things about castles here is they were continually deffended and attacked. Chris said that many of the coolest castles in England were never attacked so nobody knows how well they were designed or built. These things were attacked many times and even today they are still standing in really good condition.

Crac de chevalier was the most amazing castle I have ever seen. It was high on a hill, with a wall that was had only two entrances. The main entrance was followed by stables and defenses internally, while the secondary entrance was probably a service entrance that led into the main stores and kitchen areas. It was soo cool I just geeked out and took tons of pictures. Some pictures were of fossils and geodes in the actual foundation rocks. All around it was the coolest thing I have ever seen.

The second day we worked our way through Apomea (Sp?), and two of the many dead cities that are all over central Syria. Apomea would be Palmyra if it was never discovered. The ruins are just sitting in an open field with most of it's area not even dug up and studied. I guess it was a travel and trade center and it's columns stretch over a kilometer in length. There are many half dug ruins and many clay pipes laying about from what I would assume to be a massive water system. The area all around the main columns is farmed and plowed. Everywhere there is scattered clay pieces of destroyed history. Mounds that are grown over just waiting to be dug up and studied. It's sad to see such an amazing historical sight just getting wrecked with every pass of the plow. On the flip side, since nobody wants to come to Syria, most of the sights are amazingly in tact. There were locals there that dig through the plowed fields and ruins looking for things to sell foreigners. We were offered Greek, Roman, and Byzantium copper coins, silver coins, clay sculptures, and other antiquities that belonged in a museum and not some tourists pocket. I don't believe in taking things from ancient sights unless they are going to be preserved for the greater good. Maybe I will buy some things and donate them to a museum. The government doesn't put any money into tourism, if they did they would have a boom economy...just after they made some political reforms :)

The dead cities were also amazingly well kept with animals grazing in them and people living near, and sometimes in, the ancient ruins. Most were Roman or Byzantine cities that were abandoned after earthquakes or destroyed all together. They are an amazing example of period construction and planning. Again they should be cataloged and preserved not left to rot. In villages nearby random pieces of Roman columns have been used to build stone walls and other things. The rocks are scattered everywhere.

After being back at school for a day we were notified that Thursday was a half-day due to the government using buses and closing roads for people to come and demonstrate in a Pro-Syria rally downtown. We stayed and played basketball at school, and by the time we left to go home the roads had been blocked. We took a microbus the long way home getting off downtown right in the middle of the demonstration. An interesting mix of the different political groups and ages of support showed up for the demonstration. There were plenty of village kids in their early teens to early twenties. College men and women marching with flags of "God, Syria, Bashar, Baath" ...at least the order of importance isn't as scary as it could be. It was a very peaceful, well organized demonstration that had fluid movement of people coming and going. Chris and I figured today there were between five and ten thousand people in attendance, maybe more but not by much. The organized groups marched on the square, chanted and left. The villagers that had nothing better to do just hung around. In Syria they are the class equivelent of what the British call commoners and what Americans call hicks. To my observation the more educated younger people were in organized groups supporting an idea, and the villagers just showed up because it was something to do. After we got home and changed out of our sweaty clothes we went back and took a few pictures. Someone had hung a giant banner saying something like " we don't like Bosh, the American people are not the ruling administration." It was poorly worded and misspelled but you get the idea. I have a nice picture and will whip it out on anyone that wants to argue about Syrian people. We met some guys from one of the socialist groups and chatted with them for a while before we drew too much attention from the bored villagers and had our crowd broken up by the police. Actually it was amusing...in Arabic I aplogized to the police officer and Chris told him we were all friends. He looked at us like we were on crack and just backed away. After that we figured we should walk out, so we walked off through the park and went downtown for a while until the square could cool down. Everywhere you go you will find intelligent well spoken people with whom you can have a conversation with, and ignorant punks that have no respect or manners. Some of the villagers were tapping us on the shoulder while we were talking to the other guys and one jackass poked me in the ass (I guess 'cause my long hair). He did it again and I snatched his fingers up and nearly broke them in half. He cowarded down and hid as I stared down every person behind me with his twisted fingers held up and stared them down. Chris had a similar experience with some tapping and poking, and Ben was shuffled our of the circle within a few minutes. Chris and I decided that if we didn't stand up to those stupid fucks we wouldn't have been able to have the conversations we wanted with the people we wanted. All things considered we were in a square full of cops and army guys, but nonetheless I get pissed off anytime anyone shows an ignorant misjudgement in manners.

After drinking a few beers and deciding we were stupid, (Chris thought it was brilliant, but no one was poking him in the ass) we made our way home. That night, last night, I purchased my tickets to come home for nine days and it has been on my mind ever since. I fly home in almost a week and I am psyched to go there. I hope everyone fights mismannered punks in the same death defying dilligence that I have :) On that note I am going home to poke Chris in the ass!

Hoorah Teachers Day!

2005-03-05T12:55:00.000+02:00

On Monday it is National Teacher's Day. There's a great idea; a day to celebrate teachers in society. Do we have one of those at home? I think it is called "Winter Break." Anyway, our school threw us a party at a really swank restaraunt last night that went until about three in the morning. Chris and I only lasted 'til about one-thirty since we arrived ON-TIME with the other westerners and the rest of the staff came between one and two hours late.

Yesterday we had a competition for the middle school that was called "Master Minds." There were three groups of four teams that competed in rounds to score the most points relating to educational and trivia questions. The top four teams competed for first place, and the first through third teams won trophies. It was all done really well except for the gramatical errors, and random indescrepancies in questions that only the westerners seemed to notice. We were in the back making bets with each other on the questions. All errors aside it went off really well and the kids LOVED the competition.

On Wednesday of this week the teachers played the middle school kids in a game of basketball. The westerners (like with all things)had fun and passed the ball around, while the Syrians were really serious and only thought about winning. One of the Syrians was running over the kids driving to the basket. None of the kids or teachers seems to know anything about teamwork when it comes to sports. We won but not by very much, and nobody really cared except the Syrians. The teachers are giong to start playing B-Ball every Wednesday after school. I hope we can keep it fun. As any of my friends and family know I can be super competitive but there is a time and place. Playing a bunch of kids is neither the time nor place. Hopefully we can rub off some teamwork on our co-workers the same way we try with our students.

I felt after the game for the first time that I belonged to a community here. We were all having fun and somewhat working together with the kids. Even at the party last night I felt the same thing, but after a short while I also felt more out of place than I had ever before. I know everyone, danced some, at the food, smoked a 'nargileh, but I really noticed how out of place I felt. The food is good but it isn't my food. The music sucks and it deffinitely isn't my music. The people are my co-workers, but very little effort has been made to make them my friends. I realized that no effort has been made to make us feel welcome as westerners, or has any effort been made to make this place more western. Everything stays the same. The curriculum at school has been modified to be more Syrian. No western food, music, ideas or classroom techniques are really tolerated. The only thing western here is the style of clothes, and the desire for modern social status via the purchase of a really expensive phone that really doesn't get used for anything. Last night made me realize that we are making all the changes to ourselves, our classrooms, and abilities to accomodate to the Syrian style. I left the party last night slightly annoyed becuase this has been the first time averything sank in at the same time. People ask why I don't want to come back next year and they don't understand why I start laughing. Well lets see: I can't teach the way I wan't because the school won't back me up as a teacher, I have no resources in or out of class for teaching, I have no way to learn more about teaching or anything else for that matter while I am here, I am not religious which removes me from both sides of the dating pool in Syria, I can't have many friends because not very many people speak English and, out of the ones that do, very few of them are educated to a level that I would enjoy speaking to them. I have nothing in common with ninety-nine percent of the people here, I don't care about wealth or money, I can't hang out with girls without their family or friends being involved. Basically this is the opposite of every place I have ever been and the only redeeming quality is the people here are probably the friendliest people in the Middle East. So with only one good quality in the pro's box people usually slink away hating their own country after we have that conversation. "You asked!"

Today Chris and I intend on kicking a football around and reading some, and later tonight we will shop and cook. Our lives are very regimented now with the missing link always being activity. Our school days are set with teaching football, playing football, now playing basketball, on Sundays staying home, and and Thursdays going somewhere for the weekend. During the day we plan, teach, grade papers, and now we have managed to get arabic lessons three times a week. We are in Kindergarten! Our kids think it is hilarious and we get ribbed every time we come from a class and the kids see what book we are using. Kids love to make fun of the teacher at any chance.

Politically it is the same as the first day I came. Nobody is worried about Lebannon. No one here believes Syria would bomb Hariri, but people are worried about the unemployment rate going up once the military is pulled out of Lebannon. The country gives a facade of jobs by having a large military. Even though these guys don't make shit and are forced into service, it keeps Syria looking like they have more jobs than they actually do. Honestly a non-partisan country needs to keep offering the olive branch to the president to help guide political and economic reform. It would never be accepted by Syrians if one of the western powers tried to intervene - we already have a bad rap for Iraq. If someone new and out of the picture came in and started talks about investment into the economy and political reforms I think the people would be more open. You have to understand that the average Syrian isn't that educated, believes what he reads in the party papers, and is very religious. Just like the lowest common denominator in every country. You need to appeal to them. That is why religious leaders are so popular. It's why Bush got re-elected. People don't want to think about stuff, they want someone to tell them God loves them, they are going to Heaven, and everything will be ok as long as that person is in control. This place is too secular for a religious leader, much like Lebannon, and needs to find a way of true group representation. People love the president but resent the party and the Alawi. For years the party and the head family have been skimming the top and keeping power at the cost of the common man. If you ask they will fight any forces that come into their country. They want to originate the change but they don't know how. Most would accept mediation from a third party with Arab people doing the lions share. This is something I discuss with so many people rich and poor. The common belief is the party is needed, but also needed to be reformed. The government is needed but needed to reform. They believe in their country and themselves, and are wanting reform. Then again many are worried about food at the bottom, and when they are going to be shown in the latest society magazine at the top. No matter what, I still believe people shouldn't be forced to change but should work for the change in their own way, and only helped when asked by a legitimate majority.

Hope all is well in the western world. Boys and girls intermingle for me :)

I coulda' been there!

2005-02-26T19:02:00.000+02:00

If any of my friends and readers have been watching the news the past week, you would've seen the ex-PM of Lebannon bombed by an unknown source. On a side note, that bombing was about two hundreed yards from where we were staying in Beirut. We even joked about being blown up at the Mc Donalds down the street. I guess they have more to worry about than we do these days if they are getting hit and not us. There is a lot of rumbling in the media about Syria, and I must say that the bombing was most deffinitely not done with Syrian backing or knowledge. They had nothing to gain and everything to lose. The intelligence head lost his job over it, and now it looks as though Syria is going to pull it's troops out for situational damage control. I gauruntee that Syria doesn't want to pull troops and she deffinitely didn't want Hariri gone - he was one of the few that had a good dialogue with Damascus. Politics aside, it is wierd to think I could have been blown up in Beirut had my timing been wrong. I guess it really can happen anywhere these days. It just happened in Tel Aviv yesterday by an unknown source that doesn't want peace between Israel and Lebannon. It happens in the US by militants and crazies, in Europe and Asia by "terrorists"; hell gangers shoot each other up daily!

On a lighter note my week was same as ever. I have been holding parent meetings for the past two weeks, and most of my parents have come. Parents of the most behaviorally challenged boys have been grateful, say they have seen improvement, and wish me to continue whatever I can do to reign-in their wild children. Some of the parents think their child is a misunderstood angel unable to commit any classroom crimes. Some don't know what there kids do, and a few didn't come at all. Mostly I feel I am doing the right thing with these kids trying to teach them to work more independently and understand classroom behavior. I guess teaching the rich anywhere will come with its unique challenges.

The funny thing about these kids is they act the same as inner-city kids. They have no idea about boundries and are very self serving. I guess there isn't much difference between having poor parents that set no boundaries, and rich parents that do the same. All I have learned from this experience is children need boundries, rules, and guidence to go along with the fun, love and affection a parent can give. If you are just a friend to your child your aren't teaching them anything. Kids don't need "yes-men" the need parents! Also, my experience has solidified my view that Middle School teachers have the hardest jobs. I think High School is easy, and Elementary School is challenging and fun, but Middle School kids are little shits. They are hormonal cesspools, and have enough intelligence to be annoyingly defiant. I feel for every Middle School teacher in the world. Good luck to all of you!

I had an interesting time with my friend Hratch two nights ago. He took me to what he thought was a "Jazz Concert" that turned out to be "Elevator music from Hell!" It featured three of the most talented musicians in town, maybe the country (two of whom I have met), and two other random people that sang wanna-be love songs, and had cheesy dancing and video footage in the background. It was so 'high school film project' I wanted to puke. They had nice voices but I could have played the piano, guitar, or drums for every piece. Those guys must have owed someone a favor 'cause it was really demeaning for them to be there...and you could see it on their faces. They looked sooooo bored. At one point one of the guys we were sitting with was yelling and cheering for the drummer on the bongos who was literally just tapping out a 4/4 beat. Everyone started laughing - I think everyone else came expecting jazz as well. Needless to say we left before intermission ever came. I wanted JAZZ!

Chris came back from London last night. It was nice to have him back. I have been so bored the past two weeks without anyone to have an intelligent conversation. I have read, planned for school, cleaned the house, daydreamed, slept, eaten out, daydreamed, slept, bought stuff, slept, graded homework, daydreamed. I have been REALLY bored. Since he came back last night we have gotten back into the daily rountine of watching world news, talking politics, listening to music and playing guitars. I love you man...

Well not much else to write for this week. I think next week we are going to Damascus so I can get some nice gifts to bring home. I have decided to come home for Anthony and Alexis' wedding. I should be back around the 23rd of March. Actually I am going to find the tickets in a few minutes. I look forward to seeing all my friends and bringing you gifts from the Levant. Let me know if you want anything special!

Only 132 more days to go...

2005-02-17T17:51:00.000+02:00

I apologize to my friends and family for not being more diligent about writing for my blog. I realized the other day that I don't get in the internet cafe enough, and spend so much time replying to, and writing emails, that I am spent by the time I get around to blogging. My new plan is to blog only one or two days a week, and reply to email the other one or two days a week. Sound good?

My most recent interesting adventure involved a last minute decision trip to Antakya (Antioch for you Romans) Turkey. It was down to the wire between Damascus and Antakya, and when it came down to it, we just felt like giong somewhere new! Originally we planned to take the bus, but unfortunately we discovered it most buses leave for there at five in the morning. We DID find another one after asking around, but it was giong to take and hour...then two...then the driver didn't feel like going anymore. So hell bent on going to Turkey (we had our visas and wanted to use them)we hired a car. It's not like it sounds. Our "hired car" was basically a run down old taxi with five hundred pounds of shit tied to the roof and five guys stuffed inside. FUN! After stopping every five minutes, oh and paying twelve dollars for the entire door-to-door trip, we wound up at the border. By this time it was pouring rain and we were on a pilgrimage to the right place to purchase another visa. To my suprise my three month visa was only twenty bucks. I had heard horror stories of hundred dollar visas.

Wet, bored, and visa'd, we stuffed back into the car for another hour plus of bumpy, horrible driving. We arrived in Antakya around nine or so and it took us a while to find a cheap enough pension to suit our budget. We settled on the eleven dollar a night place. It took another hour to decompress from the car-ride and check out what was on local Turkish TV (really bad action movies - almost comical). Our main goal of this last minute trip was to drink a beer in a pub. With some walking around we found some food. And just down the street was our nice little pub. Mission accomplished. "Houston, we have beers!"

On the second day we slept in and planned a whole lot of nothing for the day. We wandered into some place and had some pastry/pretzle type thingies and coffee. We crossed the river into the other side of the town where Chris emailed his girlfriend a great postcard of Attaturk. There not kidding when they say his picture is everywhere. ITS EVERYWHERE! Especially on the new money. Those of you that are economically savvy enough know that Turkey just lost a few zeros off their currency - six to be exact. I have a nice old Turkish Million Dollar Bill. Its fun.

After wandering around a quaint city center we ran into some Americans trying to take a picture on a bridge. I didn't even notice them; Chris spotted them in fact. He offered to take their picture and that struck up the "what are YOU doing here" conversation. I should really tell people I am a world renowned pet psychiatrist researching affects of global warming on animal behaviors. I love messing with people. They were Christian travelers leading a group of less traveled Christian travelers (never) through Europe and Turkey. Mostly home schooled and voted for Bush; you know the type. The best part was when we met up with some of them for some food (Chris and I were very interested in their opinions) and we met a girl from California who said she never realized that things could be so different in the world. That she just watched the news in the US cause there was no other news. How funny is that? Chris and I moaned for hours about how nobody knows how to look for information anymore. One TV channel and call it good! Anyway, they weren't having beers with us again later that evening, eventhough we did run into them randomly at a pizza place. I was helping Chris study for his interview and there they were. They were nice, and we enjoyed the western company.

That afternoon we wandered around trying to get a feel for the place but the center of town is more historic and full of Bazaars. We found an archealogical museum that didn't have anything inside, and a couple of statues. We made plans to go see St. John's Grotto the next morning if it wasn't raining, but we didn't make the trip. After staying up and drinking beer, again, we slept in and missed our bus home. Actually we didn't know what time it left so when we arrived at the station it was gone and there wasn't another one until tomorrow. We thought about going to the grotto but we decided we would come back and wanted to get home in time to relax and prepare for school the next day.

Shortly thereafter we found two decent cars to take us to Aleppo for a slightly higher rate than what we had coming, but we didn't really care. Like all things you can only barter so much but then you are eventually arguing over a dollar. Screw it! The rides only took about two and a half hours. At least mine did. Chris' car had a couple of guys from Angolia(?) and the border guys wouldn't let them through. I got into town and he was still at the border. It didn't matter really since my car was driving over hell's half acre looking for the other passenger's home. After that...my driver didn't know where he was, OR how to get me home. By time I got home Chris was only fifteen minutes behind me. The funny thing about the distance is that it is only about sixty miles from Aleppo to Antakya. On average a bus trip from Aleppo to Antakya takes about four hours. YAWN! And if I haven't said it before I will say it again...people here can't drive for anything. I think that is half the problem. The other half is the border crossing. Turkey has what people want and they really scrutinize everything at the border coming from Syria. From Turkey they let the door hit you in the ass on the way out - they could care less if you go to Syria. They sure hawk-eye you when you are coming from Syria.

Syria has a bad rap. Since Harari was blown up the other day everyone in the US have jumped on Syria. Are you kidding me. They can't even clean up trash...you think they can organize a sectacular hit on one of their only allies in Lebanon. It's all hype. The only thing that will be accomplished is Syria's ties with Iran will grow stronger. If the US wants Syria to play ball western-style the last thing they need is to encourage them to buddy up to Iran. Just another excuse for war.

Anyway, things are no different here than before. Everyone was really shocked here as soon as they heard what happened. It was on the radio instantly. Al-Jazeera pinned it on some radical Saudi group but I don't know if that will make western press. The most depressing thing about being here is having to see the misinformation people have about each other. US about them, and them about us. I am glad I am here to see what REALLY goes on and talk to people about true feelings. Like I've said I guess all I can do is be me and hope I am a good representation of my country and what it means to be human.

MMmmmmmm beer. I have an Egyptian brew calling me from the fridge. Hope all is well in Brigadoon.

Beirut...The Vegas of the Middle East

2005-01-31T18:52:00.000+02:00

After being in the drab grey of Aleppo for a mere two weeks Chris and I decided to take a weekend trip to Lebannon. Timely enough we arrived at the borders in time for an Eid celebration. While waiting around at the border for a half-hour or so I started wondering why I kept hearing explosions. In fact, as we were approaching the coast I thought I was watching lighting but it was to small and bright. It reminded me of shelling from artillery batteries. Finally I looked around the building to find locals launching fireworks from the field. Damn! I was hoping to catch some juicy revolution.

Eventually we made it to Tripoli by ten or so and within an hour we found our way to the center of town and got a decent deal on a hostel. Actually the guy in the hostel was so nice he gave us a discount, and it ended up being cheaper than the hostel we intended to stay. With a decent nights sleep (no thanks to that horrible creaking noise that I think was a pump for the water). In the morning we had a nice breakfast with fresh croissants, cheeses, fruit, and an assortment of other goodies we happily gobbled down.

That morning we walked to the citadel, that was a mere kilometer or so away. Without prior concern we happened upon the slaughtering arena that WAS downtown Tripoli the day of Eid. Everywhere there was blood running through the streets and sheep in various stages of death and disembowelment. From the citadel we had a wonderful view of the city, the mountains and the mediterranian nearby. Oh, and the dead goat smell was gone.

After an hour or so of looking around and taking pictures, we walked back to catch a small bus to the Christian stronglhold of Bcharre'. Actually I thought I was going to a quaint little mouintain town until Chris gave me the history lesson on the bus. It seems our nice little town was an outpost of Christian insurgency during the civil war. Within an hour of arrival it was physically, verbally and psychologically obvious that we were in a "Christian" town. Are you LOCAL????? This is a LOCAL town for LOCAL people!!! Creepy.

The cedars and the mountain range above the town were beautiful. We spent our "ski day" sitting in the lodge for three hours sipping coffee, breathing second-hand smoke, and waiting for the "wind" to stop blowing. Anyone from home has skied on much steeper in much windier conditions. It was lame - blowing a bit - but I have had days where I was dangling at a 45degree angle up at the top lifts of Loveland wishing for God to stop blowing on me. This was nothing. Nonetheless we sat and waited in our cheap-ass 1970's rent-a-gear and paid-out Syria & our school. After three hours we gave up, gave the shitty gear back, and proceeded to walk down the mountain. Actually we caught a lift from a "christian-militia-nazi-guy" that chris suspected was a part of the conspiracy that would be our downfall during our stay in Bcharre'. He dropped us at The Cedars and we walked around the remaining parts of what used to be a mountainous range of cedar trees. They were big trees. I just enjoyed the hike really. I miss the mountains you know!

After a snack we then proceeded to walk eight kilometers or so back to town. A beautiful walk and a beautiful day. From Bcharre' we went to Beirut with the intent on spending one day there and another day at Balbek taking in the ruins and hitting a few vineyards on the way back. After the first beautiful day the next two were utter shit. A two day rainstorm kept us inside cafe's and the Virgin Megastore for the first day. The second day we walked the corniche in pouring rain, dodging crashing waves and puddles. Wet, we settled into a cafe and read our books. No matter where I go - I always enjoy hanging out the most!

Enjoying our trip to modernity, we took a night out for some western dinner and bar hopping. Beirut is definitely the Vegas of the Middle East - I saw more neon and flashing lights in those two days than I have since I was last in Vegas. Maybe I am just so far removed from modernity that it looked bright and happy. Even the bullet holes looked happy. I actually saw couples on dates...and KISSING! My good lord Jehosafat on a rubber crutch...KISSING! Well after I got done praying for thier souls I got drunk! Beirut is now my favorite town in the Middle East. It has everything one could want of the western world with an eastern flavour. I have been told Dubai is better but I want to check out Amman next. I guess outside of historical sights, I would rather see the big cities than the villages. I live in a big dirty village. I told my friend Kaila in an email earlier today that my next job will be in a bigger city, or a place with something to offer like the great outdoors. I need more than psuedo-psychotic conversations with villagers about how Attaturk is a Jew. I can only take so much - I want to talk politics and current events! I want to see fasion and culture. It seems the large cities everywhere are the posters for the collective culture and beliefs of the greater nations. Going village at a time would be like reading every hack writer that comes along in order to read the up-and-comer first. I would rather wait for the Booker Awards to come and read something recommended. Big cities are the recommendations for variations in culture. God I love the city. If animals aren't walking by my door every morning(not stray cats), I wan't to live in the metropolis!

That rant aside, our trip back was long and uneventful. We took a seven hour bus back to Aleppo with a nice hour at the border. The Lebanese side wished us a good journey, stamped our passports - bing-bang-boom we were out the door. And then there was the Syrian side...the poster of Cold War efficiency. It took forty-five minutes to have some guy type a few things in the computer and get us stamped and on the way. The best part was when we rolled up into town and the guy behind us on the bus welcomed us so proudly to Aleppo. Chris and I grimly replied "we know...we live here."

Three wheelin ain't what is used to be!

2005-01-15T13:21:00.000+02:00

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

Talking to the $*&@ing wall

2005-01-13T21:55:00.000+02:00

I have recently concluded that I shall spend the rest of my time in Syria having conversations with the wall. I know what to expect from the wall. The wall doesn't lie, tell half-truths, say "malesh", discuss Islam-for-Christians, spew propaganda about the school or country, or even drive like a coked-up eight year old late for the latest X-Box session. The wall is what it is meant to be, or anything I deem it to be during our conversation (I will be playing the part of the wall as well.)

My German retreat was a slow decent into the soothing warmness that is the First World. Things were clean. CLEAN! People had a sense of how to drive - in general there were rules. Rules for just about everything, and most people followed them. In fact, I probably broke more rules than any one person I watched for two weeks. I jaywalked, jumped in between cars, rode transportation without paying, and I am sure I broke numerous unspoken rules just out of ignorance of the culture. I recently came from a place where you can do just about anything you want, apart from starting a revolution, and if you have enough money or power everything will be fine. In the Third World these people ruin it for everyone. In the First World there are so many rules that you have to be stupid rich or amazingly well connected to get away with anything big. These type of things are generally called "conspiracy theory" because they are too connected and expensive to even concieve they exist.

In the Third World this corruption floats just below the surface of the everyday pondscum of life. These carp just swim around waiting to take a bite and everyone knows they are there. In the ocean the most dangerous fish come out of nowhere and strike fast. They hide in the deep, and the darkness, and are amazingly bold at how they secretely survive. The pond is a shallow, murky, plain view of a static life. The big fish are small and everyone knows they are around. God I hate stinky little ponds.

Have you ever been somewhere that with a little love could be amazing. I feel like that here everyday. These people are so warm and energetic and at the same time allow little fish to inhabit and ruin their pond. With the religious diatribe put aside, I really see the potential in this place and in these people. Survival is distinctly natural to all beings, but why would a populace of people merely choose to survive. Agh now we are discussing politics. I find that in this place, much like the big fish comparison, there is a zero-sum orientation amongst the people. It seems that those in power only believe they can have a nice life by not allowing anyone else to triuph. It happens all over the world, and in some ways, at least economically, it creates a balance in the market. If you creat a vacuum and then create scarcity, you will have created a perpetual decay. I keep seeing the potential in the decay.

When I got to the airport in Frankfurt I had a slow realization of what I was returning to. Imagine a terminal of orderly lines and modernized techniques. Round a corner to a melee of people with piles of luggage and baggage strewn about in no resemblence of a line. A low roar of arguing coming from the counter and from each queue of family and friends readying to check-in with the airline. I struck up a conversation with a man and his companions and in German, Arabic, and English we found out who each of us was, our names, our destinations and so on. It seems the melee was families with way too much luggage scrambling to group together to take advantage of a group check-in/group weight limit rule. Most of them were strangers banding together in a sort of quasi mathmatical way to maximize luggage per group size. The madness had it's method - it was loud and annoying but I DID understand the method. Being the light packer that I am I grouped up with the guys, and later an old woman and her husband, to let them take advantage of my lack of luggage. Most of these people don't travel often and when they do they load up on things they can't get back at home, as well as gifts for friends and the odd find. I understand this all too well as I can't find any clothes that fit me very well in Syria. Everything here is made for middle sized skinny people with narrow shoulders. I have since found a few shops that I can buy from, but mostly I can't wear anything made here.

My experience in line at the airport summed up my experience in Syria. The few privelaged go to the front of the line, take their nice clothes and things they got outside of the country because they can leave, and get on the plane first. Everyone else is left scrambling to work together to make the best of their situation. Enough said.

So I am going to have my conversations with walls from now on. I have discussed as much politics, religion and education as I can take without getting thrown in jail. And that ever enticing topic of sex is a non topic - they even take the kissing off the television programs they import. With my three main guns down for the count that puts me out of business. And those of you that know what a windbag I can be sometimes might be suprised to hear that I finally shut up. I am now going to wander the earth with my staff and a bag showing people how to live life correctly through Kung Fu - oh wait that's Kain...and he's here to help. I am going to spend the rest of my semester seeing the sights, tasting the food, reading some books, and waiting to return to the First World.
"The ONLY world where you can piss on a holy book, burn a flag, eat genetically modified foods, and buy a car twenty-four hours a day."

Damn I miss it!

And a Brand New Jahr...

2005-01-01T00:39:00.000+02:00

I sit here around thirty minutes or so before the new year thinking about what I have accomplished, where I have been, and the changes I have made in my life. Like everyone else this time of year I am reminded of what I want to accomplish, where I want to go, and the changes I want to make to my life.

This year has been an amaying experience for me. I put a roof on a house, taught at a college, traveled to the middle east, learned a new language, and now on the eve of the new year I am assessing the old in former East Germany. In a place that historically has seen so many challenging things I feel very close to the troubles that have been.

A few nights ago I was dancing in an "East German" dive bar to fifties, sixties and seventies Americana and Ska. The people were real and the energy was great. The wallpaper on the wall was hung over cinder blocks of the cold war when beers were a few pfennigs. Times they are a changing. Now people from all over Berlin dance there together with foreigners and each other. It was nice to hear Dick Dale and Italian seventies music mixed together with Elvis and Specials. I met people from all over the globe that live here and are also traveling through. This place is the re-intigreation of two societies after many years of seperation and tragedy.

I see the same things forming in the middle east that once formed here. A wall dividing two peoples sharing the same land. Politicians fight over the right to inhabit or control the area but in the end only the people suffer. The middle east will come together someday like Berlin has been rejoined. I don't know when but it will happen I am sure.

As I type fireworks and party horns are heard from all around. The streets are already full of debris of the noisy celebration that is about to ensue. I have spent my time here with Westerners from every imaginable. I have heard for almost five months from everyone who can speak how much damage our country has done to the trust of the world. I am tired from the stories of ignorant American travelers. I want everyone to believe in one world.

The recent tragedies in the Indian Ocean brings sorrow but gives me hope for humanity. We can all pitch in and help out when fellow humans suffer a great loss. Should or could we have done more before it happens? Yeah sure and hopefully this loss will bring us closer together. Why were tourists rushed out of the country while citizens were left for days with no support? We should love one another.

The ruckuss is getting louder now and I must join the crowd. I love you world and I wish you a wonderful new year...

Fröhliche Wiehnachten!

2004-12-25T14:31:00.000+02:00

This is my email reply to Trish from Berlin.

It's cold and rainy outside. Not really rainy but just kind of drizzly. The sun was out yesterday but not really today. I look around and the buildings are all old but have new faces. This part of Berlin is in a new life. Former East Berlin on the "other side" side of the wall has been completely integrated into the west. This place is buzzing with life and prosperity.

I have had christmas with eve with a Brit, some Aussies, and around many other world travelers. Our night before Christmas dinner consisted of what I brought down from my food bag; some oranges and apples, meüslix bars, candy, spicy potatoe chips, bread and peanut butter. The Aussies ran upstairs to get the vegemite! It's not bad really, just kind of salty - I can see how it would be great on toast. So we ate everything...together. We tried combinations of every possible thing that was on the table. It was really a sight to be seen. On top of that we were drunk and enjoying every song that was playing.

It is good to be away from the middle east for a while. I do miss western civilization. I miss things working in some form of a system and working on a time table. I miss talking to women and hanging out in bars. I don't miss reading every little thing that is wrong with the world. It is nice to be in a bubble, you don't have here every detail about what horrible things go on in the world. Why can't we have "The nice News." (By the way, a German keyboard is hard to type on!)

I miss all of my family and friends. I knew if I went home for Christmas I wouldn't go back. So here I am at the half-way point and really savoring every minute of my time.

Fröhliche Weihnachten!

Love Chris

Ethics, Politics & Heretics

2004-11-10T23:39:00.000+02:00

I just emailed my Mother, who I am not picking on by posting this, and summed up my experience of being a human being. The email was in response to our discourse on the election in which we were bitterly divided. Growing up my mother and father, to my knowledge, were always "middle-of-the-road" or as we say these days Independents. Recently for my mother she has gone to the Republican side of the track, and just a matter of months ago I felt this election was so important that I registered as a Democrat. I will go back to the middle again now that I realize that is where the problem lies - a choice between the lesser of two evils. I want true Democracy and that would take EVERYONE caring about what goes on in the US. I don't even want to guess how long that will take for the world. After I wrote this email I realized I needed to post this piece because it really did explain who I am. Here it is...

"I thought we decided not to talk politics. With that said this has nothing to do with belonging to the world politically - it should but it doesn't. The fact of the arguement is that we have tied the rest of the world to us economically. We can't just tuck tail and run. We have developed, willingly or unwillingly, a good number of the economies of the modern world and we need to be accountable for our help or interference.

The economy is a global unit whether you are an isolationist or a communist. The economy changes when things happen in China, the Middle East, or anywhere else that has production and consumption. I have never been "pro" terrorism or "anti" America. I am always for equality, and right now America is in a position where we are the leading economy, millitary, and political force. I think the EU is dependent on England's support because of the power of the Pound, and Great Brittain is in cahoots with the US because of trade. Choices are being made to balance the economy of the largest producers and consumers when the economies of the little guys have been ramshackled by the powers playing favorites or trade games. The economics of the world is indicative of the ideology of the lucky.

I was lucky to be born where I was, to who my parents were, into the country I am from. Some where more lucky, but in the scope of the world most are unlucky. I can't say that I think we should distribute the wealth because I agree with most of Ayn Rand's writings. I am just saying that I do and say what I think is just. I share what I have. I help other people when I can. I care about humanity because I am human. You raised me to be logical and caring and that is how I approach the world. I think we should take care of each other because we can, not because I think it is entitled or owed. The world isn't owed anything by the US, but as a whole we have taken plenty from the world. We must take the good with the bad. I know Bush is in office for four years and he will do what he will do. It's not what I would do. I have my ethics. I see morality as what I would want others to do for me, or to me. I can live life by the golden rule and if I was impoverished I would want someone to be fair to me, help me learn to live better, and support my growth. In many places we have taken advantage of people and places out of pure economic gain. I can't judge but I know I would never do it. It's a personal choice in ethics. I can bad mouth the president as much as I want because I can see the fault in his personal and governmental ethics.

I don't respect pushing religious belief through politcs, and I don't respect hiding alterior motives. Agree or not agree I believe these to be true. I believed them before 9/11, before Michael Moore, before "liberal media", and before coming to Syria. I just have no respect for the President of the United States. As an American I can be that way. I respect our soldiers and every day I hope they come home. I met an Iraqi that told me about all of the Iraqi people that are getting kidnapped for money. The "liberal media" mentions nothing of these kidnappings. I guess these aren't the "terrorists" that are kidnapping the other people.

It's about money not politics. This whole thing has stunk since the government took the opportunity after 9/11 to keep the US scared. I was never scared of attacks, I was sad for the Arab world cause I knew what was coming unto them as people blindly grew racist and wanted to "go kill those ragheads." It has nothing to do with this war, and everything to do with intollerance and economic gain. I will never see it differently and only time will tell if I am right or wrong. Hundreds of years from now these times might prove to be "just" but my personal ethics will never see them in this way."

Thank you to my mother and father for doing the best they knew how, a wonderful job I think, at raising me. Thank you to my brother for being my best friend from birth. Thank you to the rest of my family for being involved enough to know my life and care. Thank you to all my friends for the lessons, the experiences and the love. Thank you to all of my girlfriends for having patience, trying to show me love, and allowing me to try and love you the best I could. Thank you to all of the people I have met or barely known for the conversations, small moments in time, and shared silences. I love you all. Peace to the world.

Stay the Course!

2004-11-06T21:45:00.000+02:00

I think I will take Bush's decision and stay the course...four more years in Syria that is. If only American's realized how much everyone outside of the US hates Bush. It was even more evident after the election as I was watching everyone ask him what he will do with the supreme court openings (ignored that question), how he will make friends with the Democrats ("he has a plan" - to let Haliburton rebuild the ties between both parties for a small fee). Every interview on Euronews, BBCWorld, BBCPrime and Deutchesworld were just going on about how Bush now has a free ticket. The funniest thing about this election was that Al-Jazeera of all stations had the best coverage. The arab world has the most to lose from this. His three million religious right showed up to vote, but the near 150 million other people that could have voted didn't. HMMM - gotta love the disenfranchised voter. Now because the lowest majority didn't vote, the minority of the right once again is in power. I must say now America DESERVES all that everyone says about it's politics and practices. The last four years were stolen, the next four are on the conscience of the US populace. Hope all goes well...

I'm done talking politics for four years...I couldn't vote.

Life in Aleppo is going on. Chris and I play Football(Soccer) once a week, and Volleyball(Volleyball) on Thursdays. In between we still have two Arabic lessons. I am becoming quite a good speller. My new challenges are to have my lessons planned through Christmas(adjustable of course), visit Crac and Palmyra before Christmas, get my damn visa before Christmas, and figure out where I want to go FOR Christmas!

Nothing else is new. I played jammed on guitars with my friend Hratch last night until about two in the morning, and am searching for nich-nacks for Christmas, Birthday, and wedding gifts. Please make your suggestions cause I can find it all. St. Marks needs an Argeillay (SP?). Basically a giant hooka that is filled with apple flavored tobacco and puffed. Nice mellow buzz. I am looking for gifts for my friends tastes. Textiles for my sewers and knitters. Coffee paraphanalia for my coffee drinkers. I know all of the secrects of making Turkish/Arabic coffee. I have been complemented on my abilities by the locals. I learn quick.

Another interesting thing about being here now, besides the election, is that the Arafat is about to kick the bucket. What a time to be in the Middle East!

Hope everyone is well. I will soon go in for another Hammam and will let everyone know how wonderful it is...again!

Love and miss everyone. XOXOXOX

I hereby accept the nomination for...

2004-10-16T12:39:00.000+03:00

I went to a party last night that had people from all over the globe. There were people from everywhere except South America. I think it was their night off. Anyway, this was the best party I have been to in a really long time. Not only was there cool and educated people there, they were cool and educated and from everywhere I am not. I talked beer with an Aussie and a Dane, I talked politics with a Canadian and French man from West Africa. I talked dating with some local girls. Oh wait. Nevermind that last one.

I now feel, after much thought and consideration, that I am a citizen of the world. Coming here was the first step for sure, but meeting all the other people from around the world that work here made me feel like I just got nominated for world citizenship. The US is my state in a great big country. Colorado is my county in our beloved state. Denver is just my local neighborhood hangout spot. What a big world we have. Won't everyone come and explore it with me? SEGWAY I just had great Mr. Rogers vision with a man or woman from any country inviting kids to explore the world with them all Mr. Rogers style. I'd watch it! Cardigan and all!

Anyway, the party was fun. I got nice and lit for the first time, since we didn't go to Lebannon last weekend I decided it was time to tie one on! Chris went back to Englad for the week - his Grandpa died. Unamazingly he was more stoked to "see" his girlfriend than to go to a funeral; he forgot why he was giong home a few times last week.

I will be mailing my first letters out soon. Also, now that I am settled I want to start Christmas shopping. Let me know what you want so I can make a list, check it twice, box it up, and send it thrice (nothing ever happens the first time here.)

Hope all is well with my friends and family and I will post a picture or two soon.

love,
chris

Tzzz.

2004-10-12T21:49:00.000+03:00

An outsiders point of view would be that many interesting things have happened to me in the past week or so, but can't think of anything exciting to talk about. That says something about how comfortable I have become with my life here. I do the same stuff every week and have little bits of fun in between.

Last weekend our friends took Chris and I to see an Austrian choir perform in the auditorium atop the Citadel. Not bad...but not good. The atmosphere was cool and the view was great at night. Every time I go in there I think of some kings and warriors that have walked the same steps years ago. God I love history.

I am getting better at teaching fourth grade, and am constantly pushed by parents and children to do my best. I am trying new things every day and am enjoying what I do.

Arabic lessons have started and I am starting to read and am learning grammar. I read the bus drivers liscense tag in the window on the way home from school and everyone in the bus gasped at me with wide eyes. "When did you learn to read?" It's not that hard really. Thank God for Phonics is all I have to say. If you are hooked on phonics you can learn any language.

I continually ogle beautiful women like a jobless logger lookin' at a lush Federal forest. If only you could just go to work...alas I have a job - being celibate.

The season is ripe for travel and tourism. Chris and I are going to start making weekend trips to some of the many archaelogical sites in Syria. I am open to suggestions if anyone wants specific photos or details. Have camera, will travel.

Well that is all in the land of Allah. Ramadan is approaching and school is cut short one hour every day during the holiday. Sweet. Hope all is well in Americaland. And remember...VOTE QUIMBY!

Two Weeks of Treaching

2004-09-28T16:33:00.000+03:00

I have a new found respect for Elementary School teachers. Not that I didn't respect them as much as a High School teacher, I just thought teaching was teaching.

WRONG!

After my first two full weeks I have learned teaching to this age well takes the devotion of a Labrador, the patience of a Saint, the planning of a NASA Apollo mision, the oration of a Toastmaster, the endurance of an Iron Man runner and the proper sleeping of a narcoleptic. I am napping for the first time in about twenty-five years!

Not only have I gone from one country to another, I have gone from teaching one extreme to another. The families that can afford this school are significantly different than the ones whose children attend the inner-city day care center that was Manual High School. On one hand the majority of the parents don't show up for conferences, and on the other hand the parents show up out of nowhere to speak with you. On one hand the kids take public transportation or walk through gang areas to get to school, and on the other hand the families "driver" drops them off in the morning. What is it with me and extremes. Not only can I not sort them out of my personal life, now I am dealing with them in my professional life as well. Ahh the ol' yen and yang. There is a balance to the world.

This weekend I am off to a famous Crusader castle (not going to even try and spell it) and next weekend we are off to Lebannon for some international banking and drinking. In that order of course. Hope all is well in the States and I will leave you with this nice international joke:

The UN sent an urgent memo to all countries asking if they would please share thier opinion on how to end starvation in the rest of the world. They replied as follows:
China didn't know what opinion meant.
South America didn't know what please meant.
Western Europe didn't know what starvation meant.
The Middle East didn't know what share meant.
The US din't know what the rest of the world meant.

The Hand of God

2004-09-21T20:36:00.000+03:00

It is interesting how different cultures maneuver through traffic as pedestrians. In the US drivers generally follow rules and, depending on the state and city, the pedestrians usually follow a few of thier own. For instance, in Denver, CO I could drive between people just entering a crosswalk from both sides and they would expect me to do so. In fact, I have become angry at people that slowed down as I was timing traffic to cross - crossing traffic is an art form. In Portland, OR I was given the finger many times for this maneuver since the pedestrians have the right-of-way. Actually, in Oregon if someone is STEPPING into the crosswalk as you are approaching it you legally must yield to the walker.

All things considered I am truly in awe of how big the balls are in Syria when it comes to crossing traffic. One word...FROGGER. Everyone remembers this wonderfull retro game that involved hoping a small frog across a busy, multi-laned street all-the-while dogding amazingly diferent traffic. Little did I know that so many hours of my youth had been training me to survive where I now reside.

Last night walking back from the Souk, Chris and I witnessed a move that was both impressive, couragious, and downright idiotic. Imagine, if you can, a small woman in full black coverings, gloves, and Hijab crossing against raging traffic and just stepping in front of a speeding taxi like a cop with a nine and a badge. Except the only thing she had was what we have dubbed "the hand of God." It is so named because we discerned either it was God's will for the taxi not to smush her like a little green frog, or she was prepared to meet her maker and just going for it. Either way, God was involved, and she just put up the universal sign for halt. As you already know she lived (I wouldn't tell this story the same way had she been smushed) and Chris and I gained a new 'technique' for crossing traffic. If all else fails just put up the "Hand of God."

On a different note, I will either die a miserable death from some random little bug floating around here, or my immune system will by so strong the should be able to cure diseases with my blood! Yes I am sick again. I have recently met up with my long lost friend "solid poo" and am in good spirits. I have also met a new friend "snotty nose" and we aren't getting along so well right now. I guess everyone gets sick in a new country and, oh, lucky me, I also get to have a new school as well. How many things CAN I throw at my imune system? To the Bat Cave!

The kids are settled down a little this week but still amazingly wired. A nice combination of poor planning (on my and the schools part), being spoiled and rich (not on my part), and also it is the fourth full day of school. I am going to give them the hand of God and see what happens.

On a political note, Kofi Anan's opening speech to the UN tonight was dead on. We don't have any satellite hookups yet so at least we get BBC World. I miss watching football, but some of the political stuff on tv here you just don't get anywhere in the world. Think of everything that you see on our tv, now imagine you are watching the other side. It is wierd to watch the arab prospective on the war, Palestine, and American politics. I wish everyone I know could have the conversations I have had. I find myself truly representing the middle when I have to explain to people the politics in our country. Lucky for me we are pretty split on issues, it makes the conversations so much easier "so half of the people agree with this and the other half don't.." I have had to explain the Electoral College (I still don't know why we still have this), the popular vote, states rights, how much our federal government spends on things, commonly held Republican, Democrat, and Independant views. Good thing I know history and politics or I would be screwed.

Another amazing experience is living with a Brit, and working with Canadians. Now I understand each country better, and we talk all the time about politics, religion and culture. Our cultures are so close but so different at the same time. They don't understand how we don't have health care and have to pay for our education, and I don't understand the use of a Constitutional Monarchy, and how Canada can still be relating to the Queen of England. It's fun...we play poker.

I can honestly say that when I get paid again next week I am going in for another Hammam. And Marc, I am not coming back fat and hairy so you can get a free rub-down - I am coming back trim and hairy so I can get the free rub-down ;)

Jenny Juniper and The Full Fourth Grade

2004-09-17T14:40:00.000+03:00

My first week of teaching is finished and I need another massage. All tension lost via "the big guy in a towel" is now setting up residence in my neck and back. When teachers tell their children they are a pain in the neck, they really mean it!

My kids are energetic, intelligent, well funded, well equiped, highly trained, higly motivated annoyance machines. I spent my first week disciplining a raging nightmare of Scooby-Doo and Spider Man. Flashes of color and flying pencils are all that I truly remember. The headlines in the local paper read "American Man Run Over By Children in First Mob Related Fatality in Years." They mugged me!

That put aside, my classroom is crap, I have no materials, no A/C, no heater, no teacher's desk, not enough desks for the kids, my assistant didn't show up yesterday, and I got last months paycheck today. Never in a million years will you hear me speak or write "National School of Aleppo" and "organized" in the same sentence after this one.

On a brighter note I saw an amzing performance art piece sponsered by the French embassy last night. I guess the embassy brings in troupes and artists to spread some French culture around here. It was a silent piece that went on for almost an hour with a guy in a room emoting to the audience silently. The amazing part was it was choreographed with music and A/V projection, so that much of it was a "second projection" of his image on one of the walls. He was the strongest guy I have seen in a long time - I wonder if he is a climber. He would handstand on the floor by the wall, or one-handed press himself up with his feet on the wall, so that on the A/V screen it looked like a different view of a guy standing. All things like this with good athletics, acting, and music.

Some university friends of ours took us unsuspectingly. At one point my friend put his arm around me in the theater and said to us "look I have an American hostage!" It is pretty funny how far from reality this is here and how much of a joke it is that the US is so against Syria. I wish everyone could see and experience what I experience, then everyone wouldn't be so afraid. People are so amazing here, and it really is more safe than home even for me.

I guess if something else happens that is interesting I will write it up, otherwise it is off to the "Cat Bar" for some coffee and arabic lessons, and then later on...poker with the Westerners. Wish me luck.

Deep thoughts by Ahmed Hamdy

2004-09-10T16:50:00.000+03:00

Sitting around my nice new flat, watching satellite TV, I realized that I really like rap from foreign languages. I have NO clue what they are saying! They can be rapping about cars, girls, hard times, gangs, love, milking a cow; who the heck knows? NOT ME, and I like it that way. Knowing what is being said is distracting if you just want to bob your head to a beat. There you are, on the stoop, drinkin' a forty, listening to some phat beats and SCREEEEECH; "what did he just say about the gentrification of the social classes in suburban Romania?" It ruins the whole experience of just being in the moment. Not with World Rap!!!!

Thats right for 3 installments of 19.99 you can have the best compilation of rap you DON'T understand! Jamaican, Polish, Libyan, Korean; it's all here! Tired of that same old party where everyone knows the words? With World Rap you can equalize the language barrier! No longer do you have to talk to that hot Swedish girl through your Spanish, a friends Portugese, and her cousins German! You can speak the language of World Rap, and later, the language of love!

So I finally have an apartment, and today we put food in the cupboards. PS, when making Arabic coffee don't leave the boiling carrafe unattended lest you want to clean-up scolding coffee goo. One cool thing about our apartment is satellite TV. Now I know many of you have digital cable or DirecTv, and Tivo, but with the old fasion satellite you can get illegal cards with nifty little codes that decode everything (sorry capitalists). Oh and did I mention it was a dollar!

Having no copyright laws is great! Music...free. Programs...free. Knock-offs...not free but pretty damn good. We have been watching BBC World and German TV. Once we get a card I will let you know what else. Hope all is well back in the first world. My love.

The 'Chris' Crib is Cinched!

2004-09-08T19:14:00.000+03:00

Yee Haw, we finally got a place to live. That was the most painful month of existence. It would take being thrown in jail to have a more miserable experience in Syria! Perseverence is the word of the day. Oh, and Location, Location, Location. I am so glad to be out of the soulless suburb we were living in. There is only two places to eat (both expensive), and one corner store that will truly be missed. On to bigger and better things.

The new "Lad Pad" as Chris so eloquently named it is located right in downtown Aleppo. We have a local Shawarma place, Espresso shop, found our shady coffee hangout, a Chess/Coffee club, and many millions of other shops just a walk away. We still need a Pharmacy, Grocer, Snack shop, Bakery, and other favorites to be determined. Maslow was right with the heirarchy of needs - now that I have a sense of security with the apartment I feel beter, and can elevate my life to the next level. Agh...security...AND FREEDOM!

School is inching along, and I MEAN inching. We are doing the best with what we have and that is about the only good thing I can say; I am trying to stay positive. When I get my paycheck in US dollars and my reimbursements, THEN I will BE positive. Slowly...slowly.

With school starting I will soon be able to find a computer to download my pictures to. I will shoot some of the new crib and post them with the rest.

On the next episode of Chris In Syria, Chris has his first day of school...

Scrub me down and call me majnoon (take 2)

2004-09-04T23:21:00.000+03:00

I have to edit this because the experience wasn't fully embellished the first time around. Yesterday Chris and I experienced a wonderful tradition called the Hammam. This is a Turkish style bath house where for a measly eight dollars you get to wash yourself down, soak in a sauna, get "exfoliated" by some big old guy in a towel, get lathered AND massaged AND chiropractically adjusted by some other big old guy in a towel, them back to the sauna, then a head massage with double washing (beard included), and finally a nice hot rinse (it's a run-on sentence I know).

When you first enter this place you have to walk for about five minutes through the hustle and bustle of the souk (covered market). There are people selling everything, and this time we walked through a part where they were selling fabrics (I will take pictures for you girls to choose from). We found the tattered old sign hanging high in the mist and smoke of the khan and entered down into a long narrow stairwell. This passage opened up into the grand room that was wood planked from it's high vaulted ceiling, all the way down to the relaxation beds and marble floor. From what we were told we went to an older "locals" Hammam.

After pidgeon Arabic and English we stripped down, put on a table cloth like sheet, took our fresh bar of soap (this stuff is awesome) and wandered back through a maze until we found the Sauna. Oh the Sauna.........still daydreaming............relaxing more now.......yes the sauna was ancient, fed by steam pipes, amazingly tiled (Raz you and your dad would love this place) and sweaty. After sitting in here for thirty or forty minutes we were directed out to a bathing area where the man slipped on a brillo glove and gestured for Chris to sit down next to him. I must admit I am glad Chris went first because I had the benefit of knowing which way to sit, flip, and flop at each slap of the glove. After the man took off a good VISIBLE layer of skin, he sent you over to another man for a "soapin". This guy lathered they hell out of you and massaged you at the same time. It was so nice, and then a nice little suprise. No not the "happy ending" you pervs, the adjustment! He folded your arms over one another and popped your back - TWICE. Then flipped you over, massaged and worked the back and neck. Then finished with another neck rub and CRACK! I hdan't had my neck popped like that for years. A Chiropractor couldn't even do it - this guy was good!

So after all of this we went back to the sauna (oh the agony). After another ten minutes or so we were beckoned back to the "soapy" room for a nice head wash. I have been needing a proper shower since I have been here and this guy put the 'rinse, repeat' into the label. He got my head, my face; he even scrubbed the hell out of my beard - it was awesome. I felt like a ceaser. After a nice warm dousing we were wrapped up in many towels and escorted back to our little day bed area. We had fresh cheese bread and a soda, some water, and just kicked it for a while. All warm and cozy, relaxed, fed - damn I was happy. The best part...EIGHT BUCKS - this would have cost two hundred dollars in the US.

After being scrubbed, and with a new glow about us, we walked the souk until we found our way out of the maze. We approached some little kids who were so excited to meet us that I truly believe it gave them Rock Star status just to say that they met us. I have two pictures to post when I can: one of us sitting in towels in the Hammam, and the other a pile of children bum-rushing the camera as I took their photo. Many of the kids were Palestinian and (sorry Republicans) likened the small kids that nobody wanted to Bush, Blair, and Sharon. Lots of the Palestinian kids think Hitler was pretty cool cause he got to kill Jews like they kill Palestinians. I guess if you've seen what they've seen you might too. Scarey what goes on with the Palestinians. What a mess.

On a lighter note I am as clean as I have ever felt in my life, well fed, and I think I might have an apartment. Things really do take forever. We have pinned the bossman down to give us our living money but alas it didn't work. He said he would take care of it, so God willing (Inchala) we will have our flat in a day or two. Everything around here is either Inchala, or Buchara (tomorrow). Not bad when I want to be lazy, but damn it if everyone else wants to be lazy:)

Floating trash and Shawarma!

2004-08-29T15:48:00.000+03:00

After not getting our apartment, dealing with whiney American women, and generally just being annoyed Chris and I decided we were going to slip away to the majestic coast of Latakia(Greek for dirty beach).

After being accosted by two locals(which usually happens) we worked our way to the train station in a leisurely fasion. Everyone here seems quite keen to talk politics. Within two hours, and two coffees, we hashed out the underlying cause of the worlds ills and laid out a plan for global peace. We should be in charge - to cocky Westerners with two local Arabs. Peace is on the way. We exchanged numbers and made plans to restart our discussion at a later date, and boarded the train.

Syrian trains look like they are vintage eastern block, except they run on time, have nice stations, friendly people, feed you a full snack (photo soon to be posted) and generally put AMTRAK to shame. The pittance of one hundred pounds got us an express ticket and hours of conversation. The closer we got to Latakia, the more humid it became - and I swear much warmer. The night air instantly clung to you like a wet towel, but it was a new place and we were glad to get away.

Like good little boys we oriented our map to where we were, after fighting off cabbies and little kids selling shit, and took to the night. A brief walk found us in the center of town and soon our hotel. More of hostel really it was cheap and clean and didn't have loud girls complaining. We rested for a bit(sweated really) and then made a b-line for the coast. We walked and talked and worked our way up and down the touristy boulevard. Kind of nice but in a cheesy sort of way. We stopped in at a bustling Shawarma vendor that deep-fryed our Shawarma in chicken lard(gut bomb). The avenue was just posh and reminiscent of rich idiots, so we walked on back into town where we settled into a nice streetside cafe. The chess games ensued(I finally won ONE)as well as the Slapjack. My favorite American title for this is lost on everyone but Chris so I just don't say it anymore. The Brits have a similiar game called Snap so Chris calls it TurboSnap! Nice! This attracts MUCH attention because anyone that has played this game knows how heated it can become. At one point we had a gallery of little girls looking on and we turned to them, proclaimed in our best Arabic that we were crazy, asked them if they were crazy, laughed and continued playing. After a few coffees and many games we worked our way home for a sweaty but quite sleep(the mosques don't wake me up anymore).

The next morning we awoke and quickly set out for coffee and a snack. After hanging out under a palm tree sipping our coffee we decided to walk to the train station to purchase our tickets and find our return time. Upon arrival we purchased our tickets and found we had about four hours to kill. Feeling a bit adventurous we walked straight into the slums of Latakia. Beat up old buildings, piles of rubble, trash and awful smells were all very common. The children followed us and a few vendors poked out but largely we were unnoticed. Some boys pointed us in the direction of the beach after a short walk along the tracks, and we finally ended up at a 'locals' type beach place. There was a reed covered patio, a small vendor, an amazingly dirty beach and the grand ol' Medditeranean. Nice sea the Med except when you are wading around in washed up trash. After a short walk in to test the water and sanity of the location I headed back to our table to sit, sip coffee, and listen to music. We spent about three hours just hanging with the locals on this dingy beach before we packed up to head home.

The train back was uneventful and on time. We quickly made it back to meet some co-workers for ice-cream, get the keys to our part-time pad, and get back out to meet some other foreigners for dinner and fun. Neither occured. We took a cab over hell's-half-acre looking for a pair of socks for Chris(forgotten when we moved to the new place) and then another fifteen minutes driving to this super swank pool club to meet these people that we barely knew. It ended up being someone's wedding(again) and I feel wierd about being at a wedding I wasn't invited too, eventhough I know it is also a restaurant - I guess it's a cultural thing. So after eating, drinking, and saying WHAT! 500 times we left for a cab ride from Hell. I noticed our cabbie's meter wasn't running so I had Chris stop him for the arguement. He wanted twice what we paid coming out for the drive back and we said no way! Just then a microbus pulled up and I jumped out and started battering with the guyus in it to find out how much they would take for the same ride. In any other situation it would have been cheap but at this point we were both mad and didn't care too much. So we got out of this bastards cab and into the microbus for a proper cab fare price. The cabbie was then mad and wanted payment for the turn around the block. We said no...he asked where we were from and I said "from a country that knows how to do math.." my humor was wasted on him, the clock was running, so he muttered something and left. Needless to say we finally made it home but what a day that was yesterday!

The peace process...

2004-08-27T13:40:00.000+03:00

I have an inkling of how the peace process in Iraq is working. There is the US trying to work with leaders to resolve conflict and solve problems. The west is working in a fasion that you come to an agreement and what you agree upon gets accomplished. The east is working in a system of fealty where nothing gets done when it is said, the leaders have the power and don't want to let any of it go, if you work for or with someone you are under THEIR fealty and things get done when THEY decide it is needed.

I have been here for over two weeks and have been consistently lied to about our apartment, the status of our contract, moneys that have been paid, keys obtained. Last night Chris and I were so mad we called the realtor, found the woman who owns the apartment and thought we were getting the keys...nada. Nothing had been done and we then expressed our frustration and anger about the situation to her and she understood. We now are requesting our living allowance up front to take care of matters ourselves. Within two weeks I know enough people, language, and location to do this on my own. I don't need a fuedal lord. I like to make waves.

With this aside we had a wonderful time with some locals playing Fussball for an hour or so, went to a store and bartered for a chess board, and then went to a cafe to play chess and drink coffee. If it wasn't for the BS the place would be the coolest town I have lived in. Just today we were flagged down by a man that we met previously and he gave us a ride to the internet cafe on his way to church. People here are so kind and happy. I can't say it enough.

Oh, and for you girls out here that have heard soooo much about how beautiful women are I can honestly say that the guys here are just as good looking. AND they hold hands!

It has been confirmed!

2004-08-25T17:48:00.000+03:00

Yes I actually do work with mostly supermodels. Today we had our first school meeting where every other girl was just flat out hot! I have to WORK with these girls? Window shopping at its finest!

Well other than the staff being extremely "fit" the meeting was a cluster of the Western teachers scrambling to make everything fit into the schedule at the last minute, and also adding things in like French and Religion. Well no school is perfect. School will probably start a week later than planned but at least I will get my keys tomorrow. Things take forever here!

Chris and I have decided that we are only going to visit and go places that no one ever goes. No I am not going to the mountains of Iraq (already thought about it), and no I haven't found Atlantis (but there is something in the water), we are going to plan a trip to Armenia. Who does anyone know that has ever been to Armenia, let alone could point it out on a map? So we are giong to mull over plans for that trip.

Other than that it is "steady as she goes." I hope everyone is having nice weather, it has been one hundred plus all week here. Bloody hot! Talk to you soon.

So many bints...so little time.

2004-08-23T19:33:00.000+03:00

In the past three days I have gained in intimate knowledge of British slang (my new roomie), ripped around town with the Syrian odd couple, and toured miles in the oldest covered market in the world leading to the Citadel.

My new "pad-lad" is also named Chris and hails from Lester (look it up). He is witty, as talkative, and also as political as I can be sometimes. We have been getting along famously. I have agreed to call soccer "football" and he calls biscuits "cookies." It's a nice relationship :)

Late one night at the Pullman Hotel. I chatted up the nice girl next to me on the veranda and soon Chris in I were smoking "hubble-bubble" with them and drinking beer. The guy was from Greece escaping the games when he got retained by the government to serve in the army. He's been in Greece for twenty years - his arabic was even rusty. So needless to say he was less than pleased with his situation, and his "family friend" was really talkative. We were quite entertaining with the point and name system. We spoke to her through him and vice-versa. They drug us all through town looking for a pub or a club. Finally we ended up after two at this Armenian wedding party at a poolside restaurant. What a sight to see. Dancing, smoking, eating, yelling (girls with the yelling, flicking tongue noise thing)and just carrying on into the wee hours of the morning. We lasted until about four and then called it a night. The wierd thing was not only was this girl VERY western in attitude and dress (VERY), she was loaded! She paid for everything like it was nothing. Even our cab fair home. Sweeeet.

Previously that day we spent all day walking around through the Citadel with our friend and personal tour guide Lilit. The Citadel is hundreds of years old and one of the most fortified castles ever. This thing is awesome: moat, ampitheater, stables, water and crop storage, torture chambers, and the kings room was like a palacial football field. DAMN! I got lots of pictures for you history buffs. The view from up there was great.

Sunday after being up all night we were up-and-at-em early to check out the oldest Armenian church in these parts again with Lilit. It was like 800 years old. The story goes that a Armenian wise man went to Osman to ask if they could build a church. Osman said they could build one no bigger than the size of a sea shipping container (something like a barrel I am guessing). So he then goes home and begins to cut this thing into one long tiny strip and unravels it to lay out. This makes a space around maybe ten or fifteen square yards. He then goes back to Osman and proclaims that his church fits inside the container (that's balls). Osman let them keep it - the original chapel is tiny and there are catacombs under it but only priests of the temple can go down there.

After church yesterday, and most of the day today Chris and I walked around town and visited the shops. After getting totally lost in some back lot of a bulk foods market a guy adopted us and walked us around to the old city wall and the beginning of the maze of suqs that goes through the city. There is everything here and it goes on for miles. All covered and original stone this place was amazing. Stores carrying everything from lambs heads to fine linens. It is amazing how stores here operate. If you don't barter with them you are totally getting ripped off. It is expected for you - it is like a game of chess. A meeting of the minds to haggle over the prices. I have yet to buy anything but I am learning the number system so I can!

As we were walking through the suq Chris remembered that his parents stayed in an Inn close by and we found the sign. It led down the alley that was reminiscent of a Dungeons & Dragons story. Tight knit cobblestone and close walls that ended in a large metal door with a hanging sign overhead. The innkeeper may or may not have remembered his parents but he invited us in for some drinks. His Inn opened up into this beautiful courtyard with plants and rugs hanging about on the walls. It was beautiful and serene. You couldn't hear the bussling market just meters away. He had sodas brought to us and we talked about Syria, where we were from, an Iraqi man we talked to in the streets - just random lazy day conversation. What a kind man.

Our suq-walk ended in front of the Citadel and we sat down for a rest, some number memorization practice, and some fresh juice. The fruit here is fabulous. After a while we decided to hail a cab and head back here to check our email. The cabby was pretty good and avoided most of rush hour while giving us a good tour of cross-town traffic. Just another day in Allepo.

Love and miss everyone.

Coming soon...

2004-08-19T17:06:00.000+03:00

Also, in the next week or two I will have my computer set up at school so I can begin posting various pictures of my adventure. Little things like 5000 year old ruins, ferral cats, and bread companies with logos like "Tasty Pain." Oh yeah!

One week anniversary

2004-08-19T16:52:00.000+03:00

Well it has been one week now and here is what I have accomplished. Hours ago I rode on a minivan bus that will take you anywhere for five pounds (ten cents), and also earlier had a near miss with a nice Mercedes in a tiny little taxi. This morning I ate at Batata (potatoe), which is the Syrian McDonalds, and met a girl that lived in the US for three years. She gave me a gift, I gave her a high-five (plus I think she was sweet on me). Last night I found an amazing apartment in the downtown area that I will move into shortly. I have met or seen resumes of all the Syrians that will be working at the school (I'm conviced you have to be a Super Model to apply...no shit). I've been losing a battle to microbes in the Levant, but think the tides are soon to turn. For the past many days I have learned taxi directions, money, please and thank you's (momma done raised me right), as well as numbers, greetings, and a few random words like cat and diarreah (two things common to Syria). All in all I am very pleased with the wonderful people, the rich food, and the knowledge that I am being watched all over the country (eyes and ears are everywhere hear)- it's SORT of comforting...

I have arrived

2004-08-13T18:44:00.000+03:00

After many hours of travel I am finally here in Aleppo. What a wonderful country. There is a saying here that translates basically to "it'll get done when it gets done." This is how I find my new life here, and it makes the south look like New York City. The people here are amazingly friendly and I have already befriended some neighborhood children.

People here own more westernized things than I do. T-shirts, cars, cell phones, sundries, all of which came from the US via Canada or another of our main trade partners. The cat holes in lieu of toilets were a suprise but they are old school and not in any of the modern places.

There are no weapons of mass destruction - I looked. On that same note, if anything IS here it is held by one or two really rich people not the government, because the government doesn't have the resources. This is a very poor country and those that have money don't make it on everyday jobs, they import or own multiple businesses, properties, or textiles. Everyone else just lives. On the drive north I saw many people sharecropping large farms, and many more just living in tents in fields. Most dwellings are large eastern block looking buildings. The only way I can describe it is if you could mix East Germany with a Navajo reservation. The more affluent can afford a manor type home that has walls around it and a courtyard. In the city it is mostly apartment living in giant stone buildings that are beautifully built. The architecture here is amazing. I look forward to sharing more with all of you. Mom and Jason email me because I don't have your email addresses. Talk to you soon.

All set and ready to go.

2004-08-10T02:11:00.000+03:00

I have said most of my good-byes, and I am as ready to go as I will be. I love all of my friends and family and look forward to keeping in touch with you here. Talk to you soon!