from sunrise at the lincoln to sunset in damascus

a) Happy Birthday Xochhhhhhh! Lovelovelove

b) Yesterday was my first class at the UN Relief Works Agency. I was teaching at the UNRWA field office; there were around fifteen 30 to 40-year-old's, from both Palestine and Syria, who were trying to improve their spoken English. My “teaching” was just mostly prompting discussions and conversations, and then a little bit of grammar and sentence structure.

All of the women in the class were incredibly friendly and respectful, even though they were all tens of years older than me. The men in the class were nice too, for the most part, though at times overly nice. When I asked for everyone to briefly introduce and describe themselves, one man instantly made clear that he was single and was looking for a wife. Another man, who was married, was also very forward. He was talking to some of the others about me in Arabic, but I understood everything that he was saying. When one of the women in the class pointed out that he was already married, he responded with “Yes, but my wife is getting old.” He later pointedly commented that the best way to learn English would be to marry an American girl.

The teacher before me was from Holland, so most of my class' discussions were centered around me being from America. One man was very upfront with his opinions about America, and persistently asked me to share my opinions about various situations. He asked about the reasons for the relationship between the U.S. and Israel, about Americans only following what we are told by our media, about racism within America, and discrimination against certain religions. I tried to prompt discussion with all of these questions, but it kept on veering to political opinions and views on the media. Only this one man had any interest in pushing these subjects, and I definitely felt inappropriate prompting political questions. I just kept on repeating that the range of opinion in the U.S. is great and that of course the government's actions do not represent the opinions of all Americans. I tried to bring up the idea that even I as an American am discriminated against and looked down upon by certain people, sometimes in Syria. We spent most of the two hours talking about daily life, cultural differences and traditions, and television. A different man insisted that women do not listen to or watch the news ever, because it simply doesn't interest them. The women in the class, of course, were defensive and tried to convince him otherwise, but he became agitatedly unmoving about his idea that woman only were interested in watching soap operas.
The culture in classrooms is also very different in terms of answering cell phones. I know from watching a few of the Libyan students at Damascus University pick up their cells in the middle of class, and from talking to friends from Jordan who had witnessed the same thing, that answering phones in class is fairly common. About ten cells were answered in the two hours I was trying to teach.

c)Daniela and her friend came to visit, and being around her always makes me feel so positive :) but at the same time, many of my friends from Damascus have left in the last week. Adam's family arrives in Damascus in a matter of hours... this part of my year is really winding down.

Some of us went back up to the top of the mountain again, to watch the sun go down over the city. It really does give you the same feeling as watching the sun rise at the Lincoln Memorial... you just end up feeling so small, and thinking about life and the people you care about... looking at the orange and maroon clouds collide with the tops of the Damascus buildings gives me the same feeling of home as watching the sun frame the Washington in the early-morning distance. I'm glad that I don't have to say good-bye to this city indefinitely quite yet.

christmas in the air?

First of all, so much love for Jess. She left Damascus a week ago, and it's not the same. There have been so many laughs and great times with this girl... she is one of the sweetest and funniest people I've ever met. Beyond excited for London oh TEN!

Christmas is in the air in Damascus... ironically? Most of the streets that I walk down, at least in the Old City and the area around Sharia Baghdad, are filled with shops selling ornaments, wreaths, and Santa hats. There are mini Christmas trees next to posters of Al-Assad's face. It's a lot of Christmas cheer for a city with a 10% Christian minority.

Lately, I feel like I've been having more serious discussions with my friends, mostly veering towards cultural differences. I've had more talks of religious tensions, the treatment of women, how events are framed in both Western and Syrian news sources. The honeymoon period of living here ended a while ago, though I still love this city. I feel like whenever I'm in a group of women my age, we end up talking about our many similar harassment experiences. Everyone who I talk to seems to feel the same way... whether it's someone touching you on the street, following you in a car, or just the constant intense staring, the harassment has, understandably, worn a lot of girls down. After four months, I can sadly see that I am more constantly on edge. I know, from stories and much personal experience, that harassment in Damascus is much less prevalent than in most Middle Eastern cities, but it is still grating. I've started walking most places with my ipod just so I don't hear as many comments.

One month from today, I'll be back in the district! Instead of walking down the street eating falafel from a stand, next to a car blaring music with lyrics like “Habibiti, ya albi, ya amri”... I'll be eating Chinese food with my girls listening to some ridiculous rap song near the monuments. I could not be happier for this brief return to normalcy.

Sayyida Zeinab...

BBC News- Damascus bus explosion kills three people
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/middle_east/8392369.stm

There has been a lot of confusion about what actually happened yesterday... it went from a terrorist attack with the extremist group already pegged to a tire explosion. It's still not clear, from the media or the government officials, but ultimately it's just incredibly sad that several people including a 13-year-old boy were killed. And I'll just say that not many tire explosions cause the type of destruction that was seen at this gas station, especially on a Shia holiday in front of a holy Shia mosque.

transatlanticism

Last week I sort of had a moment, when I was watching “Lost in Translation." It's such a good one... but shit. I was watching it in a basement in Syria, where I've been for over three months, not three days. And where my problems aren't elliptical machines that are too advanced or being confused by sushi similarities, but the lack of running water one day, and electricity another day. It's just ironic to watch something about cultural differences and isolation during a week trip to Tokyo when you are sitting in the middle of a Syrian winter feeling kind of burnt out.

Props to Myles for figuring out how to fix the electricity... finding copper wire in the Chinese Cultural Center, shaving it down, going into this random room of our building and somehow reconfiguring the fuses?? Without electrocuting himself? Major props.

A few days ago I went to this beautiful monastery called Marmousa with Myles, Kate, and a bunch of Kate's friends and room mates. It was in this mountain around two hours outside of Damascus, built into the rocks of a cliff, and surrounded by nothing but vast desert. It took us a while to climb up the steps to the church, but upon reaching the building, you overlook the most surreal view. The deep red desert sand and blue cloudless sky, with the moon out in daytime. It was stunning, but we've seen so many absolutely indescribable and stunning things here, that I wouldn't think it would affect me all that much. It completely did; it was just so peaceful and endless. The monastery was set up so that you can stay overnight for free if you just pitch in washing dishes or cleaning a bit. And the church was one of the most comforting places I've ever been. It had these old, brightly colored paintings on the wall, none of which had been renovated. Most of the paint was chipping away, but it was just so homey and unintimidating. It was small too, so only a few people were in it. No one was quiet because of rules or necessity, we were just quiet because we wanted to be respectful. Someone was in the corner reading, and cushions were set up along some of the edges to sit. After we explored and were waiting for Kate's friends to come back, I went back in by myself and sat in front of this tin tray with candles in it. Most of them were just melted wax lining the bottom, but 11 candles stilled burned... I just sat there for a while and thought about my family. My whole family, friends included. There are people back home who I've been thinking a lot about, from those who have recently died to those dealing with family sicknesses to those who are just so strong in everything they do. I've never been religious, though I've always had my own sort of spirituality... I can count the times that I've prayed on one hand, but this was one of them.

Probably not any time in the immediate future, but maybe in a few years, I would love to go back and stay there for a few days. All you would need are some books and maybe a journal and a camera. I feel like you would just be able to sit for a week and write poetry.

Speaking of being thankful for friends and family... We actually had a really nice Thanksgiving last week. We went to one of Myles' friends' houses, with a bunch of other Americans... and actual Thanksgiving food! Not gonna lie, Myles and I made the most EPIC stuffing ever... we were scared all day that it was going to be a complete failure, but it was actually really good... someone may have said it was the best stuffing he'd ever had... shockingly enough haha.

fi kahera

Cairo to visit Sarah!
Had a brief stop in Jordan with Kate, got to see Dani and Andrew (always so much fun!)... then after frantically deciding that buying plane tickets was easier than a 30 hour bus/ boat ride, we went to misssssr! The night we got there, it was the last Egypt-Algeria soccer game, and Egypt had to win by two goals to even re-play Algeria and have a chance in moving on towards the World Cup. We watched it in an outside sheesha cafe with Sarah and a bunch of her friends. Everyone was showing more Egyptian pride than any sort of nationalism I've ever seen, with face paint, chants and screams, capes made out of flags... everything around us was red and black and yellow and white. Even the cars were painted, or had kids hanging out of them holding flags; all of them were honking one distinct cheer. Sarah and I joined in with the face paint and cheers, and I completely caught the nerves of everyone around us when it seemed like Egypt would only win with one point. Then in the last few overtime minutes, Misr scored a second goal, and the whole city erupted. My only comparison to the hours that followed is D.C. after Obama was elected last year, with chaos in the streets and complete joy spilling over in front of the White House. Thousands and thousands of people filled the streets of Mohandiseen, with torches and fireworks, more flags, cheers of “Misr!!” echoing everywhere. I can't imagine how crazy downtown must have been. People covered the street, and spilled out of the cars that managed to drive by, or just sat on top of them. We saw one car slam into another, causing maybe ten kids sitting on top of it to jolt into the street. The fireworks swirled everywhere, low to the ground, showering everyone in sparks... but it was a beautiful night to be a part of, and no one around us was hurt at all. The chaotic street celebrations lasted hours longer than I thought they would.

Over the next few days, Myles, Adam and I visited the Citadel and pyramids and Coptic Cairo, all of which I have been to before, but they never lose their power. You never feel any less small when you stand looking over the edge of the Citadel, seeing the Giza pyramids miles away, and the mosques of Cairo intermixed with the buildings and streets. It was nice to be with Myles and Adam for their first time in Cairo, seeing all of this. It's also bizarre how well some people remembered me from my last two trips to Egypt. One of the store owners in the Coptic area said that we were “old friends from the last few years.” Even weirder, some guy who worked at the Citadel not only remembered me, but knew it was my third time visiting the Citadel, because of my blue eyes.

Possibly the most epic moment of the trip was riding horses in front of the pyramids at night... I didn't know until that night that horses scare the shit out of me. It was dark when we got to the pyramids. The four of us, as well as several of Sarah's friends and a few guides, piled onto these Arab horse and were simply told to start riding. So we went off into the Sahara desert, with no instructions, and I had never even sat on a horse before... yea. My horse was partially blind, and kept on trotting away from the rest of my group. I learned, after several border-line panick attacks, that every time it lowered its head, it would begin to go faster. Definitely had a moment when I realized that if it wanted to, the horse could just start running into the dark Sahara, and I really had no way of stopping it. Most of the way to the campsite, Sarah and I were just frantically saying “Shway shway, habibi!” and “Mish bisora!” because at the time it seemed to make sense that speaking Egyptian Arabic to the horses would get them to do what we wanted? Then on the way back, one of the horses started bolting forward, and got the others to gallop unexpectedly as well. Next thing I know, I see one of the horses running figure eights up and down the sandy hills with Sarah's friend on it screaming “It won't stopppp!”... and I see Adam walking towards us, after being thrown off of his own horse, with wild dogs approaching... Myles' horse was also crazy, trying to kick all of the others. I managed to not freak out at the end when my horse broke into a gallop across a field and had to stop short to prevent us from crashing into a wall. Altogether, it was an, ahem, interesting introduction to horse riding.

We had some really fun nights out, at the Cairo Jazz Club, a second Egypt-Algeria soccer game (Egypt lost... sad), and of course I got to see my girl Sarah and my friend Steph, and meet some really cool people. And we finally ate American-style food, which we have been intensely missing... bagel sandwich. Omlette. Pancakes. Oh man.

Sarah came back to Damascus with us, after a brief but eventful stop in Jordan again. Adam lost his passport, and there was a definite hour of panic when we tried to figure out what to do. Our airport cab driver ended up calling Kate's hostel and bringing it back to him for some money, والحمد لله. We spent a longgg time on the Syria-Jordan border in the middle of the night while Kate, Adam, and Sarah tried to get new visas. Finally, after a solid four hours and a few drinks from the duty free store, when went back to Damascus. Went to the Omayyad mosque, and to the top of the Jebel at sunset, two things that I am SO happy to have finally done, and shocked that its taken me this long to get to. I wish Zahara could have stayed here with us :( She is greatly missed.

Also... we moved. Long, complicated process that may or may not be over yet... we have a really... eclectic?... new apartment in the basement of a building on Sharia Baghdad. It has a little courtyard where three massive cats hang out, and is covered with blue paint, about 12 couches, and fake flowers. We live about 20 minutes outside of the old city, so it's still easy to go back and visit our old stompin' grounds.

what? it's cold in syria?

So. Context of my life right now: it's pouring out and freezing; I of course didn't anticipate either so have no warm or waterproof clothes or shoes. Soaking wet from walking home from the bus stop. When I get home our gas tank is empty, so we can't cook or heat water. My room, which is realistically a closet-sized shack with a broken window on our building's roof, is not only heatless but it is now leaking. We have no entertainment: no dvd-player, no new books, and no games. We now basically have no way to dry ourselves, warm ourselves, or cook. So I am sitting curled up on a bed in Syria, basically unable to leave my room, a cup balanced next to me to catch to rain drops that would be on my pillow, finishing the seventh Harry Potter, which i've already read this month, and eating blue cheese dressing with a fork (though to be honest I couldn't be more thrilled to have finally found this). Good times, good times...

Going back and forth between feeling like I could live here forever and really missing home. I had a moment in a cab yesterday, when I was coming back from shopping at Sham City Center, the western supermarket (finallllly have some peanut-butter and soup!), and I was looking out of the window at all of the specks of light that cover the mountain next to the city. And I realized that I could really live here. For more than just 8 months; I could see myself getting a job here in the future. It's such a simple thing, but I know that when I get back to the U.S., I am going to miss the mosques. They bring such intricate beauty and tradition to the city. Whenever you drive around in a bus or cab, you drive by tens of sparkling teal and ivory mosques, though they may neighbor a market or hotel or even Costa Coffee. And when you walk on the streets, you see girls wearing 4-inch red heals with a matching Chanel hijab next to women in covered completely in black clothe. There is just such a richness to the culture of Damascus that I love, and such diversity. Even the terrain of the city itself: the Jebel, with scattered buildings covering it, towering next to the city; the viney allies of the Old City; the desert-rimmed highways of Mezzah. The only constant pitfalls to my life here are the slightly lessened living standards, the language barrier, and the harassment that comes from being a woman. The living standards and language barrier just cause me to push myself, and in my opinion, everyone can use more of that... The harassment comes and goes, at varying levels, and never gets any easier to accept. But it has given me a sort of anger that has if anything has led to empowerment, and the hard-set idea that every woman is entitled to complete respect. This empowerment is only enhanced by the strength and sassiness and opinionated demeanor of every woman I've met here.

The tough part is really missing my friends and family. In the last week, three of my very best friends had their birthdays, two of them having their 21st birthdays. It sucks not to be back with them. That, compiled with being sick and therefore emotional for the last few days, has really made me long for everything I'm missing. Sitting in my best friend's basement for hours, walks around the National Mall, random texts about music lyrics, laughing at our own awkwardness, eating Chinese food or soy buffalo wings and making lists :) Haha, no better moments in the world than these. I just miss beeeeing with all of my best friends, and talking to them. Could not love them more <3

roadtrrrrip

We rented a car and drove to the Euphrates River last weekend! Went up to the North-Eastern area of Syria, through Homs to Al-Thura and Lake Assad and then Deir Ezour, about 45 minutes away from Iraq. I saw amazing, still half-buried fortresses and an entirely different Syria than I'm used to. While driving to visit all of the sites, there was such contrast between the lush Euphrates surroundings, with farms and animals and mud instead of sand, and the barren desert, so much like pictures of neighboring Iraq. The first night while driving back from the Qal'at Ja'bar fortress, we stumbled across a hostel that was really just a house full of random shabab and friends of the owner. There was no toilet or shower at all in the hostel, just a hole in the ground. We ended up chatting with the owners and their friends outside for a while with some tea and sheesha. They were very friendly and open, but the conversation took an inevitably awkward turn when they started asking why so many people in America dislike Arabs, with our also inevitably awkward apology in broken colloquial. The conversation finished with the pointed mention of how the only unmarried man in the group prefered American women, something that happens all too often. Still, nothing but good memories of the hostel.

The next day when we left, we had two po-po friends in a white car following us; this was the first time that has happened. We eventually asked them who they were (even though we knew, and the were unexpectedly honest. The two men ended up being very friendly and helpful; at a few points when we were lost, they let us follow them for a while instead. They were with us through about half of the second day, and then we accidentally left them at a falafel shop. The third day, when when we crossed the famous dam, which is also placed on the Syrian 10 cent coin, we were stopped again by guards outside of the bridge. After a while of being detained, our friendly po-po returned in their white car to follow us again. By then we were basically on a first-name basis, so we were all chill.

The fortresses at Rasafa and Qal'at Ja'bar were so un-earthed, it was an archeologist's dream. Everything we were standing on was just layered above cathedral-sized halls; an underground world buried in dirt and sand.

After Rasafa, we drove further down the Euphrates, past cows and cotton fields, to another ancient fortress. We ended up on the wrong side of the Euphrates, and not being sure if we could drive across the river, we parked in the sand next to a family's desert-patched yard. They, for good reason, just stared at us and our silver car quizzically on our way back and forth. We hiked down a grassy path made by a pipe to the river, walking along the bank before we came to a bridge. A truck saw the five of us and slowed down so that we could run half-way across the bridge and jump in. There were more guards at the end of the bridge, and of course we prompted a lot of questions: one British and four American kids, who know a decent amount of Arabic, who rented a car and were driving around the area outside of Iraq, yet instead of driving to the fortress, decided to park it in a Syrian family's yard and hitchhike. Not our brightest moment.

Again, the view of the Euphrates valleys, and the fortress itself, were breathtaking. The next day we explored an island in Lake Assad for about three hours. We were the only ones there, and after swimming, we picked up shards of pottery around another ancient, run-down look-out tower. I've seen so much beauty since I've been here... I'm so lucky.

This was the Syria that everyone I know, myself included, seems to think of automatically. The North was the stereotype that Damascus so defies, of conservative dress and intense religion, where foreigners are rare. The people live the rural life of hard work and border-line isolation from the rest of the world. It was different from any lifestyle I've ever been around.

2 months in...

... and it's really started to feel like home. It's been over a month since my last post, and not only have I completed my first session at Damascus U, but I've made friends who I can tell will be very long-lasting, had a crazy Eid in Beirut, settled into the Old City, and seen more of the beauty that is Syria.

The days spent in Beirut, and Lebanon in general, were some of the most fun and memorable days I've had. The city itself was stunning; on one side there is the ocean and on the other there are huge green mountains, with a strip of white city in between. The streets and architecture and general culture felt more like Europe than the Middle East, but then you would see a mosque and remember where you actually were. We saw amazing things while staying in Beirut, like the underground limestone Jeita Grotto caves and the ancient city of Byblos... but it was our nights in Beirut that made the trip so epic. We managed to find Jemayze street, filled with bars and music and life, on our first night, and returned on our second and third nights as well. Too many laughs to even remember, talks of finding a boat to Cyprus in the early morning hours, ending up at the Radison Hotel instead of the Regis Hotel all to often... I'm so glad that Jess, Myles, Adam and I made this trip. We spent the last day in Tripoli, and ended up taking a boat out to an "island" that really just turned out to be a chunk of cement about 10 minutes into the sea; then, of course, we managed to find the one bar in Tripoli and re-live the fun we had in Beirut.

I can finally say that I've seen the diversity of areas within Syria as well now. Roula, one of the daughters from our family, took us to a city called Ma'loula for the "Holiday of the Cross." Ma'loula is the last place in the world where Aramaic, the language of Jesus, is spoken. We arrived at night, and it was the craziest holiday I've ever experienced. This Syrian holiday consists of the tradition of throwing fire off of the cliffs surrounding the city. Yea. So the tops of the cliffs were all ablaze, and then tires which had been lit on fire were thrown down the cliffs. Into the CITY where people's HOUSES were. When we got there, Roula's friend just turned to us and said "Keep in mind that if you see a fireball coming at you, you have to run..." Fireworks were going off constantly and all around us, at times almost hitting us and covering us in ash. It sounded like we were in a crossfire... for some reason I loved the adrenaline though.

Last week, I went to Aleppo with my friend Kate and a few other girls. Aleppo was such a livable city, and made Damascus seem cosmopolitan in a way I had never felt before. We explored its amazing underground souk, and sat on top of the Citadel until the sun was setting. The citadel overlooked everything... the view was just of hundreds of mosques, thousands of buildings and winding streets. Somehow, even though almost of the buildings were the same tainted gray, it seemed like such a colorful view.

And finally, a few days ago, Myles, Adam, and I made it to Crac de Chevaliers. We've seen so many ruins lately that I honestly didn't have crazy expectations for Crac, but this castle was one of my favorite places that I've seen thus far. It was much bigger than I had expected, and it was filled with tunnels and beautiful connected halls. I felt like a little kid on a playground, just exploring the underground areas by holding up lighters and finding ways to climb through the chipped-away windows. This was also the first time I've had a real view of the Syrian countryside.

الأردن

Jordan. Was. Beautiful. And amazing. The drive down was kind of a mess (we chilled for many hours with a twitching, coked-out cab driver who hadn't eaten or drank anything all day because of Ramadan) and the first night we encountered our first reallllllly sketchy situation in downtown Amman, involving the three of us being led into an alley and me being propositioned for sex. But the city was beautiful in a very different way from Damascus, with the houses of Amman layered on hills. Then on to Mount Nevo, where Moses was supposedly buried... the Jordan River, where Jesus' baptism was held, and where we were literally feet away from the West Bank... the Dead Sea, which which just frickin crazy, you literally could not sink even if you put all of your effort into it. That night we spent back in Amman with Dani (!!! yayyyy <3 ) and Myles' friend Andrew, who is the sweetest guy ever. Next two days we were in Petra, and the beauty of Petra is honestly beyond words. It is just a canyon with elaborate natural splits in beautifully colored sandstone, and then you turn the corner to see Roman tombs and palaces cut into the rock. I have never seen anything like it.

Now we are back in Damascus, and we all luckily made it into level 4 Arabic at Damascus U. The only bittersweet part about being back is that two of the closest friends we had here, Simone and Alice, both left Syria while we were gone. Startin to really bond with our family though, the two woman in the family are hilarious.

home from lattakia

Home in Damascus from Lattakia! There was something kinda poignant about reading "On the Road" during our bus ride through the Syrian country-side :)

Lattakia was beautiful, the beach on the Mediterranean was exactly what you see in pictures; just clear water, white buildings jutting out from the mountains on the coast, ports lined with teal mosques. The city had some great restaurants, but one of the biggest differences from Damascus was that the restaurants actually opened after sun-down, because of Ramadan. Here in the Old City, the rules about Ramadan are fairly flexible.

One more day here fi Damashq (and our Arabic placement exam, gahh), then off to the Dead Sea!

lets get 'er done

Move into the apartment tomorrow, got our mandatory AIDs test for Damascus University yesterday, went to the U.S. Embassy today, all set with passport photos/ copies/ all that good stuff... lotsa progress. We're also planning on going to Latakia, one of the coastal cities, this weekend, and hopefully we will go down to Jordan and the Dead sea after our placement exam on Monday.

It's gonna be sad to leave the hostel. The rabbits (Baba Ghanoush and Fattoush) are sort of amazing. Everyone who is staying in the hostel and all of the staff who work there have been indescribably helpful this past week. Alice, a sweet girl from London who goes to St. Andrew's University, has been the person who we've spent the most time with. She told us exactly how to go about registering with Damascus U, and she showed us around the Old City on our first few days. Without her we would have, literally, been lost here. There are a few other girls who also go to school in Scotland, one from Texas, who will attend the same Arabic session as us. And of course the older woman from Austria, who left today. The night we arrived we had a pretty intense debate about healthcare and immigration policies with her... even in Damascus, we soooo go to GW...

There are about 4 men who work at the hostel who have been so warm to us. Raymond, the owner, is from Australia but has been living here for a long time. He is the quirkiest man, and now that he's realized that it will freak me out, he keeps on "threatening" to cook the rabbits. The others are all Syrian. We sometimes have language barriers, but speaking with them has helped us understand a lot more Syrian amayaa. The day that Myles and I practiced Ramadan, and didn't eat or drink anything for about 17 hours, they included us in their feast afterwards.

We have also befriended the Kabboush family :) They were the ones who helped us find our apartment. We've gone out a few times with their two sons, Simone and Ivan, and the mother, Nada, is going to help us with our amayaa. Nada is coolest woman. Every word we say in Arabic, she makes us repeat it until we have the perfect pronunciation. When she saw me laughing at Adam, she whacked my arm. I feel like she is the classic tough-love yet motherly type of woman. The family has an art shop down the street from us, so I'm sure we will be seeing them a lot.

woot, apartment!

We found housing! It worked out so well. Myles, Adam and I were walking back from a restaurant and stopped to read a sign in Arabic. There was one word that we didn't understand, so an older couple who was sitting under the sign explained it to us. We began talking to them, and found out that they work at a tiny school teaching Arabic and own an art shop as well. We asked them a bunch of questions about learning amayya, and slipped in that we were looking for a place to live for about 4 months. The woman, Nada, walked over with us to a house, even though it was around midnight, and introduced us to the family who owned it. On the roof of the house, there are 3 rooms, a kitchen, and a bathroom, as well as this whole open area with chairs and a table. Myles, Adam and I will all have our own rooms (while still living together), be staying with such a nice, friendly family, in the middle of the Old City.

The family is made up of a mom, dad, at least three girls (I think we've only met two?), and two boys. All of the "children" from the family are actually in their late twenties and thirties. They are exceptionally nice, like basically everyone we've met here. We also met Nada's two sons yesterday, Ivan and Simon, who are probably around our age. We might go out with them tonight... haha maybe we have friends?

Also, facebook works sometimes. And gchat works. So. Happy. I'm talking to Amandi right now :)

Tomorrow Myles and I might actually try to fast for Ramadan. Ramadan began on the first real day we got here, but we've been able to eat inside during the day. The Old City is made up mostly of Christians, so we haven't really faced any barriers in terms of food. I didn't know that even drinking water is prohibited during Ramadan... dunno how that part will work out. No water might be hard when it's like 100 degrees...

in damascuuuuussss

Our flight was. so. fucked. up. The people around us were absolutely crazy, we had to sit on the plane for 6 hours before it took off, and random guys were playing LUTES the entire time. They were literally sitting in their seats strumming lutes. At one point they played "Push It."

We missed our flight from Vienna to Damascus, but it worked out amazingly. We were given free rooms in a luxurious hotel in Vienna for the rest of the day and night. Vienna is stunning, being there once made me want to go back.

And now we are in Damascus!! Getting off of the plane was surreal, knowing that this is going to be home for 9 months. The city is nothing like what I expected. It's better. There are winding streets and vines covering the souks and mosques and intricate details on everything. The people are so nice. It reminds me slightly of Fez, in Morocco.

Our hostel might possibly be the best place ever. Everything about it is eccentric, from the rope ladder that we climbed up to the rabbits and turtles that run around the cushioned sitting area. We have a tiny room, and it looks like a cabin from the inside. Last night after exploring inside the city walls, we just sat around smoking hookah and talking with others staying at the hostel.

Whooooo, Damascus!

it's all happening...

So... tomorrow I am printing off a one-way ticket, getting on a plane, and flying to Damascus. I'll have my two friends sitting next to me, two huge bags filled with clothes and hair gel and other crap, two years of Arabic classes under my belt, which will hopefully get me somewhere... but the rest is pretty uncertain. I'll climb a rope ladder up an ancient holy wall to get into my hostel. And then I'll probably look around at the vibrant beauty that I anticipate will fill Damascus, the city that I'll call home for the rest of the year.

I decided last spring that I wanted to take this semester off and focus solely on studying Arabic; recently, I decided to extend that to a year. Arabic has morphed from an academic interest into a passion for me. I don't just want to learn about wuzens and short vowels; I want to be able to travel around the Middle East and talk to people, learn about cultures through the local language, get to know about an individual's life by speaking to her in her own dialect. The classes at Damascus University are supposed to be intense, and that's exactly what I want right now. I also hope to volunteer with the UN High Commission for Refugees Office in Damascus. We are going to be living in a city that is home to one of the most intense refugee problems in the world. So many lives in Iraq have been destroyed, so many have been uprooted... I just want to do sommmmmething with the purpose of helping these people who have left their lives behind. Through volunteering with the UNHCR, I want to research refugee rights and the social assistance that is given to refugees. I want to try to view human rights from the eyes of those who understand the reality of conflict and its aftermath.

...on a different note. I cannot explain how much I will miss everyone. My friends have become my family. And I am so grateful for my family, my whole family, the one that runs so much deeper than blood. It breaks my heart to leave you guys, but I know that when I come back you will all be more amazing and more beautiful and you will continue to conquer the freaking world. I couldn't forget one moment, one laugh, one story, if I wanted to...

Not to be a tool and quote Kate Hudson from "Almost Famous," but it's all happening!