I should probably preface all my posts with that warning.. minus the implicit sexual reference.
Anyway, I was walking back from the old city tonight, because the bus service had stopped by the time I was ready to leave. And I was walking by the Citadel, which was quite beautiful on this clear, warm night when I saw a very strange ad posted on the Citadel wall. I swear on Jebus's modified so as to not be blasphemous name that I saw an ad for a blood donation. It read: Sick woman asking for donation of blood type O- or O+. I promise you, this was exactly what I read even though I was not sure at first what "kuliyat zaharat O-, O+" might mean, since the word kuliyat usually refers to a college in a university.. But the O-, O+ part made it plainly obvious. And puzzled me greatly..
On an unrelated but equally amusing note (that poor woman's unfortunate illness aside), I can happily confirm to you all that the Prophet Muhammad had some pretty badass uncles (here and in the preceding sentence is where the PG-13 rating comes from, if you wish to skip over this paragraph). He had one uncle named "Abu Talib" which means "Father of the Student" (for no reason that is readily apparent to me) who remained a polytheist (he never converted to Islam) but protected the prophet from his violently dissatisfied tribe to his death. But he had another uncle "Hamza bin abi Mutalab" (made all the more badass because his name is a letter of the Arabic alphabet) who one day, returning from hunting lions (it is pretty cool generally to hunt lions, but it really only becomes badass when you're hunting lions in Saudi Arabia, which, to my knowledge, has, nor has ever had any lions) went to the temple where Muhammad was praying and, seeing one of their tribe mistreating him, drew one of his arrows, saying to the offender, "Hey you with the yellowed butt* [I'll leave you to decide what that refers too.. with only the hint that that's the implicit sexual reference] Leave him alone!" And then shooting him with one of his arrows.
I was walking back from the old city because the bus service had stopped before I was ready to leave. I'm not sure of the rationality behind this cessation of service.. I think it might find use if it stayed running a little longer, but anyway I walked. Which, despite being a rather long distance, did not seem particularly so, because the night was very warm and beautiful. I bought a bottle of wine too (no, I know by now, Mom, that it would be indecent to drink a whole bottle of wine in one night). The wine I bought is known as Napoleon, and I think I have mentioned it before, but perhaps not on this web log. To those of you who are not yet familiar with it, it is a Syrian wine which costs about $2.50. This might be enough, but I think I should describe it further perhaps. For instance, I'm pretty sure by now that it is just unsweetened grape juice with 12% grain alcohol added in (or maybe just pure ethanol.. who knows?) and I would describe its bouquet as comprised primarily of artificial plastic grapes with subtle notes of Cheez-itz™. But it's not as bad as it sounds.
I don't have much else to report.. I'm planning to visit the National Museum tomorrow, which should be rather exciting. I'll be sure to tell you about what I see there. But I have homework to do now and I have never been one (and by never, I most likely mean always) to avoid homework or any sort of responsibility.
I am coming home soon! I am excited about this, but I have to say, on my walk back from the old city I waxed somewhat romantic about Syria… I saw a picture of Bashar al-Asad (they are everywhere) and I thought how I would miss seeing him. It would not take being eaten away by rats to make me confess that I love Big Brother, perhaps. You may consider me weak-willed, but I don't know how much I would feel inclined to resist a baby-sitting totalitarian government. I am happy to walk and feel safe, even if occasionally, or even frequently to pass a man with an AK-47 with collapsable stock. As the Lebanese poet Mahmoud Darweesh says "fi ash-Sham, Astatee'a an amshi wa anaama" (In the land of the north [Syria], I can walk around asleep). There is safety in despotism. Sometimes. (Though perhaps, as I think likely, that's not exactly what Darweesh meant).
At any rate, I will be happy to return to a place where I can freely speak my mind and fear no repercussions. I hope one doesn't have to travel to a place like Syria to realize that, but for me, at least, though I love this country and will be forever saddened if I cannot return someday, that's what it took. Patriotism is a balancing act between somewhat bigoted over-enthusiasm and terrible ingratitude, but it's an important act we all should learn. And perhaps I am the last to do so.
David
p.s. Amy, I don't know if you will be reading this, but I found you your tiger. Unfortunately, I tried bargaining with the owner, but the price he asked was too high and anyway, I think it's illegal to transport endangered species across national borders.. I have pictures though, and I promise to everyone that I will sincerely do my best to put more up on Picasa in the coming days.
*Homophobia is not badass
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