On leaving Iran.
I promised to write something reflecting on my 3 weeks in Iran, so here it is... My first impressions of the country were from the people I met on the boat from Sharjah in UAE to Bandar Abbas in Iran. They were curious, friendly and hospitable, much like the other nationalities here in the middle east, but after three weeks in the country, and since leaving it for Syria, I can look back and identify what is different about the Iranians.
For one, they are not Arabs, whilst there is a mixture of Arab/Persian in some parts of the country, the majority of people are of Persian race with other mixtures of Turkish/Afghan/Pakistan.. creaping in at the borders. Iranians are very nationalistic and .... I don't know what I am trying to say here, a short history of Iran, I think you can find that elsewhere, an account of what I felt, this is too difficult to put into words, or am I just being lazy? I will repeat what I have said before: People are the same the world over, inside their hearts, inside their heads. they want security for their families, enough food to eat and shelter. What created many of the problems, if not all, in the world, is the inequalities between rich and poor. People would not want for things if they did not see others with more than them. Revolutions would not be needed if individuals had the opportunity to become as powerful or as rich as the next man.
Before this trip I began to doubt our system of democracy. I have now proved to myself, that the world is not a "dangerous place" as George Bush and the UK Foreign Office think it is. I was also wondering if the relentless message that our system of democracy was the best was also an untruth. But, on reflection, I do believe in our system of democracy, despite its many drawbacks. It is far from perfect. But, I believe that the freedom of the individual is the most important thing. And I am seeing with my own eyes that many people are not free in this part of the world, they cannot say what they want and they do not have the chance to be the government. we have the chance to be the govenment in the UK, but so few people want to take up the challenge and put the effort in to change things for the better.
I have been in Syria for 3 weeks now and I have just extended my visa to stay for another week or so. Two of those weeks have been here in Damascus. I rented a room with a local Dentist called Sam, who lives in a flat above his practice in BaHsa, the heart of new Damascus. Basically I got bored of travelling, backpacking can be great fun, but after a few weeks of travelling around, staying in shitty hotels, taking photographs of tourist sites and just hanging out, it can get a little boring. Undoubtedly, the best way to see a country is to go and visit somebody there who can show you around (as in Iran) but the second best option for me, is to rent a place and live somewhere.
Sam turned out to be a really honest, nice guy, who has turned into a friend, which is why I have continued to stay here. The other reason is that I have found some friends to teach me arabic. I met Ma and Noo, a Syrian mother and daughter in the street one night, and they took me out for Shwarma (Kebab) and humous (chick peas) I explained the situation that I was looking to stay in Damascus for a week and study Arabic. They both spoke good English anyway, but they offered to exchange Arabic classes for English conversation.
Up until this point I was thinking of coming home early because I was not feeling satisfied with travel anymore, I felt that I was just drifting about with no purpose. One of the things that I had told myself was that the coming masters degree is going to be difficult and I should sort out my maths problems and prepare some bioinformatics reading beforehand. I had asked Phil and Mark from Hull to download me some e-books (thanks) before I came away, so I had a number to choose from on CD. Suddenly, after 6 weeks of wandering about, my life had structure again. I soon had a routine, of 2 hours biology, 2 hours of maths, lunch with Ma, No and Nu, Ma's mum and then a 3 hour Arabic class. I used to hate having a schedule to my life, but these days I prefere it. I feel I am back on track moving towards something, and learning.
I can now read and write the arabic alphabet, and my converstainal Arabic goes as far as my Farsi did in Iran, (family, travel, me, studies, questions, numbers) No is a slave driver and is forcing me to read books already, which is very difficult, but great for the practice. The language can sound like poetry when read nicely, but it is difficult because it has a quiet a few sounds that we do not have in English, such as a breathy H sound, like the ahh sound when you taste a cold drink on a hot day. The other day I had a 4 hour wait outside a shwarma shop for someone who never turned up. I am used to this by now, so it wasn't an issue, but gave me the chance to be emersed in people who did not speak english and for the first time in two weeks, I felt that I was getting somewhere with the spoken language as I was holding conversations. There is a point with language when things start to click. You rarely notice it as you are going along, but then you hit a stage where you think "I could not have said that before now!", it just takes time for the sounds to fit together in your head and for you to get used to saying them. I do not know how much further I will take the arabic, but it is nice to know this much, maybe I will continue it in the future.
A few stories that I missed from before:
Bomb in Van
My route through Turkey went from Van to Batman, where I met a great Kurdish guy who invited me to his home to talk politics, then onto Sanliurfa and then Antakya, crossing the border into Syria at 11pm at night in a shared taxi, not the best way, but I was happy to be in Syria. The day after i left Van in Turkey, Kurdish seperatists blew up a van just as a local politician was going past.
I stayed a few days in Allepo in syria and made some great friends in a local restaurant there, an old man who used to write for the BBC Arabic service, very intersting. Also some students my age, who had set up a make-up shop. Moving on to Hama, visiting Apamea some more roman ruines and then onto Homs and the famous crusader castle Craq de Chevaliers.
When not to hitchhike
The microbuses had stopped in the afternoon when I wanted to come back from the castle to Hama, so I hitched by the side of the road for a bus or taxi. I had decided not to hitchike in Syria and Turkey due to the recent kinappings in Iraq, but this time this was my only option. A van stopped and two guys negotiated a fare with me. 50 pounds we agreed on for about 40km I think. (Syrian Pounds, 1 GBP = 95 SP!). They were idiots and had nothing to say except asking if I could find them a british wife, or if they could marry my sister, I laughed along politely and then pretended to sleep. later they upped the price to 100 to take me to the bus station, I argued with them, politely smiling and told them no. From under the drivers leg (not under the seat, he was actually sitting on it), he pulled out a large hand gun. Whilst his friend laughed and told him to put it back, I laughed too, quite relaxed, gave them the 50 pounds and they stopped the van. The local policeman directed me to the bus station.
German Spies
Whilst visiting the ancient Roman ruines of Palmyra, I met a German soldier who was a military attache to the embassey in Damascus. He offered me a lift to Damascus the next day. Along with an escort by the secret police, secretly following us to make sure we left Palmyra, as there was a military base there also.
Fire in the hold
There was a fire in the shop inderneath the apartment here on friday, and the whole apartment filled with horrible black smoke. OK now though.
