Community: Real Life

Syrian stories


Naomi

Naomi Prior, 23, is studying Arabic in Yemen. She tells us what life is like for an English woman in the intriguing Middle Eastern country.
Entry: 7

Naomi goes from a hot desert to snow-capped mountains as she travels through Syria, while trying to avoid taking a wrong turn to war-torn Iraq.

"Where are you from?", "Britain," I replied. "Do you know Boy George?" No, this wasn't a national verification test, but a common repertoire by Syrian shopkeepers in Aleppo Souk. The comedy of Aleppo Souq was just one of many surprises during my visit to Syria. I've always been attracted to visiting places that have a bad reputation, or somewhere that people know little about. That's one of the many things that appealed to me about working in Yemen - I wanted to see for myself whether Syria was really as bad as some of the stories I'd heard.

I spent seven days in Syria and was bowled over by the diversity of the country and its landscape, people, history and architecture. Our drive from Amman took us to the ancient city of Damascus (one of the oldest inhabited urban centres in the world). We then headed out to the east towards Iraq through a rocky and sandy desert, which stood empty apart from several groups of Bedouin grazing their goats. Some 245km from Damascus, we explored the ancient Roman Ruins of Palmyra, taking refuge from the hot desert sun under the archways of Palmyra.

"Three days previously we had been scrambling around the hot desert of Palmyra - now we were huddling under blankets at night with the snow-capped mountains of Lebanon in sight."

We headed west towards Homs and Hama where fertile agricultural lands framed the road, lush with olive trees and green fields. Heavy rain in Homs gave way to dry, but cold Aleppo, up towards the northern border with Turkey before we travelled south west towards Krak de Chevaliers. Here we really felt the extremes. Three days previously we had been scrambling around the hot desert of Palmyra - now we were huddling under blankets at night with the snow-capped mountains of Lebanon in sight. Rocky desert gave way to rolling green hills with flecks of grey limestone poking through, covered in beautiful spring flowers. Suddenly we were in a Syrian Switzerland, which inspired my friend and I to sing two beautiful renditions (ahem!) of the Sound of Music, much to our driver's delight as he tried not to drive the car off the road in protest. I was struck by the diversity of the people we encountered. Positioned strategically for trade routes for centuries, Syria has seen Romans, Alexander the Great, European Crusaders, British archaeologists, French imperialists, Armenian traders, 'Lawrence of Arabia' (T E Lawrence) and Agatha Christie, to name but a few, pass through and settle in its lands. There was definitely a greater number of red-haired and blued-eyed people in Aleppo than Damascus, as we drew closely towards Armenia, Turkey and Europe. Aleppo Souq had a greater concentration of Armenian traders and Kurds. This came home to me vividly in a taxi journey in Aleppo when I tried in vain to speak Arabic to a Kurdish taxi driver.

Baghdad cafe

Nice place for a quick cuppa

Syria has some 250,000 Kurds, which makes up approximately 6% of the Syrian population. The other group that stood out to me were the Bedouins. I was surprised just how many clusters of Bedouin tents I saw on the road to Palmyra, with herds of goats being tended nearby. Syria is home to around one million Bedouin, of which only 60% are still fully migratory in lifestyle. The most recently arrived group are the Iraqis. As in Jordan, I heard stories of the social and economic impact this has had on the Syrians, but at no time did I hear a suggestion that Syria shouldn't help its eastern neighbours. As we drove on the road towards Palmyra, signs to Baghdad started to appear and it was sobering to think how close we were to the conflict in Iraq. Yet at the same time it was hard to imagine the reality of the violence over the border when we were crossing the vast, empty, peaceful Syrian desert. However we were in no rush to see this for ourselves, constantly saying to our driver at junctions, "Don't take a right!" It would be just our luck that we couldn't do a three-point turn and suddenly we'd find ourselves in Iraq! The closest we got to Iraq was when we had a tea stop in the bizarre 'Baghdad Café on Route 66. In the middle of nowhere, framed by rocky hills and unique beehive-style houses, the Baghdad Café was a welcome rest stop before our journey continued.

Updated: 16/04/2010


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