On the Seventeenth Day of Exile my True Love brought to me ingredients for a traditional Syrian dish. Oh I absolutely adore my One True Love.
Indeed, this is our seventeenth day in Washington DC and exile couldn’t smell or taste any sweeter. But this is only “me” talking – I who logs my exile around like a cross, a simultaneously cherished and reviled possession. Continue reading “Day Seventeen!”
Syrians have long believed that we are an exception to the regional rule. Stupid leaders, for instance, exist in Iraq and Somalia, but not in Syria. Oh no, “truth” be said, and certain mulish and other sordid qualities aside, our leaders tend to be smart, quite smart. So smart, in fact, they often outsmart themselves.
Continue reading “The Syrian Exception or, the Fly People!”
It’s a matter of days now. Advertisement boards across the country are busy announcing the coming of a new old age that will allow Syria to “pulsate” again with humanity, culture and inadvertently even blood.*
Myriad of festivals, fairs and activities are being held everywhere in the country – a bit unusual really for this Baathist bastion, still the air remains as stale as ever, if not more so. Continue reading “Last Days!”