Or Lattakia, or Latakkia, or whatever. I've seen each spelling, and each is a reasonable latinazation of the Greek. But what I didn't realize is that it is also Laodicea. I remember reading about that in the Bible! How about that; if I ever read the Bible again, I can say, "Hey, I was there!"
I liked Latakia. Like Damascus, it was unredeemably dirty; people chuck their trash everywhere. But it was very pleasant along the Mediterranean at night. As I walked along the beach road, there enticing smells. However I had just eaten a whole fish--that is, one that had been put before me whole, which never fails to confuse me a bit. I figured it out, though, and it was delicious.
Returning to Latakia, I was somewhat depressed at the number of women in chador and/or veils. There were far fewer in Latakia, which seems to be much more liberal. Not only were the majority of women wearing short sleeve or even sleeveless shirts, I saw several men in shorts, which I haven't seen at all in Damascus.
I was walking down the street yesterday, and a barber stepped out of his shop onto the sidewalk and called to me. Thinking it was just a comeon to get my business, I said, no, no, but then he held up what was unmistakably a can of beer wrapped in a plastic bag. So I joined him for a couple beers. Yes, I like Latakia. I ended up exchanging my fake Rolex with him--it's a gift-giving culture here, and being friendly seemed more important than keeping a fake watch. Besides, it's even better to say I have a watch that was given to me by a Syrian.
I did get a shave, though. It seems as though it's safe for an American to let a Syrian put a sharp blade to his throat.
I found out that the region around Latakia has a large proportion of Alwai (or Alewites), a somewhat obscure Muslim sect. Their doctrine is rather secretive--apparently only their religious readers get to know what's in their distinct set of writings in addition to the Quran--but from what litle is known about them, it seems to be a syncretic religion, in which the people kept many aspects of their traditional religion when they adopted Islam. Notably, they reject the idea that a mere mortal can actually live by the 5 pillars of Islam, so they believe you should just try to live a good life, as the prophet did. That may be the key to the liberalism of Latakia. It's damned hard to be fundamentalist when you don't know what the fundamentals of your faith are, and no great spiritual achievements are demanded of you.
There are a number of Christians, there, too. The hotel I stayed at had an icon of Mary with a very small but quite adult looking Jesus in her arms, and the 3-story, 24-hour internet cafe had a sign saying, "In God We Trust." Or maybe they are just announcing their fondness for American money.
Interestingly, although the Alawi are a distinct minority, President Assad is Alawi, as are most of his inner circle. That, coupled with the secularism of the Baath Party, doesn't sit well with all "real" Muslims here, which led to the Muslim Brotherhood uprising in the 1970s and '80s that was brutally suppressed by the artillery bombardment of the city of Hama.
If there really is a religious revival of sorts going on in Syria, and the leadership is from a minority sect whose Muslimness is suspect, and secular to boot, it could be bad news.
I always think of Learned Hand's comment on the spirit of liberty being that spirit which is not too sure it is right. The problem with fundamentalists is that they are too sure they're right. While democracy might be nice, continued secularism might be even more important for the future of Syria.
Showing posts with label Latakia. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Latakia. Show all posts
06 June 2008
04 June 2008
Latakia
It's 99 degrees centigrade in Latakia, or at least that's what the coffee vending machine says. It could be referring to the temperature of the coffee, but as it's alternating with the date and time, it seems unlikely. Then again, so does 99 centigrade.
Latakia is distinctly different from Damascus. There are many fewer women wearing the chador, and comparatively few even wearing the headscarf. Many, perhaps most, are wearing short sleeve or sleeveless blouses.
It's worth noting that many women in Syria don't wear the chador, but wear a long, knee-length or below, coat. But whether coat or chador, it's only an outer wrapping, and a glance down at the ankles (a good way to avoid making inappropriate eye contact) often reveals blue jeans or dress slacks, and stylish shoes.
My friend tells me there is something of a religious revival in Syria these days. A great number of mosques have been built in recent years, and more are going up. Another person I met today said all the shops I see along the streets are new (although to the western eye prepared with the framing of teeming third world streets, they look as if they've always been there), and that until about 10 years ago you could only buy clothing in government shops, with, apparently, the standard socialist sense of style. And, of course, Syria is technically a secular country. So I wonder if I am seeing a return to chador, rather than the uninterrupted continuation of a tradition. My friend is concerned about the growing religiosity, and I share that. Hopefully Syria does not become Saudi Arabia.
Secularism is clearly here at work in Latakia, however. In addition to the prevalence of western-clad women, I am sitting in a three story internet cafe, where so far I have heard no Arabic music, but have heard such western classics as Hotel California, the James Bond theme, the theme from Dr. Zhivago, and the theme from For a Few Dollars More, and the theme from, I believe, Pale Rider.
To top it off, a previous user of this computer was viewing some hard-core gay porn sites. The government of Syria isn't that secular, and homosexuality is frowned upon. But either the sites aren't required to be blocked, or nobody is enforcing the ban vigorously, because this is the second time I have noticed that on a computer I've accessed. In keeping with Syria's short period of control by France, vive le queers.
gay porn
Latakia is distinctly different from Damascus. There are many fewer women wearing the chador, and comparatively few even wearing the headscarf. Many, perhaps most, are wearing short sleeve or sleeveless blouses.
It's worth noting that many women in Syria don't wear the chador, but wear a long, knee-length or below, coat. But whether coat or chador, it's only an outer wrapping, and a glance down at the ankles (a good way to avoid making inappropriate eye contact) often reveals blue jeans or dress slacks, and stylish shoes.
My friend tells me there is something of a religious revival in Syria these days. A great number of mosques have been built in recent years, and more are going up. Another person I met today said all the shops I see along the streets are new (although to the western eye prepared with the framing of teeming third world streets, they look as if they've always been there), and that until about 10 years ago you could only buy clothing in government shops, with, apparently, the standard socialist sense of style. And, of course, Syria is technically a secular country. So I wonder if I am seeing a return to chador, rather than the uninterrupted continuation of a tradition. My friend is concerned about the growing religiosity, and I share that. Hopefully Syria does not become Saudi Arabia.
Secularism is clearly here at work in Latakia, however. In addition to the prevalence of western-clad women, I am sitting in a three story internet cafe, where so far I have heard no Arabic music, but have heard such western classics as Hotel California, the James Bond theme, the theme from Dr. Zhivago, and the theme from For a Few Dollars More, and the theme from, I believe, Pale Rider.
To top it off, a previous user of this computer was viewing some hard-core gay porn sites. The government of Syria isn't that secular, and homosexuality is frowned upon. But either the sites aren't required to be blocked, or nobody is enforcing the ban vigorously, because this is the second time I have noticed that on a computer I've accessed. In keeping with Syria's short period of control by France, vive le queers.
gay porn
Bus Trip to Latakia
Travelled by bus today to Latakia, on the Mediterranean, and Syria's largest port. The clerk at the hotel told me to take a taxi to Bilal Square, and catch the bus that runs every half hour, at a cost of about 40 Syrian Pounts (about 87 cents). As usual, the taxi driver didn't understand my attempts to pronounce my destination, but when he understood I wanted to go to Latakia, he took me to a bus station that I think is nowhere near the one I was initially directed to. I was completely lost when he dropped me off, but was pointed toward a building where I had to go through security. I placed my bag on the conveyor belt, and walked through the scanner, setting it off. But the police were lounging around, and I wasn't the only one setting off the scanner, so apparently they're not really worried about terrorists on their intercity buses.
Through security, I found myself on a lane with food shops and, for lack of a better word, travel agencies, each calling out for business. Again, someone directed me to a place selling tickets to Latakia. After I had bought my ticket, I heard the hawkers of other agencies yelling, "Latakia." My general impression is that I was initially directed toward the government bus line, but instead was taken to a place with competing bus companies--presumably one of the developments of the last decade's economic liberalization. It cost 250, rather than 40, pounds, but the bus was a very new motorcoach, and on the ride they give you coffee, water, a taffy-like candy, and a newspaper, all served by an attendant who keeps checking to see if you want refills. So for 5 1/2 bucks American, I call it a good deal. This was no third world bus ride, with people clinging to the top and holding chickens in their lap while the bus constantly threatens to go off the edge of the mountain. In fact the driver was the most cautious I've seen yet in Syria--I think he was actually maintaining the speed limit, and I can only attribute that to the market at work.
My seat companion, who exhibited the usual Syrian hospitality by directing me to the loading zone, which I never would have found by myself, is a teacher in Latakia. He gave me his phone number and asked me to call him in two days. He had actually invited me to his house instead of a hotel, before remembering he had to go out of town tomorrow.
This is a great place, and looks to me as though it is in the beginning stages of tremendous economic development. Now if I can just put in effort to learn the language, I'll be in great shape here.
Through security, I found myself on a lane with food shops and, for lack of a better word, travel agencies, each calling out for business. Again, someone directed me to a place selling tickets to Latakia. After I had bought my ticket, I heard the hawkers of other agencies yelling, "Latakia." My general impression is that I was initially directed toward the government bus line, but instead was taken to a place with competing bus companies--presumably one of the developments of the last decade's economic liberalization. It cost 250, rather than 40, pounds, but the bus was a very new motorcoach, and on the ride they give you coffee, water, a taffy-like candy, and a newspaper, all served by an attendant who keeps checking to see if you want refills. So for 5 1/2 bucks American, I call it a good deal. This was no third world bus ride, with people clinging to the top and holding chickens in their lap while the bus constantly threatens to go off the edge of the mountain. In fact the driver was the most cautious I've seen yet in Syria--I think he was actually maintaining the speed limit, and I can only attribute that to the market at work.
My seat companion, who exhibited the usual Syrian hospitality by directing me to the loading zone, which I never would have found by myself, is a teacher in Latakia. He gave me his phone number and asked me to call him in two days. He had actually invited me to his house instead of a hotel, before remembering he had to go out of town tomorrow.
This is a great place, and looks to me as though it is in the beginning stages of tremendous economic development. Now if I can just put in effort to learn the language, I'll be in great shape here.
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