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| Citadel of Aleppo |
Before taking the trip I spent few months studying the language improving slightly my Arabic level.
I already could speak some Arabic, I'd had been to many Arab and Islamic countries before. But I felt more was needed since I had heard lots of NWO social media propaganda.
What I found was quite different.
Syria’s attractions are more appealing than the appalling political clichés/demonization we hear all the time via mass media.
And there is a comfort zone. Syria is actually quite comfortable.
With some regret I had to put aside many of the survival skills I had learnt elsewhere on other less traveled roads. They were not needed.
But the country is intimidating for the best reasons. The place is beautiful. It actually affected my photography.
I would hesitate to click the photo. It was already perfect without shooting. It did not have to be spoiled. This is not good for a photographer because at the end of the day one takes no pictures.
I started my trip to Syria with great expectations. For once, they were all met; the landscapes, the culture and more importantly the cordiality and the hospitality of Syrian people are unmatched.
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| Palmyra Castle |
In the attempt to overcome the western media propaganda that constantly provide us with false reports underestimating the popularity of Bashar (here a more objective article - in Italian), I want to share few episodes.
The headline should be, “Syria: a dictatorship?”
The headline should be, “Syria: a dictatorship?”
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| A wall in Damascus displaying posters of Bashar al-Assad |
Compared to the US robotic society where torn smiles and second-hand small talks have a high level of toxicity especially when they go between the lines of DOs & DON'Ts, in Syria I could experience the compassionate flexibility of thinking beings and that was something that I had forgotten coming from the dehumanized society of America where a phone conversation with a technical support can make me go in tilt for the rest of the day.
My flight to Syria had one stop and transfer in Jordan; it was JFK-Amman-Damascus but the flight Amman-Damascus was canceled and postponed by 12 hours. I rested few hours in the airport hotel and at 4 am I was back on track. The new flight was going to Aleppo and then to Damascus. While we were flying over Damascus the pilot informed us that because of fog he would make two landing attempts before considering flying back to Aleppo.
Later on we all smiled and expressed some relief to the “back to Aleppo - Inshallah” notice. The anxiety was over!
It was January 10, 2011; Tunis’ riots had just started but this is a different chapter and I will skip the matter of a conversation I had with a Tunisian man during this flight.
At Aleppo airport we were informed that we had to wait at least 4 hours before flying again to Damascus.
I was overwhelmed by the predictable news and asked about the possibility to check out in Aleppo.
The reply was, “…but Damascus is far away from here. How are you getting there?” I said, “It doesn’t matter, I will start my trip from north and will move south slowly by land.” They asked me to wait for few minutes while checking if they could fulfill my request. Few minutes later I could see aircraft attendants downloading luggage from the plane.
Later on we all smiled and expressed some relief to the “back to Aleppo - Inshallah” notice. The anxiety was over!
It was January 10, 2011; Tunis’ riots had just started but this is a different chapter and I will skip the matter of a conversation I had with a Tunisian man during this flight.
At Aleppo airport we were informed that we had to wait at least 4 hours before flying again to Damascus.
I was overwhelmed by the predictable news and asked about the possibility to check out in Aleppo.
The reply was, “…but Damascus is far away from here. How are you getting there?” I said, “It doesn’t matter, I will start my trip from north and will move south slowly by land.” They asked me to wait for few minutes while checking if they could fulfill my request. Few minutes later I could see aircraft attendants downloading luggage from the plane.
Later on they called me and asked me if I could identify my belonging.
I couldn’t believe… they had disembarked all luggage to find my bag!
My checkout generated one more problem that was efficiently and compassionately solved by the Syrian authorities; they were not expecting any foreigner in Aleppo therefore the immigration checkpoint was closed and janitors were mopping the floor. Ten minutes later an immigration point was created just for me!
I was in Aleppo, Alhamdulillah!
My checkout generated one more problem that was efficiently and compassionately solved by the Syrian authorities; they were not expecting any foreigner in Aleppo therefore the immigration checkpoint was closed and janitors were mopping the floor. Ten minutes later an immigration point was created just for me!
I was in Aleppo, Alhamdulillah!
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| Citadel of Aleppo |
My in-transit experience was just a small sample of what I could further learn.
Syrians are very humans, they behave like humans they work like humans and they think like humans! What I mean with “human” is that people there are real and they have no fear to act following their guts rather than the strict rules; they do not obey the orders as a dictatorship would require.
In Aleppo I saw a car driver being stopped by a traffic police for an infraction. The driver shouted loudly at the cop to dispute that infraction! That’s being human being, I thought. The policeman let the driver go on his journey; both behaviors were perfectly human, and very unacceptable from where I come from.
“No strong reasons to demonstrate in Syria - no genuine riots can happen here. There is no misery here and overall there is decency of life among happy, peaceful and secular people. I saw only three beggars in a month. There is freedom of religion and the president, contrarily from his father, is well loved by the Syrians.” This was the jest of what I was writing to family and friends in Italy and New York while traveling in Syria.
“No strong reasons to demonstrate in Syria - no genuine riots can happen here. There is no misery here and overall there is decency of life among happy, peaceful and secular people. I saw only three beggars in a month. There is freedom of religion and the president, contrarily from his father, is well loved by the Syrians.” This was the jest of what I was writing to family and friends in Italy and New York while traveling in Syria.
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| Dancers at Narcissus House, Old City, Damascus |
I was also sending notes about my experience with Syrian authorities. Police stopped me twice indeed and they had good reasons for it, however their mannered way made it both times a pleasant experience.
The first time it happened because I had sneaked inside a governmental factory and there I was photographing workers and machines in actions.
My quest for factories came after realizing that Syria has a good slice of its economy based on industry and that its GDP growth rate is almost double than America’s.
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| Headline: Obama wants a change |
Thinking also about the just starting riots fueled by “facebook” / wikileaks /CNN & all Mainstream Media and thinking about the “directions” of the global economy and the new upcoming role of the old IMF I thought that documenting Syrian factories could have had some artistic relevance because sooner than expected they could be part of the past.
I was somewhere in the outskirt of Aleppo. A taxi driver had just dropped me there obliging my generic request for “industrial area, please.”
I started to take photo of the landscape around the factory knowing that soon
children would flock after me demanding for photos
while knowing that soon workers would stick out of the factory to “rescue” me for a chai.
It was a well-known script that my imagination was directing without surprise until something happened.
I spent nearly 20 minutes taking photos inside the factory.
“My” factory produces vegetable oil from cottonseeds and in the process uses 50 years old machinery, nearly my same age, I thought.
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| الشهباء Vegetable Oil |
The factory manager must have heard about the foreigner-taking pictures and wanted to meet me. He sent a worker to take me to his office.
The manager asked me to show my passport and while eye-scanning it he manifested some perplexity with the “mushkila” sound, Arabic for “problem”. My visa stamps were definitely an issue for him. Having been in country like Afghanistan, Pakistan, Sudan must have meant that I was either a terrorist or a Mossad. My passport inspired him to call the secret police to double check on my identity. My Arabic skills were one-more evidence of my deceptive state but I was relaxed. I knew I was an intruder but all I had to do was to express my sincere intentions.
He wanted to see and eventually delete the photos from my camera. While going to his office I had put my second Canon away from the sight, in my bag, saving its images from the bin.
I was offered tea and cigarettes. The party went on. Three gentlemen in plain clothes arrived and questioned me. My passport was Xerox copied many times and eventually the police filed my case. They let me go. I thanked the manager for not having turned my passport into vegetable oil, to which line he laughed while shaking my hand.
Many hours later at 9 pm someone knocked at my hotel’s door. “Would you mind to follow us?” I was stopped for the second time.
Two secret policemen drove me to the Aleppo’s police headquarter where a high rank officer and an interpreter were waiting for me.
I was offered coffee and cigarettes in a very cordial atmosphere. The officer seemed pleased to meet me and had only one question... “Have you ever been to Israel?
He wanted to see and eventually delete the photos from my camera. While going to his office I had put my second Canon away from the sight, in my bag, saving its images from the bin.
I was offered tea and cigarettes. The party went on. Three gentlemen in plain clothes arrived and questioned me. My passport was Xerox copied many times and eventually the police filed my case. They let me go. I thanked the manager for not having turned my passport into vegetable oil, to which line he laughed while shaking my hand.
Many hours later at 9 pm someone knocked at my hotel’s door. “Would you mind to follow us?” I was stopped for the second time.
Two secret policemen drove me to the Aleppo’s police headquarter where a high rank officer and an interpreter were waiting for me.
I was offered coffee and cigarettes in a very cordial atmosphere. The officer seemed pleased to meet me and had only one question... “Have you ever been to Israel?
In one instant I recollected that I had checked “No” on the Syrian immigration form (and that "no" was a requirement to get the visa) but that on my website I display a folder titled “Palestine”.
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| In the Old City, Damascus |
I said, “I’ve never been to Israel. I went to Palestine in 1994 and spent there three months. I have always felt the Palestinian condition as one of the biggest injustice on earth.” I was very sincere.
The policeman became even more jovial. He said, “We wanted to meet you for two reasons. We like to know if you need any help from us and also we like to give you a gift.”
The policeman became even more jovial. He said, “We wanted to meet you for two reasons. We like to know if you need any help from us and also we like to give you a gift.”
An attendant in perfect timing entered the office. He was carrying a bag that was soon handled to me. It contained two boxes of body care products. I smiled and thanked him.I was driven back to my hotel.
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| The Clock Tower, Aleppo |
In the light of current events (March 2011) where peaceful demonstrations got infiltrated by foreign elements I totally understand their suspicious way… never trust any stranger.
I met other foreigners who also got stopped by the Syrian police and they were all impressed by the kindness in which they were treated.
A couple of Syrians confirmed to have received the same treatment when they got stopped years before.
Days passed by and by January 25 I was in Damascus where televisions in public areas were synchronized on Tahrir Square.
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| Street Scene near Bab Antakya, Aleppo |
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| Pizza shop in Damascus |
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| Damascus |
I had satellite TV in my room in Damascus
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| Mount Qassioun (Jebal Kasioun), Damascus |
although I choose not to have cable TV in my home in NY.
Out of curiosity I got tempted to check out from the exotic Damascus the “revolts” on CNN.
Breaking news said that two days of riots were planned in Damascus for Friday and Saturday, Feb 4 and 5.
The report was false and contradictory and in a gibberish way… “No Internet in Syria and that's why there are no riots … Syrians on facebook are organizing demonstrations for Fri and Sat.”
I went to check out the “protests”. According to CNN they were supposed to be outside the parliament; there I found ZERO demonstrators.
My inner call for Egypt was getting stronger
but it was hard to leave the charming Damascus.
The report was false and contradictory and in a gibberish way… “No Internet in Syria and that's why there are no riots … Syrians on facebook are organizing demonstrations for Fri and Sat.”
I went to check out the “protests”. According to CNN they were supposed to be outside the parliament; there I found ZERO demonstrators.
My inner call for Egypt was getting stronger
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| Tahrir Square, Cairo |
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| Omayyad Mosque, Damascus |
On February 7 I flied to Cairo and at Damascus’ airport a security woman gave me one more sample of that beautiful human flexibility.
I was at the embarking gate and she discovered that I had a cigarette lighter in my carry-on bag.
She said, “This is forbidden on the flight. I should take it away!” Then she looked at me with complicity and while patting on my arm she said, “Don’t worry.” She put the lighter back where it was.
It came to my mind that one month earlier a similar lighter was taken away from me at JFK while boarding on Royal Jordanian flight. I was on my way to Amman.
On that flight the dinner was served with sharp steel fork and knife… “Hmmm, the usual double standard”, I thought, “If I had tried to carry a tiny knife, the airport security would have taken it away from me, as they did with my lighter.”
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| On board of Royal Jordanian Flight |
……………
Just like forbidding smoking cigarettes in a NYC street where cars are blowing nitrogen & carbon dioxide from their exhaust pipes.
…………….
Please absolutely no social networking invitations, period!
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