Daily Life Damascus 4 of 4

If you look closely in the bottom right hand corner there is a pair of nesting birds. My hostess says each year the nest is occupied. I took the photo from her balcony holding the camera at an angle to catch the wide sill where she has plants that shelter the future family.



The parts of a Damascus stay I enjoy the most are the daily life. Whether it is breakfast of olives, tabuli, veggies, cheeses, pita, tea or sitting around eating seeds and sipping hot maté through silver straws, nibbling seeds and chatting with neighbours most of whom I've met before, it is the time with people that make these trips so worthwhile.
It is the special dinner with Riaz (spelled 100% wrong) while a peach fluffy kitten meowed at my feet. (I did share)some of the seasoned meat in pita and cut into strips. He is one of those people I say have peelability, that no matter how long you know them you find new depths.
We ate near the tower where St. Paul escaped, and Riaz filled me in on the excavations that had been done since my last trip and told how they city was now using the old Roman piping system they'd found under the many layers that have accumulated over the centuries. Only later did I find out that he and my other friends used to patronize the owner when he had a restaurant in a different part of the city.
I'd met him years before on an earlier trip when he arranged a tour around the country for me. Then on a second trip he helped me visit all the scenes for a future novel going into places in the old city I would never have discovered on my own and told of the history that will make wonderful details in the book. And he visited Geneva and both my housemate and I rated him a five star guest. Our time was limited because he was going out with a group but somehow he managed to show up at the Turkish Air gate for a quick goodbye hug. The next time I see him I want to ask how he got by the multi check points, the paperwork etc. Or maybe I will just wonder.
And I got good quality time with Yara. I first met her at Christmas 1999, which we call the Christmas of the ARAs. We had Llara and Yara the whole period and short stops with Sara and Tara. Nothing like a one-on-one talk in a coffee shop before going back to her house. She has become a wonderful young woman and teaches in Thailand so to have her there was a bonus.
Of course I had a second meal. That day I ended up being invited to five meals while I saw other people from previous visits.
And I met a new friend of my hostess, an artist. We wondered in the old town down an alley to his atelier where he had just bought the spinach, cheese, and thyme pies that were still hot as we talked about the creative processes used in writing and painting.
Then there was a huge family/friends party at a restaurant complete with a singer who sang French, American and Arabic songs. He was a big man with a gray ponytail held with an elastic and a dimple. Some of the people I met for the first time were surprised I liked Arabic music, saying most foreigners don't, but I do enjoy it even if I didn't recognize the songs the same way I know Joe Dassin's or Frank Sinatra's.
And there was the trip up the mountain with Osama, another person I'd met in Geneva who was hometo visit his family.
And of course my host family, the family of my former neighbour who make me almost feel as if I am a family member-I am still not allowed to wash dishes but I can take them to the kitchen and I can restore the couches from beds in the morning so there is progres. We've done things together in Geneva and Damascus in the visits in both directions. If there is a limit to their warmth, I have yet to discover it.
And lastly...if I ever build a new bathroom, I will install the Damascean toilet system with the hose for washing bodily parts just utilized then patted dry with minimum use of toilet paper deposited in a special container. Maybe I won't go so far as the special container and will stick with the flush system, but I do like the hose idea.