Confessions of Damascus, between arak and mafa3oul bihi.

End of year school again and, around this time last year, I wrote rapport de séjour for Sciences Po, as a university requirement. Finished this thing two days before I left the country. Rereading this and reminiscing, and wondering how far the country has changed. How are my friends hanging there? I am glad to see my freshest sentiments at the point of departure, to which I still largely agree with. 

The experiences mentioned are by no means exhaustive, because far too much has happened. Like, for example, that one night in Jaramana. But tell you that, later, maybe.

Why Damascus for Arabic?

I’m in Damascus to improve my knowledge of Arabic, many would say.

Answering a question that has been asked a thousand times turns out to be much harder than one imagines. Since I hate repeating the same parole like a parrot, I try to come up with a different answer each time, adjusted to different personalities, or different occasions, or different social settings. Reality of course is not that simple – to come up with a thousand answers requries an immense amount of creativity, but the calming effect of Narguileh has simply killed any of such creativity.

When asked why I am here in Damascus, my mind just shuts, and I try to get over this routine of conversation starter. Reducing your reason for being in Syria to “wanting to improve Arabic” may sound dull and repetitive. But it was indeed, in my case, somewhat the truth. Reality, of course, was more complex.

My first choice for Third Year Abroad was actually Université Saint Joseph in Beirut. But after paying a brief visit to Lebanon April 2010, I felt that USJ was not really my cup of tea. Another year of university of courses in a French system? At that point I was thinking, how did I even choose USJ in the first place? Perhaps it was also Beirut, an expensive city that we call mini-Europe, and where one could haramize oneself. Fun, it would have been, but coming from Hong Kong, an even bigger cosmopolitan city, Beirut was not what I needed for an entire year.

What became the next logical choice? My head was clueless. Telling Mr. Linden about my doubts for Beirut, and about my wishes of improving Arabic, he suggested monthly Arabic courses in University of Damascus.

Thus the question for my choice of Damascus is not why, but why not. Why not stay in a country famous for its mukhabarat (secret police), badly disguised in leather jackets hanging around every corner? Why not spend a year eating delicious mezzehs? Why not spend a year in a university taking only language classes 9-1 daily and have rest of the afternoon free? Why not spend a year chilling in a reportedly very beautiful and culturally rich country? Why not enjoy Syrian hospitalitiy that is mentioned as a Middle Eastern highlight even in Lonely Planet?

As for why I want to learn Arabic, to this day I still have not the slightest clue. I can certainly give you the official line of many other rapports de séjour – that we chose Menton campus because we loved or were interested in the Middle East, and thus coming to the Middle East to improve Arabic was a logical choice. O yea, it somehow fits into my parcours professionel as well.

I feel that any reason I give you for learning Arabic will not be completely honest. For personal ego, for your CV, for opening yourself up to a new world, for being able to appreciate a beautiful language – all those were plausible. In the end, what matters is that you have left your footprints here, gave your best shot at learning the language, shared the bittersweet moments of memorizing the rules of mafa3oul bihi (object), and eventually moved on with life.

University of Damascus

The Higher Language Institute of University of Damascus is world-renowned for its Arabic learning program, and we from Sciences Po were honored to be part of it. It is the first year in history when an accord was signed between the two institutions. The accord, although officially affiliated to the Department of International Relations of University of Damascus, actually allowed us to take Arabic classes at the Language Institute, a place we affectionately call the mahd. Strictly speaking, these were not university-level courses, but purely language courses open for all who were willing to pay. We were, of course, exempt from the 18000 Syrian Liras tuition fees, great relief to our budget.

Registration

No one in Syria can be spared from administrative bureaucracy, at a level comparable to France. The registration process for courses involves a tour around the city to get the appropriate papers; perhaps a good lesson of self orientation. Among the many papers needed are an aids test result, a paper from your proper embassy approving your studies at the university, several photos, and photocopy of passport.

Located in Zabadani, not far from the old city, the AIDS test center is shabby building with a narrow corridor and a few laboratories. Inside the laboratories there are several medical personnel, constantly in conversation, messing with samples of blood. Often the place is filled with foreigners wishing to obtain their residence permits. In order to perform this test for free, you must first obtain a paper from the University of Damascus. I took a ticket at the entrance, wait inside the center which is crowded with people, and waited for my turn. For someone who just arrived to the country, barely speaking a word of Syrian dialect, helplessness was the only feeling. In retrospect, given the environment, I was skeptical of having a needle stuck in me, in fears of being passed on something I did not have. But it had to be done.

All new entrants to the Arabic classes are required to take a placement test in order to be correctly placed at the appropriate level – Level 1 being the lowest, and Level 8 being the highest. Placement tests are organized in five parts – writing, grammar, listening, reading comprehension, and oral – the criteria they use to assess students. The method was simple – a test of Level 8 was given to all, and each student was placed at a level depending on how many answers one got wrong. After two years of Arabic in Menton, I was still shell-shocked. The majority who came to Damascus had a low level to start with, and at the middle of the test everyone started laughing, perhaps a gesture to hide the feeling of helplessness.

The Monthly Festive Arabic fosha Courses

A common pick up line in Damascus is: “Hey have you done your Arabic homework?”

A joke it is, of course. But a large proportion, if not the majority, of foreigners in Damascus were in fact studying Arabic. And quite a big part within them study in the University.

The classes were organized as such. For levels 1-6, there were four hours of class per day, from 9am to 1pm, Sunday to Thursday. Each student was provided with a book, with texts and exercises written by teachers at the university. Within the four hours per day, each hour would be dedicated to a different skill, for example it could be two hours of reading and comprehension, one hour of listening, and one hour of grammar. Teachers are obliged to provide the weekly schedule of what would be done in each hour. There was a written test every week, normally composed of “completing the blanks” exercises and a writing session. At the end of the month there would be a final exam of all the skills required. One must pass with 65% in order to progress to the next level, and must not have more than four days, or 16 hours of absences. Between each monthly session, there would usually be a week break, where studnets utilize to travel and do other activities.

So this was the basic structure of the courses. The adminstration normally ensures that each students change teachers after every level. If a student is unhappy for a certain teacher, there is the possibility of changing at the start of the course. If one does not feel comfortable, he/she may demand to stay at the level for another month as well.

As mentioned above, Levels 1-6 comprise of books and exercises designed by teachers at the university. Reading comprehension is emphasized, and hence memorization of vocabulary, as this is often the most essential part of the language that permits a student to siginificantly improve his/her understanding abilities. Contents of the texts vary. At lower levels, general topics revolve around Arab or Syrian history, or life of a student in Syria, customs, food, or how to order a coffee etc. Once we hit Intermediate level, i.e. Level 4-6, there would be other specific topics incorporated that would permit more profound discussions and thus more sophisticated utilization of the language and expression of more abstract concepts. Certain examples of topics include pollution, Arab heritage, problem of unemployment, Syrian univeristy education, sex change, media, etc.

Other skills are made more difficult according to the level. Listening exercises tend to be the hardest, as the texts are often read in a very quick manner, and bound to contain a few words not previously learned. From Level 4 on, there are daily sessions when the teachers ask students to present the news of that day, as well as student presentations on certain topics. Speaking is a skill that really depends largely on the student’s initiative. A class generally has 10-15 students, but teachers do make an effort to encourage each student to speak, which somewhat minimizes student-teacher interaction. However, if a student is willing to participate, he has many opportunities to do so. As for grammar, hardly anyone likes it, and often it is rigorous that requires some time to explain.

At advanced levels, i.e. Levels 7-8, teachers are somewhat freer in what they want to teach. The five language skills are still required, but there is no longer a curriculum to follow. Texts are taken from different magazines or journals, while listening exercises are often news extracts from Al-Jazeera. Press reviews involve actually reading newspaper and summarization. Vocabulary at this point is no longer limited to what is provided by the teachers, but acquired from all means possible. The more vocabulary one had, the more advantages there was as it was a proof of high language ability. On top of this, there was also a 1500 word essay required at the end of the course, as well as reading of an extract of short story, and a presentation of it.

Student life

Level 3, aka Higher Beginner’s Level, was a festive first month for me. After about two days of getting to know each other, we became one big family. Students varied from all ages, all nationalities, and all professions. There was a middle-aged British lawyer who lived in Qatar; several Italian university students; a Belgian man, always checking out girls, whose real occupation was obscure; a British Muslim of Indian origins, 2pac lover, studying Islamic law – and the list goes on. It was certainly not my first time in an international environment as such, but there was something subtle about such varied personalities all gathered temporarily in this classroom, sharing a short-lived common goal. A big melting pot it was.

We bonded particularly well. Most of us, just freshly arrived, were just enjoying the positive side of cultural shock. After classes, we would go to the university café to memorize vocabulary and grammtical rules. Such study sessions were very much enjoyable. It was not so much for language learning, but more about the bonding moments we shared. We also had regular dinners and parties together, and even a diner de conference with our teacher. At the end of the month, most were not ready to leave, but life goes on. Some returned to their real lives, and for those who stayed, not all were reunited in the same class.

As we progressed towards the higher levels, the atmosphere was somewhat changing. Bonding moments were still shared, friendships still made, but the big family feeling was no longer existent. Generally this was because people in higher levels have been in the university for an extended period of time, and thus have already settled with a certain group of friends or a certain type of lifestyle.

Breaks between each hour of class are worth a mention as well, as these 10-15 minutes were often longed for. This was understandable given the nature of the Arabic courses, which could get somewhat dry and tiring at a point. Students at this time either stay in class, or go out and have a cigarette, or even a little snack. It was a time when you could really breathe and allow your mind to refresh a little.

There are other ways of student bonding. Some students, wanting to improve speaking skills, organized weekly fosha circles, where they gathered a group of students to exchange conversations in fosha. Some would hang around in the university area everyday, doing language exchange with Syrian students. Although they save costs, they are not always effective and efficient, as one needs to spend one hour on each language. It was perhaps better to make Syrian friends and hang out with them.

Other projects

Classes ran from 9-1. I enjoyed that afternoon freedom initially, where I did common revision sessions of Arabic, and generally “hung out” with friends. But this was no longer satisfying by the third week. Here I quote my roommate Antoine Alhéritière:

“It is not noble to spend a whole year to just learn a langauge. No! You learn a language and do other things!”

Very true. Classes from 9-1 precisely offer you the whole afternoon, thus flexibility to achieve other goals you might have in Syria. While the goal of learning Arabic must not be forgotten, various opportunities are offered in Damascus, as long as you keep your eyes open.

So the hunt for jobs began. There were several options – I wanted for an NGO or the UN, but also wanted to earn some cash on the side. The ideal would have been tutoring on the side, having an NGO internship in afternoons. Life, of course, never turns out exactly the way you want it to be, and so one’s plans change along the way.

Teaching English

It was to my surprise that on the weekend of my birthday, through different contacts, I found an English teaching job in a big international education franchise. Before this, I have gained knowledge about various language institutes, namely Berlitz and other smaller ones. American Language Center was a particularly funny case. Returns would have been great, around 800 Syrian Pounds per hour; going market rate for language tutoring was 500. The application form consisted of a series of questions about personal information and motivation as such. But on the last page, there were a series of 40 questions revolving around the following theme: “Have you ever in your life participated in any organization that aims to overthrow the American government?” Fear of spies, even in Syria. One could not help but laugh.

When carrying out an interview, I was not too aware of what I was getting into. In retrospect, I could sense high expectations from their teachers, but I pulled off the interview all right. Due to time constraints of Arabic classes, I was assigned a class of Level 3A, somewhat equivalent to early intermediate, in the afternoons, three days a week. Course material was provided, but the challenge lay in the method of teaching. Unlike traditional education in Syria, this institute emphasized on interactions, using different methods of class control to teach English in a lively environment. To achieve this, class planning is essential, as is control of time and creativity of activities. There were about 20 students in class, which increased the difficulty. I fared well at the beginning in bringing in different activities, but was not too successful in class control of discipline.

This experience pretty much buried any further ambitions of English teaching. It simply was not my thing.

Article writing

Lack of course planning in the English teaching institute was not coincidental. At the later stages of that job, I received an offer to write for a a lifestyle magazine published in Hong Kong. By this time the Arab world was in full blown revolution, and the world was watching. My first ever published article was about Tunisia, analyzing how it was a corrupt dictatorship coated in democracy, and gave prospects of future. Albeit time consuming, it was a thoroughly enjoyable experience, especially writing about the Middle East in a Middle Eastern setting. Another article I worked on was 7 page translation from Chinese to English. To continue the tradition, I am currently working on another article for the same magazine, on the current situation in Syria.

It is worth mentioning that if one wishes, different English publications in Syria, namely Syria Today, Baladna and Forward, accept freelancing articles. If you have a good idea, propose them to the editors of these publications and you have a chance of getting it published! Pay for the articles depend on length of the article and publisher. A feature article in Forward, for example, is rewarded with roughly 4000 Syrian Liras. Working an internship for these publishers is impossible as they only hire Syrian interns.

Short-lived internship at the Syria Trust for Development

While writing articles, and focusing more on Arabic learning given the increasing difficulty of the course, I was actively looking for internships in various agencies of the UN. Finding internships in Damascus is an interesting experience. Sending your CV and cover letter to the organization’s email does not generally work. Often a follow-up phone call would be helpful. Even more helpful was to go straight to the organization and say “I want a job,” which was practially what I did.

It was unfortunate that Syria was now affected by internal political situation. UNDP decided to supend their internship program for an indefinite period. Other UN agencies were to follow suit. The only option left was the Syria Trust for Development. After an interview, I was taken as an intern in the Shabab project. The Syria Trust for Development was officially under the leadership of First Lady Asma Al-Assad. It is no surprise that the public is in doubt on how non-governmental this organization is. But employees in Shabab told me that a lot of fund raising was independently run, and this was how they wanted to present themselves to the public. But even I was later in doubt about this, as I discovered later a major sponsor for Shabab was MTN, a telecommunications company owned by a member of the Assad family.

Unemployment rate in Syria is high, especially among youth. Many fresh graduates aim for public sector jobs, as welfare and benefits are good, and until 2005, still offered a higher minimum wage than private sector jobs by law. It was also a long bureaucratic process to fire an employee in a private sector job, which prevented many private enterprises from hiring.

Faced with this situation, which hinders efforts of economic reform since 2000, Shabab runs several programs aimed at promoting entrepreneurship amongst Syrian youth. Business Awareness, for example, is a workshop about business that Shabab runs in secondary schools. Another one, named Business Clinic, has instructors teaching students how to write CVs and cover letters.

My internship was meant to last for around a month, until I left Syria. However, due to the situation and Sciences Po’s decision to send us away, I was only able to complete two weeks of the internship. Through documents I read during the internship, I was familiarized with Syrian economy. Observations in the organization allowed me to also understand briefly how an NGO was run. My assigned main tasks were to help plan the training program for the trainers, and for this I attended a training, noting down my observations. Unfortunately at the end of this I had to leave Syria, so my final assignment was to write up a report on my observations, done outside of the country.

Comparison with Sciences Po

A comparison between teaching methods and quality of teachers between Sciences Po and University of Damascus is difficult, because, quite frankly, there is not much comparison. In Damascus we were taking solely an intensive language course, nothing affiliated to university level courses. However, a few points could still be made.

Language courses can, for example, be compared to language courses at Sciences Po. In Damascus the curriculum is followed much more strictly, and there is clear guideline on what a student needs to know after each level. It is quite a clear cut on who could move on to the next level, which is depended on the overall performance of the student; participation, attendance, homework, tests, exams, etc. Pass or fail, no questions asked. By comparison, Sciences Po has clear problems of determining which students are at which level. Niveau 2 moyen faible of a language really cannot indicate anything. The charte des langues is so vague that the teacher has a lot of flexibility to plan course material, based on their interpretations of what each level should consist of. But the lack of structure and organization of language policy at Sciences Po leads to many inconsistencies which often confuse students. During my studies of Arabic in Menton, I changed from Manuel Moderne Arabe to Al-Kitaab, and then back to Manuel and then once again back to Al-Kitaab. Certainly, one may argue that Sciences Po is not specialized in teaching languages, but it does stress multilingual abilities of students. The system at the Language Institute in Damascus might be arbitrary, but it somehow gets the job done.

In terms of pedagogical methods, they are similar, both rather student centered. Basic structure does not change – one teacher leads several students, although in Damascus classes were often bigger. Student participation is often encouraged. The different key skills are all treated in similar manners, even though at Sciences Po it would be less structured due to the constraints of time. However, at Sciences Po, while learning Arabic, teachers would often speak to students in French. In Damascus, the teacher will only speak in Arabic, even at beginner levels. This is reasonable, as in Damascus, the environment allows full immersement into the Arabic speaking environment, whereas in France, six hours per week of Arabic language teaching has its limits.

As in all subjects taught, the teacher is an important factor in determining whether the course is good. This is the same in Sciences Po and University of Damascus. Certainly, Sciences Po teachers have much more freedom in terms of what they can teach. The Sciences Po language teacher can plan his/her course according to interests. By contrast, in their paroles, teachers in Damascus take an official line of the school, which is really the official line of the Syrian state. Teachers sometimes make proclamations of their love for the president. Such influences are sometimes seen in the contents of the texts. One infamous recurring topic was stereotypes, or al sura al namatiya, of Arabs on the West and of the West on Arabs. The teachers put so much emphasis on it that it eventually became a joke between students outside of class. Common points made in the book are about how the West views Arabs of having less freedom, among many other stereotypes, and the text responds by saying “hey you guys have social problems too!” Students often dread discussion on this topic as it often leads to nowhere.

As for students, both Sciences Po and Language Center in Damascus generally receive dedicated students. It is no surprise. Sciences Po itself is a top class institution where students go through intense competition to get into. The interview process screens out students the school does not see fit. For University of Damascus, most foreigners often have to sacrifice university courses or other precious time to make it all the way to Damascus to learn Arabic, and on top of that paying 300 Euros a month. You had better be dedicated if you are making all that effort. But despite all this, a general observation is that most students who have moved on level by level in University of Damascus generally lose motivation after a while, perhaps due to the rigorous nature of the method of teaching.

There are other comparisons that can be made from information I have heard from students completing their undergraduate degrees at University of Damascus. In the university, for example, once one has chosen a major, there is no possibility to change to another major during the course of one’s studies. This aspect is somewhat comparable to Sciences Po, where, in the premier cycle at least, over the 44 courses that I took, only 3 were elective. In terms of studentship, both universities are somewhat international, as Damascus receives a lot of students from other Arab countries.

However, one thing that Sciences Po does not have is the infiltration of student informers. It is a known fact that as an informer in the university, one would have priority over accomodation, and privileges over many other things. And thus, when there were students from Deraa mourning in campus for the dead about a month ago, it was quickly dispersed by other “pro-regime” students. As a foreigner, you know a Syrian student is up to something when he randomly asks you about your views on political events.

Cultural Learnings of Syria for Make Benefit Glorious Nation of Hong Kong

When confronted with Hong Kong people, they were often perplexed about my choice to go to Syria. Spend a year in a country like that? Why don’t you get your degree in finance and come back to do a proper job?

Life reflection. A buffer between undergraduate and masters. That is what Damascus was about, all along. Being the third place I settled in the past four years, Damascus was essentially a new stop for personal exploration. One sees oneself most clearly when one plunges into a completely foreign environment, far outside of one’s comfort zone. How much forward I’ve moved in life, I do not know, but Damascus does bring a year full of fond memories, and lessons. Since past reports from Damascus have described how to live in the city to great length, I shall not repeat the same message and instead add my own views on things.

The program

Life in Syria revolved around the mahd. Four hours per day of enforced Modern Standard Arabic allowed rapid familiarization with the language. Understanding, listening, and speaking became increasingly effortless, as it was already integrated as part of our lives. The knowledge we learned in school could be reapplied in, for example, Arabic news programs on TV. In other words, we were living the language.

By the end of Level 7, I did feel a sense of siginificant improvement in my level of Arabic. This was gradual, implied and not noticed until I actually reflected. I can now read newspapers without major problems, nevertheless vocabulary remains an obstacle. It was not an easy process, espeically spending a few full days flipping through dictionaries when reading through the short story. On average perhaps for every line I would have to flip through the dictionary three times. But there was some fun involved, especially the satisfaction that comes with the final understanding of the text. Thus, from the point of view of improvement in ability of language, the mahd was extremely beneficial.

One point of regret, however, was that there was no integrated dialect, or ammia courses. Ammia and fosha language was rather different, and I believe that learning both were important as they are required in different occasions. Other university exchange programs, such as SOAS from England and University of Maryland, offer a full package of fosha and ammia classes. If Sciences Po wishes to establish a long term partnership with University of Damascus, the SOAS model could be a reference.

On other benefits of the program; University of Damascus provides a great opportunity create a network of people from all over the world and hear what they have to talk about. As mentioned above, reasons to learn Arabic are extremely diverse, but these people are often interested in the region. During the unrest in Syria this year, for example, this proved useful. Since little was known from the media, foreigners would often spend 60% of the time talking about the situation, and such exchange filled in the knowledge gap.

It is worth mentioning is that what I got out of the classes at the mahd were actually quite limited to language skills. Intellectually there was virtually nothing worth learning from the classes. This is perhaps the major reason why classes became dull after a while. Other general knowledge that I wished to obtain about the culture must be done outside of class, from day to day life in Syria.

The beautiful people

Beautiful people Syrians were. Very rarely can one nowadays feel such warm hospitality from a people. Stories of such were heard over and over again. I went on a microbus once with Mike, a friend from the mahd, where he discovered that he lost his iPod. It was nowhere to be found, so out of choices we asked the driver to stop and looked more thoroughly. After stopping a few times, which greatly affected the driver’s working time, instead of scolding us, he invited us to dinner at his house!

If you come to Syria, put down your prejudices, and stop and hear what Syrians have to say. Often you’ll learn a thing or two about them. Being a Chinese in Syria, you gain special attention on the streets. Wherever I pass by, “Ching chang chong” is what I get. Some, namely some Koreans, take this as an offence, but behind this meaningless speech, often they are just curious about others’ cultures.

Encounters with different Syrians from all walks of life give you a bigger picture of what this country is like. Some closer friends tell me about their desire to leave the country, to make a better living. Talk to a few more and you often hear of their ways of evading military service. I know of a friend who pays a substantial amount and goes to military training one day per month, and after two years he completed his military service. In the aforementioned internship in Shabab, I was at a meeting with a bunch of young Syrians, who were very engaged and interested in how they could improve their skills as trainers to benefit others. The Syrians I played basketball with in the Amerian School, who often held dual citizenship, were at times arrogant, and were somewhat detached from reality of their country.

I especially enjoyed spending time chilling in my neighborhood, Muhajirin. Not able to stand the tourist filled old city, the neighborhood at the foothills of Qassioun mountain was a next best resort. My next-door neighbor was an old lady with three daughters, whom I shared casual conversations with. The shopkeeper just around the corner, Anas, is overjoyed everytime he saw me passing by, almost certainly because fo the countless dozens of eggs I bought from him. A little further was Osama, a phone retailer and seller of mobile credits, who invited me to hommos. On the other end of the street was Bilal, a great friend and also internet café owner, who vowed to protect me and Antoine if anything happened in Muhajirin. Abu Steif, right next to him, sold delicious chicken sandwich, and would always offer me an extra piece of falafel with any order. The groceries store owner would always stuff apples or oranges into my hands everytime I passed by. “You’re a student, and we need to help each other out,” he said. Over time, I have developed a great sense of belonging in the neighborhood, felt deeply integrated into the Syrian society. Nothing arbitrary, but a natural blending into every day social life.

Perhaps what is worth mentioning also is the sexually repressed nature of the society. Men can almost at no times have too intimate actions with women publically. And to my speculation, since human contact is hard to be obtained from the opposite sex, this is compensated from more contact with members of the same sex. Do not be surprised when a Syrian friend grabs you by the arm like your girlfriend does. But things could a little more intense. Allow me to bring an anecdote. One night, while waiting for a bus at night, a truck stopped in front of me. The driver started the conversation.

“How to you get to this place?”

“Turn onto this road, get to the end and ask.”

“where do you live? Want a ride home?”

“No thanks, I’ll wait for a bus.”

After asking me further for where I came from, he insisted on bringing me home again.

“Do you like sex?” he asked.

“Hahaha.” Laughing was my only reaction to this awkward moment. He pulls out his phone, starts showing me a porn video.

“I like you. Come on I’ll bring you to Qassioun (the mountain), then I’ll bring you home after an hour!”

“Haha nah thanks.”

“How much do you want?”

A bus arrived at this point and I hopped on.

The bubble

For a student that studies the Middle East, there is no better year to be in the region than 2011. Looking at the situation of North Africa earlier the year, many offered speculations about when Syria would be next. Resilient, it proved to be, at least for a while. And even as things escalated, it occurred in a very gradual manner, given the specificities of the country. It was the perfect application of our textbook knowledge into reality. I would constantly read articles and opinions about the situation, to get a bigger picture of the events.

As a foreigner being in Damascus during such interesting times, I felt like living in a bubble. Western media emphasize unrest, but Al Jazeera, for example, somewhat exaggerates the situation. Syrian state media place themselves on the other extreme, blaming everything on conspirators. We are certain that things are happening in other cities, but not much could be seen in Damascus. Security control was tighter, but the city marched on as usual, very peacefully. On certain Fridays, being defiant to safety orders, I walked around the city to see how it was. It was virtually dead. On one particular Friday, there were even gun shots in the old city. And once we encountered a pro-government mob from the south with bats ready to engage in conflict.

As information flowed in, and as Syrians told stories of their friends or their hometowns being wrecked, you could helplessly sit and listen. Arrests were constantly being made, and from what you hear inside the country, the actual death toll is far, perhaps a few times higher than the reported death toll. Despite this, the general atmosphere, you could sense, was changing. In a country famous for repression, people once again started talking about politics, often publically. “Obstacle of fear is gone,” as a taxi driver told me. A heated debate was heard in taxi one night, about why people came on the streets; one sided with sectarian reasons, and the other blamed social and economic conditions.

It is extremely hard to tell how much support the government enjoys. On the surface, at least in Damascus, there seems to be a lot of support. But I have heard people telling me them being against. How many are expressing support because of fear, and how many because of their true will?

The abrupt end – reacting to the unexpected

It was 4pm on Wednesday May 4^th, when I received a call saying that I had to leave the country, by Friday morning. Odd it was, as just two hours before that I was told that staying was an option. Under Sciences Po contract, I was in no place to disagree.

So faced with this virtually 24 hour notice, I packed in lightning speed, called a quick goodbye dinner the same night, ate my last proper falafel, went to the hammam, and left the country by Friday morning. It was certainly peculiar for Sciences Po to suddenly make a change of opinion, as the situation in Damascus saw no drastic change. There was sufficient reason for us to stay for at least another week, giving us more time plan our departure. But I guess safety reasons are important as well, and I am glad that a university puts the safety of the students first.

Crisis management it was. It was a good experience for quick reaction to unexpected events. What was most essential to you? What could you live without? It is at those moments when these things crystallize. In Chinese, life is often said to be wu chang (无常),which, to put it in a nutshell, means it could change suddenly and drastically any time, and that there is no constant condition that will last. Living through this in Syria was certainly something memorable.

End of Confessions

Choosing Damascus over Beirut was probably the best choice for this third year.

In the words of Eleanor, a friend from university, “learning Arabic is so effortless in Damascus.” We were essentially living the language. Although significant improvements of my knowledge of Arabic could still be made, being able to carry out a decent conversation and appreciate literature and articles was a satisfying achievement.

Lovely encounters; all one needs in any corner of the world. There were late night wanders with the mukhabarat, travels to ruins of countless civilizations, climbing the Qassioun after bottles of arak, and late night battles of backgammon accompanied by Kurdish waitors. And all that was mentioned before. Syria has treated me well.

It is a phase in life, and you have done it. Another tick off your bucket list. Then you continue wandering, continue reflecting what you want in life, because this is definitely not it.