Livin' it up in Aleppo

Aleppo is wonderfully safe and I'm reaping the benefits of being here as a solo traveller - though there are enough students and former students here who haven't been scared off by the news we get abroad.

Yesterday Nicole took me on a short tour to the Citadel, though the local souks packed with people, where I carefully managed to avoid buying the many, many beautiful Aleppo silk dresses, and to a soap factory where they make the famous Aleppo olive oil and laurel soap. They only make it in winter, as the soap won’t set properly in the heat of summer. However, once it’s made they have to dry it – and this takes years, not months. Two year old soap is good for washing clothes, three year old soap is good for washing the hair and body, but five year old soap – which looks so ugly and feels so wonderful on the skin – is the best and the finest and can be used for any purpose. The people who know buy only five year old soap: it’s the crème de la crème so to speak.

We also visited the Shibani School – parts of which date from the 16th century. The building housed a church, a school and a Franciscan convent – calling to mind the legend that St Francis of Assisi visited Aleppo and had a chance meeting here with my old friend Shamsi Tabrizi, which influenced him in later starting the Franciscan order. It’s now owned by the city council and houses a permanent exhibition showing the city’s on-going rehabilitation programme. We sat for a while in its lovely, peaceful courtyard
I wanted to see the 14th century mental hospital, but it’s closed for renovation at present. Never mind, there’s another in Damascus.

Later that afternoon I set off again by myself for the Citadel. Of course, as always, I got myself lost. But the right souk, when I found it, went in a straight line and led straight there. So, after a chance meeting with ‘Sebastian’, a Syrian shopkeeper and poet who’d recently returned home from England, and a lovely coffee and chat in his shop near the Citadel I walked back to the hotel in my usual (i.e. getting lost six times) way, and dropped exhausted into bed.
Today was more of the same. I re-found a wonderful restaurant which I’d discovered on my last journey and this time took careful note of the street and the name. I intended to eat there tonight but, on ascending the stairs to the first floor, found the door closed. (Nicole later told me they eat up on the roof in summer.) No matter, there was a simple restaurant nearby where chargrilled chicken and salad made for a cheaper but equally delicious meal.

Just wandering around Aleppo at random is a great way to soak up the city’s unique atmosphere. It has a style all its own. First, for safety reasons, you notice the cars. You are in the Middle East now: cross the road at your peril! (Nicole told me of a couple who, in Egypt, once took a taxi simply to get across the street.)
The only way to cross is to step boldly out into the flow of oncoming traffic, making eye contact with the driver of the nearest car and expecting him (or her) to stop long enough to let you pass in front of them; and you do this five or more times when crossing a single busy road.
For the more timid traveller the technique is to latch yourself onto someone else who’s crossing – on the side furthest away from the cars, naturally – and use them as a buffer. But I’ve also had drivers, noticing my hesitancy, stop and motion me across. It’s quite an adventure.

Then there are the people. "You’re not in Kurdistan any longer, Dorothy." Aleppo is a big and cosmopolitan city but that doesn’t mean people feel obliged to conform to one dress style. Here, as a matter of course, you see men in dishdashas (the long white Arabian robe) with headscarfs ranging from red-checked keffiahs to pure white cotton, tied in all manner of styles, or in jeans and t-shirts with a range of graphics, or in business suits. The women – old or young – may be wearing anything from an all-enveloping burqa complete with a full-face, gauzy black veil, to cropped jeans and t-shirt – with or without a hijab – or any random mix of clothes in-between.
But you can’t make simple assumptions from the way someone dresses. Several times after dark I’ve seen solo women swathed in black from head to toe walking alone on the city streets. Nowhere else in the world have I seen lone women dressed in this way – there are always at least two of them, even in London. Which would seem to underline Nicole’s story to me of how safe she feels in Aleppo, even walking home alone at 4.00am. Cars aside, it’s a most delightful city in which to be a pedestrian.

Last night I was invited to a roof party at the hotel – the last one of the summer. Apparently these are a regular feature of life at Al Gawaher. It’s a great way to meet people. Ahmed’s friends – local guys , most of whom speak pretty good English– come along, each with their bottle of tequila, vodka or coca cola depending on their inclination, and make merry from about 10.00pm until the small hours, dancing to the latest Aleppo pop and traditional music blasted out at volume from Ahmed’s sound system. One of the current hits features the 'silly sayings' of Ghadaffi and everyone is laughing about it, and him. We sat and talked, or danced, until the small hours and even though there were only four hotel guests we had a great time. It’s just another example of typical Syrian hospitality and a chance to learn more about the Syrian way of life.

Today is Friday and all the souks are closed, though not the shops in the new part of town. I’m off to the National Museum to soak up some of the older Syrian culture. Tomorrow I leave for Damascus – unless, of course, I decide to stay one more day here.

Sounds like you are having a great trip. Who knew this could be possible in Syria right now?

Yes, well - I wouldn't be here at all except for the need to pass from Turkey to Jordan. I'm mad as a hatterr that I can't see all the places I'd marked off to see, but never mind - I'll just have to come back again when the problems are over.

In the meantime, far from spendng Friday couped up in my hotel room as I'd supposed I'd have to, I found wandering round the city yesterday was a dream - so perfectly safe and easy.
I even went to the Citadel, where apparently regular demonstrations (pro-govt) are held after Friday prayer, though I went later in the day. Couldn't have imagined it possible from outside the country.

The tourism industry is really suffering here. There are only five people in my hotel (and two of those are travellers I brought here last night.)

Today I'm off to Damascus.

go_2 wrote "I found wandering round the city yesterday was a dream - so perfectly safe and easy"

When I visited Syria in 2008 I met with a family near Homs. I gently prodded them to tell me about the political situation; they were very wary of expressing any disfavor, but declared that one benefit of the current situation is that everyone felt safe. "We've traded freedom for security," she said.
Lee
p.s. if you're in need of a short diversion, catch my account of a day on a bus with a bunch of quite liberal Muslim women
Hijacked to a Magical Day

Great trip go_2, and great account of the bus ride Lee.

go_2, am I remembering correctly that you are Muslim? If that's true, I'm curious whether you wear identifying clothing or symbols and whether you pass among the population (in Syria and other Muslim countries) essentially unnoticed, or do you get smiles, or frowns, or other acknowledgement?
Lee
(Recognizing that religion and politics are so often flashpoints, I'll understand if you choose to give this question a pass.)

Mmmm- nice blog and lovely trip. But I'm not surprised - Syrian people are wonderful. I sometimes think they'll make up the majoity of the population of heaven.

Yes, Lee, I'm muslim. But I don't think it really makes a difference. People are just nice anyway and most of those I meet don't know I'm muslim. I am wearing a headscarf here, but it's as much to protect my hair from the sun as anything else and I'm not wearig it in the typical 'hijab' style..
Many muslim women here dress just the same as in the 'west', though always modestly of course. In Aleppo you see all sorts - from women all in black with gauzy veils protecting/covering their whole face, to ones in jeans and t-shirts. Adn often you see them walking side by side or arm in arm. I was fascinated to see at least two black-garbed women walking at night completely alone. (Which, I suppose, is an indication of how safe Aleppo is.)

Oh, and to answer your question I get (and give) loads of smiles. It also seems the men here are in general more open than on my last trip wich was, I think, about six years ago.
But everyone is so, so glad to see at least one tourist here.

Edited by: go_2