Shadows and Steps

Syria

A country that gave me so many singular memories, become so sad. Flying from Cyprus to explore Crusader castles along the coast. Moonlight picnics in Apamea. Meandering through Aleppo medina’s Aladdin-like hidden palaces and souks. The black ruins of Bosra hosting Austrian symphonies. The games of tawlé in curious Qutayba’s ancestral courtyard. My Ismaili students showing me the vineyards and gardens of Salamiya, city of peace. Touring the ruins of Palmyra with precious Amal, the rooftop feasts in Damascus, the endless circles of academics, artists, diplomats and grand merchant families. Within three years much of this earthly jenna would lie in the ruins of war.

Syria

I woke before dawn and wondered down the hill from Rawda, past the Citadel and the Masjid Al-Darwishiyya and into the covered souk of Medhat Pasha. The coffee sellers were grinding the beans for their towering copper pourers, the smell of hot fresh bread filled my nostrils.

Turning left into the stripy caverns of Al-Buzuriyah I came out of the souk and into the starlight under the Roman gate and face to face with the mighty Umayyad, Jupiter’s subjection to Islam. I continued to wander, from the Sunni quarter to the Shia, through the Christian and into the old Jewish quarter with the stars of David still over the old house doors.

Next journey...

Finland

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