Iftar in Jordan

During last year's Ramadan we decided to break fast in Amman (ie the capital of Jordan, mhmmm mhmmm). Since Muslims fast throughout the day during Ramadan, the evening meal, called Iftar, is somewhat reminiscent of a Ukrainian wedding feast, except you have to attend said wedding every night for a month, all the while steering clear of the booze and merrymaking (nevermind, how Ukrainian is a booze-less wedding? Possibly less Ukrainian than the statue of liberty). When fasting, you are not allowed to eat or drink, and if you ever see a Muslim spitting profusely during Ramadan it is also because some people believe swallowing their saliva is un-Ramadany too. In my best efforts to be a devout Muslim for a day I went without Coke for about two hours. I was also explained that eating and drinking in public would be the biggest taboo that has ever lived, but having succumbed to my lack of willpower I scavenged the streets in search of an open shop to feed my fizzy soil colored liquid addiction. Having at last found a semi-open corner store full of men catching Ramadan z's I beyond awkwardly purchased some Bebsi (the Arab Pepsi. duh). I tried to offer them an explanation--something along the lines of--I'm saving it for later, but they didn't speak any English, so I'm pretty sure they thought I was rubbing the Bebsi in their faces. I then proceeded to crawl under the seat in the car and practise gluttony on a can of Pepsi in a foetal roll on the floor. 
The thought of starvation continued to haunt me throughout the day. My state fluctuated between sheer delirium and the feeling of certain death for nearly an hour when the sun started setting and the scent of cooking on the streets penetrated my senses like potent smelling salts. We chose Tannoureen for breaking fast--a Lebanese feastaurant (or fastaurant? I have a degree in wordplay. No I don't! You so bought that). My delirious state, coupled with the afternoon prayer and the gleaming of the day's last rays directly into my eye made the whole thing unbelievably surreal. We were surrounded by burka-clad ladies and beardy men excitedly lasering the dates on the table with their eyes (it's tradition to break fast with dates first. I obviously funnelled down my plate of dates, pits and all, way before the sun was down). But here is the climax of my story you have been on the edge of your seat for: when our collective prayer finally made the sun go away and its rays stopped harassing my retina, the fury of hunger was unleashed on what I can only describe as a gigantic, never-ending, mind boggling buffet of extremely unfamiliar food fit to feed an army of godzillas. Despite the hunger-fuelled stampede, there was so much food in every corner of the room that malnourished tears were short of pouring down my face in disbelief at the heavenly display. 
Obviously I was too busy hoovering down unidentified grub to take pictures. Photography only infiltrated my thoughts by the time I turned into this and it was dessert time. 

Unidentified weiner-shaped meatballssticks and something in a taco roll

 

Goga gola 

This may come as a surprise but I know what this is called: it is called Luqaimat and they are like deep-fried sugar balls. Ta da!

So I guess Iftar in Jordan is one experience I will never forget. Just imagining that people get to do this every day for a month makes me wonder why I am not Muslim yet, but then I remember about the fasting part and that answers my question. Ok baiii 

Syria - Damascus

I visited Syria a while ago but never really got to indoctrinate people with its awesomeness so I will attempt to do so now. Syria rocks for several reasons. First of all, it is a country under martial law since the 60's, and continues to be so, justifying its regime by the threat posed by the state of Israel. Unlike many other Arab Muslim states, such as Saudi Arabia and Egypt, Syria is not under Sharia law (religious Islam law) but is rather secular, and is ruled by the Socialist Ba'ath party. Being under military regime means you won't browse the likes of blogspot or facebook in Syria--or you could try, but then you get shot. Ha ha! Only joking, you get your typing fingers chopped off. Boring stuff aside, being in Syria totally has a communist slash retro-military feel to it. I like it! 

Here is a really enthusiastic dictator-y traffic-blocking policeman who helped us get around town. He loved his job. 

Here is Syria's president Bashar Al-Assad hanging out in the streets of Damascus, watching over the people what not

Our first pit stop was the beautiful Umayyad mosque in Damascus. John the Baptist's head is allegedly buried here, having been decapitated and presented to King Herod on a silver platter...

               

 The amazing entrance to the mosque and secret VIP room which took 200 years to build

   Tis me clad in lavish Arabian textiles

 See what I mean by retro-commie vibe? Feels like you just got warped dead bang into the middle of the cold war. 

                                                                              

Then we went to hang out at Azem palace, built in the 1700's for the Ottoman governor of Damascus. Syrian architecture is my worldwide fave so far, full of colour and insane minute detail. The picture below is a reconstruction of a bath house and they are just bathing! You  pervert. 

  

One thing Damascus is really famous for is its Al Hamidiyeh Souq (market) which is a really lively roofed street stretching out for miiiiles, with the most beautiful stuff on sale. Obviously, when there, you would have sinned if you didn't visit Bakdash--the world famous Damascus home-made ice cream place. It was crammed and I don't even like ice cream--but have you ever wondered what god has for dessert? Bakdash ice cream.. It's in the Bible, I checked. 

We did some a LOT of shopping--stuff in Damascus is hand-made and cheap. If you like to shop then you probably shouldn't come here because this place will make your head pop. 

In the evening we hung out at the Art House--a stunning converted mill restaurant/hotel with a never ending supply of incredible food I practised gluttony on. This place defo surpassed a Western place in the amount of free yum and fun. 

Our trip continued with a visit to the Golan heights which I will cover later. All in all I have to say Damascus is  is pretty much the Paris of the East. It doesn't get too much tourism mainly because people have no idea what it's like, but my verdict is you would deny yourself a lot of exotic pleasures if you didn't visit here NOW. Plus, you probably need the break from facebook. Am I right? 

Visit to Hebron

I recently got to join my parents on a trip to Hebron, the largest city in the West Bank and home to a cropload of Jewish settlers. We met with Mr Khaled Osaily--the city's mayor, who was super kind to show us around the place and invite us over to his kick-ass house. Awesome living quarters aside, Hebron is a city full of spicy history and action, and not really the good kind. As the favourite hangout place of Abraham and his posse back in the day, the Cave of the Patriarchs, located in Hebron, is the second holiest site for Jews after the Temple Mount, but also happens to be highly venerated by Muslims and Christians, as they too like a bit of Abraham and that. Anyway, fifteen or so years back one Jewish settler doctor decided to pay the jam-packed Ibrahimi mosque (located over the cave) a visit during Ramadan prayer time, bringing with him a token of friendship in the form of a massive machine gun, hosing the mosque down with bullets and killing 29 people before being bludgeoned to death by the angered crowd. Since then the mosque has been partitioned, part of it becoming a synagogue, with bullet-proof glass separating the two sides from "stray" doctor bullets.

              Here is a terrible picture of the bullet-proof glass hanging out right next to the cenotaph of Abraham

We then had a stroll through Hebron's deserted markets. Legend has it that once upon a time the markets were filled with merchandise and visitors, until they began to pose a massive security risk to the settlers who decided to settle directly above them.. Having settled above the bustling Palestinian markets the settlers decided the ideal place for garbage and general toxic waste disposal would be.. tum dum dummm--the busy market streets! Here are a few pics of the kind of things people's heads and merchandise  served as a dumping ground for.

                     

Giant plastic barrels, bricks, wood boards and  tables are not the type of objects I normally dispose of at MY house, but then again I also prefer a different exit route for my trash. 

All in all it was a pretty fun day, I got to hang out with some soldiers wielding machine guns and have awesome lunch at mayor Oseily's house!

Mayor Oseily's home-made Hebronian food FTWWWW