I’m back in Bamberg, where winter is warm, the streets are clean, and the air is fresh. There is a great degree of noise pollution here, though, because Bamberg is an industrialized city that has not yet learned how to properly informatize itself. Most people here have not reached a point where they struggle toContinue reading “I left Syria, but I brought Damascus with me”
It hasn’t been easy to be at home with my mother again after all this long. This is the fourth time I see her since I moved to Europe in early 2015. My mother is the same every time we meet, yet she’s changed a lot. Some things never change about people, but they age.Continue reading “A Baathist Legacy”
It’s hard for me to meet my father without us getting into a useless and irritating argument these days. It’s been two years since we last met. I’ve seen him three times since I arrived in Damascus. Now I realize how easy it is to be at peace with him when I’m away. I canContinue reading “The Roman Shiite Ottoman”
As a child, I loved my father. We had a good relationship until he retired as a trade inspector in 2000. Up till that point, my father had had a remote positive influence on me. I knew him to be the mighty inspector who had survived 17 assassination attempts throughout a crusade against corruption. HeContinue reading “The Supply Man”
I walk around Damascus and I see how confident and confined its soldiers are, both men and women. They wear their camouflaged suits and tie their machineguns to their backs, commanding the streets as if they were heroes. This makes them the proudest people in the city’s alleys. I’m sure, all the way north inContinue reading “The ugly truth that isn’t ugly”
Photograph by Linda JW / The road ahead – Tunisia Some people meet God on their way to Damascus. I met Joud from Jobar, instead. He was the driver who transported me yesterday from Beirut to my home in Damascus. He charged me a reduced fee of €40 for the whole car.