The three go to: Homs (and some other stuff on the way)

The next morning, before leaving Damascus, we went back to see Azem Palace, the best example of traditional Damascene architecture in an Ottoman-period (mid-18th century) palace, now the Museum of Popular Traditions. Some rooms house exhibits on the royal family and life in the palace, others belong to the museum and display various aspects of culture in Syria. Like other (traditional) Damascene houses, the exterior is plain and gray, without windows inviting you to peek inside. But once inside, you realize that all the rooms are focused inwards, to the courtyard, the center of family and social life. The courtyard has fountains and gardens, an oasis of privacy for the royal family, plagued by the problems of governing a city like Damascus. There are separate wings for women, servants and entertaining guests. The walls are striped with black (basalt) and white (limestone) stones.

Some of the most interesting rooms included one on the Haj—the yearly pilgrimage to Mecca—which displayed religious gifts for the governor, including mini Qu’rans (with every verse inside) and a grain of wheat with 6 verses of poetry inscribed on it (wheat is more valuable than gold!) praising the glory and wisdom of the ruler. Another room displayed popular entertainment: men sitting in a café, smoking argileh, drinking coffee (this looks familiar), watching a screen behind which a man is putting up various figures and human shapes (like puppets), to the side is the storyteller, narrating the figures’ actions, and in the back are the musicians—a primitive cinema!

From there we walked back through the souqs heading to our hotel, stopping for a light lunch of the best zaatar bread we have collectively ever eaten, then we packed up, checked out, and headed north.

We were planning to stay in the central city of Homs while exploring a few sites in the area: to the west is Krak des Chevaliers aka Qala’at al-Hosn aka a citadel, and to the east is Palmyra, aka Tadmur, an ancient Roman city once ruled by the brilliant Queen Zenobia, whose empire was built on wealth gathered from their convenient location at an oasis at the crossroads of caravans travelling on the Silk Road. On our way to Homs, my mom decided that we had had enough Muslim culture for the time being and needed a dose of Christianity to appease her Catholic guilt, so we hired a taxi and a guide (Bachar from our museum tour) and stopped at two important Christian sites on the way.

The first was Seidnayya (it means “Our Lady”), a convent in the mountains that is apparently the second most important Christian point of pilgrimage after the holy city of Jerusalem. Inside the convent there is a shrine which houses an icon of Mary painted by St Luke (though for the past ten years no one has been allowed to see it) and has a number of miracles attributed to it (for this reason it has become a place of pilgrimage for Muslims as well).

At the entrance of the convent there was a small cage protecting a spot on the stairs that resembles the Virgin Mary and on the cage people had tied pieces of tissues to it. Apparently people believe that if they come back to visit the shrine and the paper is gone, it means their spouse is not faithful to them; for this reason, some people chose to use a lock instead of a piece of tissue.

Once inside, we took off our shoes and entered the small room packed with people. From the ceiling hung many swaying gold incense holders, the room was dark and lit by candles, the walls were covered in framed icons and superstitious symbols (the hand of Fatima, ex) and people knelt in front of the shrouded icon and prayed while in the background one of the sisters of the convent (wearing a black head-covering much like the Muslim headscarf) prayed in Arabic.

From Seidnayya we continued to Maalula, a small village built into the mountainside that is one of four villages in the area that still speaks Aramaic, the language of Christ. In fact when we got out of the car just before entering the village to take a picture, we were met by 3 seven year old boys who offered to sing to us in Aramaic for 50 lira. In addition to shrines and churches to visit, our guide also directed us to St Taqla’s Gap. The story of the saint says that she was persecuted by her family for converting to Christianity, so she left from her home in Turkey and walked south through Syria. She was being chased by her father’s soldiers so at some point she faced a dead end and the earth opened up and created a gap for her to escape through (either by way of God’s will or earthquake).

We left Bachar in the village center (luckily a bus was departing for Damascus just as we arrived) and we continued with the driver to Homs. Driving north, the landscape turned again from rocky desert to green agricultural fields, small villages and herds of sheep and goats.

That evening, after arriving in Homs (birthplace of a few Roman rulers) and settling in to our outdated but spacious hotel suite, we walked the city looking for markets and restaurants to pass the time. We passed several coffeehouses full of men smoking argileh/hubble bubble/hookah and groups of women shopping and eating ice cream, but didn’t find much of what we were looking for. Instead, we did find a delicious sweet shop to buy some treats to keep us happy as we travelled.