Let it Snow

I stood behind the kitchen window on this Friday morning. It was 7:00AM when the cloud above broke her water. Flurries of snow started falling and drifting in the light wind, very unusual for seaside Mediterranean Tartous. I went outside to the balcony to drink my espresso and enjoyed five magical minutes. The thermometer showed 8ºC. What a glorious day!

I woke Fares up, “Come on! There must be plenty of snow for us in Kadmous.”

“Oh, Baba! Are you sure?” Fares had only been in the snow once a few years ago in Farayyah, Lebanon. He was about five and he had a blast so his excitement was only natural.

At 10:00AM we left Tartous and headed north on the Lattakia Highway. 35 KM down the road we crossed Banias and made a right turn and quickly climbed our way up the mountains. I could tell that whatever snow we might find would be light at best. We crossed one enchanted village after the other, Bermaya, Faresh Ka'bieh, Isquableh as we steadily gained altitude. 57 KM from home we reached Kadmous at an elevation of 1000 m (0ºC). Fares could not believe his eyes, there was snow indeed and everywhere. We drove for five minutes due north and stopped by a snow covered hill and well... played in the snow.

I hope you enjoy this short video of the day.

Trapped in Hope

"We all live in a house on fire, no fire department to call; no way out, just the upstairs window to look out of while the fire burns the house down with us trapped, locked in it”

Tennessee Williams

“There was a power outage at a department store yesterday. Twenty people were trapped on the escalators.”
Stephen Wright

“People are trapped in history and history is trapped in them.”
James Arthur Baldwin

“Here we are, trapped in the amber of the moment. There is no why.”
Kurt Vonnegut, Jr.

“No man knows when his hour will come; As fish are caught in a cruel net, or birds are taken in a snare, so men are trapped by evil times that fall unexpectedly upon them”
The Bible

“Worry compounds the futility of being trapped on a dead-end street. Thinking opens new avenues.”
Cullen Hightower

“Sometimes I feel that I'm a lesbian trapped in a man's body - which actually works out pretty well”
Author Unknown

“With relish and delight, you continually bite at the bait; you are trapped, you fool - how will you ever escape?”
 Sri Guru Granth Sahib

“Love comes to those who still hope even though they've been disappointed, to those who still believe even though they've been betrayed, to those who still love even though they've been hurt before.”
Author Unknown

“Learn from yesterday, live for today, hope for tomorrow.”
Albert Einstein

“In all things it is better to hope than to despair”
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

“Hope is the dream of a soul awake.”
French Proverb

“Hope never abandons you; you abandon it”
George Weinberg

“Man can live about forty days without food, about three days without water, about eight minutes without air, but only for one second without hope”
Author Unknown

“Hope is not a dream but a way of making dreams become reality.”
Author Unknown

“Dum spiro, spero (Latin), "While I breathe, I hope"
Latin Proverb

P.S. You might of course deduct that presently I have nothing to say, that I am totally unispired. Well you are absolutely right

"I am trapped in hope."
abufares

Dutch Mills

Was it meant to be that way, to invariably fall in the arms of a new city only deep in the night? In the small hours of Monday I stepped out of the train station in the center of Rotterdam. She shuddered at my sudden appearance and defensively grabbed my throat with a bitterly cold hand. I pulled my collar high around the neck, squinted into the wind then walked north in search of a taxi. She relaxed and apologetically let go. "You're late", she said under her breath, vapor rolling with her words and disappearing instantly. Remnants of Christmas ornaments and lights shined and blinked for no one but me as the snow covered sidewalks were left completely deserted. Whoever celebrated here were gone, hiding within the comfort of quaint small apartments. If they were sleepless tonight and looked from behind their wide un-curtained windows to the streets below, they would see the shivering shadows of naked trees and the hunched figure of a lonely traveler seeking a warm bed.

I stared at her as the cab gobbled the chilly asphalt. So young, she looked, racy, tempting and in vogue. Rotterdam was completely destroyed by the Luftwaffe on May 14th, 1940 and rebuilt from scratch thereafter. Her modern skyline caught my eye and tickled my fancy. I have never met any city so adolescent and tempting like her before.

The steamy jet of water washed the dust from the lengthy traverse off of my body but did not bring solace to my mind. I was weary and tired and only a telepathic whisper, a sigh of relief, emanating from within brought sleep to my eyes. I dreamed of nothing in the short time I rested before my day began, before the next seventy two hours heartlessly kept me awake and on the run.

I was able to take short walks in between meetings. After the mutant tepid winter of the Levant the subzero temperatures felt imperative to my biological calendar. Memories from the distant past danced in my head. It had been a long time since I lived in such a cold place, yet the images were hopeful and alive. I longed for a frost that turns warm in the holding of hands. I saw our footprints in the snow, large and small entwining, crisscrossing as we hugged and swayed in a slow amble along a white path.

When it was finally over, the work, we dined in a superb seafood restaurant on the River Ijssel. Vitor, an epicure with a kind heart and a priceless sense of humor from Galicia and I sat across the table. Amid laughter and good food he talked lovingly of his homeland. I have learned more about what Spain is and is not that evening than I had from reading the many history books once upon a time. We drank a silky Caiño Blanca harvested from near the Minho river in Galicia, he told me. We talked of fish and wine, of La Coruña and Rotterdam, of the folly of men and the eternal beauty of women. Well past midnight we rode through the  countryside toward Schiphol airport near Amsterdam. As the sparse old Dutch mills stood silent in the dark modern ones turned incessantly in the wind. The forty five minute drive passed in the blink of an eye as the good times always do. We hugged for an everlasting minute in the lobby of yet another hotel. "Be safe my friend Vitor", I said. "See you in March, God only knows where, dear Abufares", he replied.

I did not have sufficient time to lose myself to slumber. Instead I tossed and turned waiting for icy take-offs and landings and a tiring drive home in the rain.

"Sleep well and hold me tight", I dreamed of the words kissing my forehead then capering down my face.

"Goodnight", I closed my eyes and floated in an azure womb of adoration unbeknown to the mass of desperate men. I did not stir a muscle for the next fourteen hours.

Good morning World, I am back in Tartous.

Packing

I do not sleep well on the night before I travel and the last hours before an imminent departure are always restless. Packing for a midwinter trip is knotty as there are more things to take and to forget.
This time I'm leaving the warmth of an unusually mild winter with absurdly beautiful weather (today: clear skies and 24ºC) to higher latitudes and subzero temperatures.
Out of Tartous in the morning and two taxis, two planes and a train later, it'll be past midnight in some small room of a big hotel in a strange city.
I will be back at the end of the week, hopefully with a  new story to tell.

2009 according to a tartoussi

2009 is almost over. It started brutally enough with the massacre of 1,400 Palestinians by Israel and it is going to end with the decision makers of the free world still looking the other way. Not a single "democratic" country dares accuse Israel of being as atrocious as Nazi Germany. Statesmen and stateswomen disagree on everything: health care, welfare, the environment, military spending, prayer in school, immigration, same sex marriage, China and global warming but not about Israel. What a bunch of wussies! Ha! This is as far as I am willing to talk dirty politics in a bar or to write on my blog.

Personally, 2009 has been a great year as I have finally came out of my intellectual closet. I had my doubts about religion for as long as I can remember. I have chosen to keep my skepticism under the lid purposely so I do not upset others, many of whom I really care about. But then one day, I stopped being comfortable. I can accept being whatever to anyone but not a hypocrite to myself. To actually believe that we are lucky, chosen, blessed and special because we were born to a certain religion is the biggest lie we can teach our children. I put an end to that once and for all. Whatever I was by virtue of birth I am a secular humanist by virtue of choice.

I also took sides on several issues this year, at least on my blog. Syria, cradle of civilizations and birthplace of human folly and genius, is as colorful as a rainbow. It has always been a land of multiplicity where people of different faiths and cultures coexisted in peace and harmony. It is inimitable in its unique social fabric. The streets of Damascus and every other city contain a human assortment of opposites not to be found anywhere else. From the modestly clad to the sensually provoking, men and women of divergent cultural backgrounds walk side by side. Ours is a secular and pluralistic country where people have historically kept their religious beliefs to the confines of their homes. Generations taught subsequent ones to imitate them, to carry on their values and mores but to accept others for who they are. The new wave of religiosity is as alien to our Levant as the state of Israel is. Over the many centuries of conflict and struggle for political and social control no singular doctrine held power but ephemerally over this land and her people. Any attempt to restrict our diversity and garb us with desert gowns of ignorance, austerity and sameness will fail. I will side with anyone or any group, whether I agree with them or not, in their quest for freedom of choice and expression as long as they do not intend to curb mine. I am equally against men and women wearing burqas in airplanes as I am against them going inside houses of worship naked. The sexual preferences of others are their business and their business alone. Any self righteous hypocrite who denies them this basic right whether by terrorizing them with divine text or through imposing his or her twisted sense of morality cannot be trusted as a potential partner in the democratic process. They are the usurpers to watch. They are as bad, if not worse, than the prevailing variety of psychopaths ruling most totalitarian countries in the world.

 

I am comfortable with people and happy in my solitude. In 2009 I sought my lonely moments of privacy with unbound relish. Before being a hardworking man, a good neighbor and a law abiding citizen, even before being a husband and a father... I am me. “I came to this world alone and alone I shall leave.” If I do not enjoy the silent sounds of my thoughts or laugh at my own jokes, if I do not smile for her eyes only, if I cannot maintain that space that is utterly mine, how can I ever bring meaning to my life? What kind of person will I be to all the others if I am not myself to me? When I write “out loud” I do not intend to impress. I write mostly to a soul mate who is beyond the grasp of your imagination or my gift for words. For as long as I can remember I considered happiness as a vague and unreachable concept. Only idiots and non-sentient mammals could ever claim such state, I thought. This year has proved me wrong. The moment I realized that happiness is not an end by itself I became happy. No time is more important than today. Nostalgia adds a second dimension to the linear flow of time as memories bring solace and sweet compassion to our burdened minds. But only hope makes our lives worth living and dynamically happy. It is this third dimension that most people are missing and it is exactly what I have found in 2009.

I will continue to write out loud. I appreciate every single reader of this blog, whether she agrees with my choices or not. I am thankful for those who comment and criticize as long as they maintain common courtesy. I am honored by the many friends I have made over the last few years through blogging and who have been nothing less than inspirational. I still have no message to give. I do not blog to change others but to remain me, despite all. 

Merry Christmas

Merry Christmas
To all my friends
To my dear readers
To You!

Imagine Tartous

I woke up very early as is my habit and enjoyed my solitary morning hour. The onslaught of last night's storm rebounded in my mind and trudged along the bloated streets and through the flailing branches. As the winds howled and the rain pounded against the windows the frowning sky inflicted her wrath down upon the coast. Outside the breakwater, the sailors of a moored ship toiled feverishly in the blinding gale to let her loose and untie her ropes from the constricting buoys . When they finally set her free her master put her on a defiant course in the face of waves and fed her all the power the monstrous engines could muster. She rode the six-meter high swells leaving the treachery of solid land behind and headed deep into the sea where it is safest for her and her men.

I sipped my espresso and listened to stubborn gusts inviting me for a ride along the seashore. They had something to show me, they promised.

Five minutes around Tartous to the sound of 3 random songs and that of the sea. Just come ride with me.