The World According to Abufares of Tartous

As my weary face stared back at me through the bathroom mirror I vowed not to make the strenuous round trip from Tartous to Damascus on a single day again. " I'm too old for this shit ", I confided to my reflection a few years back. The 250 km distance is divided in two major components and contains what is probably the most boring stretch of asphalt in the world. I have rarely in my travels encountered anything as depressing as the 150 km long reel of stark landscape between Homs and Damascus . It's of course in sharp contrast with the green heaving and cinematically picturesque Tartous–Homs segment. Once I cross Homs on my way back, my breathing returns to normal and my grip on the steering wheel relaxes by its own volition. I am closer to home. A couple of times per year I break my own rule and I often end up regretting my sedition. As the pain shoots out omni-directionally from my stiff lower back I console myself that being stupid is part of the learning

My accolade of the coastal Syrian cuisine is coming brazenly to a riotous gastronomical climax. Some of the provincial dishes I have already described and certainly the topic of today have been underrated for generations in Syria despite being the most ubiquitous. The truth of the matter is that the Damascene are the loudest when it comes to promoting themselves, followed closely by the Aleppine , then the Homsis and Hamwis as distant thirds and fourths. I have already unfeathered ( natafet reech ) the Damascene as being on par with the Lebanese when it comes to their notorious egotism. If left to their own devices, they might go as far as alleging that God Almighty comes from the Midan area. The Aleppine, whimsically gifted with robust yet supple vocal cords, had put their Tarab to self-serving use and advanced their city to the entire Arab world as not only the Mecca of authentic Mousika Sharkieh (Oriental Music) but of delicious food as well. The Homsis and Hamwis stubb

This last year has been a test in resilience for the dozens of bloggers who write out of Syria . A decision to completely block BLOGSPOT was taken at a certain echelon of the Syrian government. Whether masterminded by some praetorian bigwig or by a quisquilian security clerk the wall was ultimately built. Many bloggers gave up eventually. It became a pain in the ass to post or comment on Blogspot. More pliant individuals made the switch to other platforms and continued unheeded by the unwarranted complicity of an archaic bureaucracy. One day in 2006 I started blogging. It never occurred to me that I will eventually soil my hands with politics. I am of the seemingly insouciant apolitical type. Surely I have my opinions but I normally keep them to myself. Through their attempt to alienate me further the idiots could only achieve the exact opposite result. So I got myself a net. www.abufares.net is the new domain of my blog. No longer do I have to sneak behind proxies to reply to com

I have read your excellent blog occasionally but never left a comment. My mistake of course. I have to thank you for saving our planet . It sounds like something Lois Lane would tell Superman after he drops her on a roof of a skyscraper . I'm sure every single Syrian blogger and all readers of Syrian blogs have the same exact words to you: Thank You Yaman!