Spring
To Gabriela
[In Peru] in the worst times of terrorism (1980-1992), there was a journalist who had a weekly column where he wrote about flowers, bees, sunshines and smiles. One day, a reader sent him a very long letter asking him if it was worth it to write about flowers, bees, sunshines and smiles when our “brothers” were killing each other on a daily basis. The answer was very simple and short: Yes.
I’m not basking in detached silence. I have stopped blogging only because I can’t add or detract any value in terms of commentary on the recent turmoil in my homeland. In the meantime I've been reading vigorously what my younger fellow countrymen and countrywomen are writing. I have to acknowledge my admiration to their relentless spirit and their unbending belief in a better tomorrow. I have to also thank some of them for piloting me back to reading in Arabic, something, in my opinion, I neglected far too long for lack of quality. But quality and class they have, and brains and the tenacity to forge their way forward and not float in stagnant water with a false sense of security and perpetual bovine bliss. Politics is not my field. As a matter of fact, and after raising my hat to the new breed of gutsy Syrian bloggers, I should also bring to the attention of the venerable armchair political writers and totalitarian apologists that their silence at this moment in time would be their greatest gift to humanity.
On a distant February day this year I bought a DSLR camera, envisioning all the wonderful places I’m going to visit once I’m back in Syria. I rightly thought that with spring at the door I'll have a chance to learn and hone my photographic skills. I imagined the infusion of pictures and words on my blog and contemplated on how, since I’ve resigned from my job earlier, time would be my own again. I'd dedicate more of myself to this blog, I reckoned, and I'd start my endeavor by documenting how inspiring spring in Syria is. Alas, taking my camera on a Friday and driving a car through towns and villages or riding a motorcycle across the countryside in search of that magical shot couldn't be described as the safest hobby at the moment. I regret the missed personal opportunities but I don’t feel any remorse in the grand scheme of things. If it were not for the waves of the sea and for the flow of the river, water would become brackish. The Syrian Spring has turned out unimaginably more exalting than I could've dreamed.
There’s always a calm before the storm. What we tend to overlook is that there’s always a calm after the storm too. When the winds are howling and in the immediate aftermath of a tornado we might despair from the horrid devastation around us. Yet we have seen humanity triumph over and over again and we shall too. “All changes, even the most longed for, have their melancholy; for what we leave behind us is a part of ourselves; we must die to one life before we can enter another”*.
*Anatole France
[In Peru] in the worst times of terrorism (1980-1992), there was a journalist who had a weekly column where he wrote about flowers, bees, sunshines and smiles. One day, a reader sent him a very long letter asking him if it was worth it to write about flowers, bees, sunshines and smiles when our “brothers” were killing each other on a daily basis. The answer was very simple and short: Yes.
I’m not basking in detached silence. I have stopped blogging only because I can’t add or detract any value in terms of commentary on the recent turmoil in my homeland. In the meantime I've been reading vigorously what my younger fellow countrymen and countrywomen are writing. I have to acknowledge my admiration to their relentless spirit and their unbending belief in a better tomorrow. I have to also thank some of them for piloting me back to reading in Arabic, something, in my opinion, I neglected far too long for lack of quality. But quality and class they have, and brains and the tenacity to forge their way forward and not float in stagnant water with a false sense of security and perpetual bovine bliss. Politics is not my field. As a matter of fact, and after raising my hat to the new breed of gutsy Syrian bloggers, I should also bring to the attention of the venerable armchair political writers and totalitarian apologists that their silence at this moment in time would be their greatest gift to humanity.
On a distant February day this year I bought a DSLR camera, envisioning all the wonderful places I’m going to visit once I’m back in Syria. I rightly thought that with spring at the door I'll have a chance to learn and hone my photographic skills. I imagined the infusion of pictures and words on my blog and contemplated on how, since I’ve resigned from my job earlier, time would be my own again. I'd dedicate more of myself to this blog, I reckoned, and I'd start my endeavor by documenting how inspiring spring in Syria is. Alas, taking my camera on a Friday and driving a car through towns and villages or riding a motorcycle across the countryside in search of that magical shot couldn't be described as the safest hobby at the moment. I regret the missed personal opportunities but I don’t feel any remorse in the grand scheme of things. If it were not for the waves of the sea and for the flow of the river, water would become brackish. The Syrian Spring has turned out unimaginably more exalting than I could've dreamed.
There’s always a calm before the storm. What we tend to overlook is that there’s always a calm after the storm too. When the winds are howling and in the immediate aftermath of a tornado we might despair from the horrid devastation around us. Yet we have seen humanity triumph over and over again and we shall too. “All changes, even the most longed for, have their melancholy; for what we leave behind us is a part of ourselves; we must die to one life before we can enter another”*.
*Anatole France
Comments
Saint Augustine has some wise words: the worst darkness is the one that comes just before dawn.
I wish those winds of change may blow steady and as fast, or slow, as they should. I wish the best for your country. I wish the best for my country. I wish the best for each and every country in the world.
Like Gabriela, I wish the best for Syria and all the world. Take good care.
Thank you for this soothing post; it is a welcome respite from the storm. I guess it is the pilot in you that allows you to give us the 10,0000m view; or is it the wisdom of your age :). If is easy to get caught up in the daily details of the events and lose sight of the bigger picture.
I am feeling kind of low today. So I better quit and try later on for a better response to your well written post.
w.b. yeats
You know that it's the other way around. I have to thank you for (gently) poking me to write again. This post was inspired by your words.
What a pleasure!
I have to admit that your blog was my inspiration in mixing photography with prose. You do it so damn well and matching your talent and skill (in both) is an almost impossible goal... but I'll keep trying and may be I can come close.
Thank you for always standing by my side :-)
The horrendous storms and tornadoes that hit the US in the last month or so and the reaction of the brave individuals and families who suffered direct hits were also an inspiration to me in writing this post. There is no word to describe their will and tenacity but "heroic".
Thank you for your thoughtful comments.
I'm very happy to see you here. Looking at the big picture and not focusing on individual details is not the ideal mindset when talking and/or writing about politics and that's why I'm not good at it. However, an idealist with a wide-eye lens (from high above) can sometimes discern patterns which pragmatists and politicians, and despite their long involvement in the Power Game, often miss or avoid, whether intentionally or not.
I hope that by the time you read this you're already feeling better and that you received that much needed hug ;-)
I, too, wish the best to all people: Peace, Happiness and Freedom. If I were any prettier I would've ran for Miss Universe and added "Fighting Cancer" to my To-Do List :-)
Thank you so much. I was starting to feel lonely too being away from blogging then reading and responding to comments.
I hope we all have just happy things to contemplate and write about. Wishful thinking, I know, but I'm a dreamer.
En fin, como decimos por acá, everything is moving towards mayor changes all over the world. We just have to hope it will be for the best.
World peace, happiness and freedom, a cure for cancer and HIV, no more sexual molesters and pedophiles and enough food and water (maybe VINO is better) for all!
Cuídate mucho,
cariños
Hebé
Not to mention the swimming suit competition. I have something none of the other participants have. Hairy legs :-)
Yup... food and wine and enough clean water for daily showers. That's the good life everyone deserves.
Well I knew it was you even without the name. We have a saying in Arabic in the meaning of: The moon can't be hidden.
And that's what your comments are, always rays of hope in a night of darkness.
So glad to see you here and hey... soon :-)
Thank you buddy. We're all safe and sound, hoping for better times.
A glass and more hopefully :-)
Nice to see you here Early Bird!
I really feel so bad for what's going on in Syria, I hope all goes well very very soon.
Abu Abdo
I miss our talks my friend and hopefully all's well that ends well.
Take care of you and yours and please stay in touch.
We call it Etra in Tartous عطره
There are other kinds of Etra with a much more powerful sweet smell and I'm not sure if they are related. This one, however, we use sparingly in cooking, specially with meat to remove the "Zankha" from the food and in other dishes to give them a pleasant and robus smell. It might be used with tea too but I really can't tell.
Thank you for your visit.
I have to thank you for making one of your rare appearances on my blog ;-)
Mi casa es su casa, but you already know that.
All I can say at the moment is that I long for the sound of the pine trees swaying in the wind on a brightly moonlit night, with a crisp cool air as I lie with my friends and cousins on the rooftops nibbling on bezer and gossiping about who married who in the neighbouring villages.
You know how reluctant I am to write politics, not out of "fear" only but out of disgust as well.
However, I believe that I have a minimal moral obligation more toward myself than toward the readers of this blog to state, in my own way, where I really stand.
I'm not at all for chaos but I'm not for murder in the name of security either.
We will all benefit from a democratic Syria where and when none is above the law and everyone is guaranteed to live their lives, politically, socially and economically as they choose under an umbrella of equality and justice.