Reminiscence from the Levant: Part Nine – A beautiful morning
The next morning, I woke up automatically at 5 am… without needing an alarm… I did not want to miss the Palmyra morning.
Palmyra's morning is to be seen to be believed… the orangish ruins look surreal in the dawn… and there cannot be any better way to see this place, than the dawn.
Last night while having Mansaf in a Bedouin tent, I met an Indian looking guy. We entered into a conversation after the dinner… and chatted for almost two hours… He was a South African with Indian roots, a Muslim… and was working in Saudi Arabia in a place called Tabuk as a paramedic. He wanted to be a doctor, could not qualify for a medical course and therefore compromised for a Para-medic course. A year ago, he came to Saudi Arabia in search of a more paying job. His wife was also from Indian origin, but from the FATA region (now in Pakistan)…
He told me a few very interesting things… his wife's family and other such families (whose roots are in, now what is called Pakistan) that migrated to South Africa more than a century ago (and therefore do not suffer from the historical baggage of partition) still associate themselves more with India than Pakistan… they have not been able to accept that the land of their forefathers was not India, but a much later created Pakistan. He was astonished, at first, when his wife rooted for India in an India-Pakistan cricket match (he however was very neutral on such issues, having accepted that South Africa and not India is his country...and was having pride in South Africa as being the only beacon of hope for Africa... with a wonderful public system).
Then he spoke about his observations of the Saudi society… and how his experience of living in Saudi is fraught with humiliation on a day to day basis. How, because of his skin's colour, sometimes even a six year old native speaks to him with disrespect. He said that even though he is a practicing Muslim, but he is ridiculed many a times by a few of his Saudi friends for not being a true Muslim. He in turn wondered if they follow Islam in true spirit… after treating their employees so badly… He told me a funny instance of how some of his Saudi friends used to pass sexually abusive remarks on even the Burqah clad women (aren’t they wearing Burqah to avoid such remarks and to preserve their dignity, as per the puritans….!) and then wondered as to why he doesn’t do the same…. He tried explaining them that he comes from a different society and that in his society, people do not usually get such thoughts and having such thoughts are considered perverted… but far from being convinced, his friends, for a while, thought that he was a homosexual.
The ruins of Palmyra are more intact than the one I saw in Apamea… its location was such that the caravans traveling from the far-off lands to the ports of Syria had to necessarily pass through it… and they used to refer Palmyra as "Bride of the desert". So much was the clout of the city that it practically controlled and regulated the entire traffic on the Silk Route… (Palmyra's queen Zenobia was so powerful that her armies captured the mighty Egypt in 3rd century AD). On the exterior of it, Palmyra seems to be Romans… but some historian claim that Palmyra pretended to be Romans so as not to invite their ire and retained its own distinct traditions in the garb… its Gods and even their funerary arts are very distinct from their Roman counterparts.
The first part of the ruins is an impressive Temple of Biel… which is huge and very much intact. From the gates of the temple a kilometer long colonnade section starts, which though not as grand as the one in Apamea, is beautiful because much of the art work is still intact…unlike Apamea. Apart from a beautiful and long colonnade section, Palmyra has virtually all sections of a township, much intact… the bath, the granaries, the temple, the stadium, the court, the senate where the seniors of the town used to meet and discuss the issues confronting the town, the administrative and the residential blocks…. At the centre of the town is an impressive building with 4 symmetrical pillars and at the farther end is a beautiful temple of war, where the military insignia were kept. Ahead of that temple are the fields of a magnificent funerary complex… worth a look.
From one end to another it must be a 2-3 kilometer walk… but within the periphery of these few kilometers, Palmyra gives you wonderful bird-eye view of what a township used to be like, in the yesteryears.
Having seen the ruins of Palmyra, I went back to the hotel… and checked out… and took a bus to Damascus.
The road to Damascus is interesting… earlier while coming to Palmyra from Homs… I was fast asleep… this time however, I was wide awake. The entire stretch is a barren desert… however all along the road you can see military build up… Syria is a big country… and to provide their army a strategic depth against a superior Israeli air-force, Syria has garrisoned a large part of its army and artillery in the hinterlands… on the Damascus-Palmyra and Palmyra-Deir Ez Zor roads.
While leaving Palmyra, I had a last look of Palmyra ruins and the Arab castle… it was a day well spent…while leaving Palmyra, I came to a junction point from where a road goes towards Deir Ez Zor… Niam had told me that Zor is a nice and relaxed place; however because of lack of tourists, facilities have not developed well- especially for the back packers.
At the bus stand, I saw a very beautiful Bedouin girl… merely in her early teens… her eyes had a mystical sparkle…most of the Bedouin women cover their entire face… and only girls are allowed to keep their face open till the age of puberty.
I reached Damascus in the evening… often dubbed as the oldest living city in the world…. Naturally, I was excited… I had heard so much about the city… the whole idea of traveling in Levant emanated from my fascination for this great city… the first few visuals of the city, convinced me that I am in the right place… green, spacious, relaxed, friendly and full of beautiful faces… and lesser number of head scarves.
I was in Damishq and about to spend a sleepless night.
Palmyra's morning is to be seen to be believed… the orangish ruins look surreal in the dawn… and there cannot be any better way to see this place, than the dawn.
Last night while having Mansaf in a Bedouin tent, I met an Indian looking guy. We entered into a conversation after the dinner… and chatted for almost two hours… He was a South African with Indian roots, a Muslim… and was working in Saudi Arabia in a place called Tabuk as a paramedic. He wanted to be a doctor, could not qualify for a medical course and therefore compromised for a Para-medic course. A year ago, he came to Saudi Arabia in search of a more paying job. His wife was also from Indian origin, but from the FATA region (now in Pakistan)…
He told me a few very interesting things… his wife's family and other such families (whose roots are in, now what is called Pakistan) that migrated to South Africa more than a century ago (and therefore do not suffer from the historical baggage of partition) still associate themselves more with India than Pakistan… they have not been able to accept that the land of their forefathers was not India, but a much later created Pakistan. He was astonished, at first, when his wife rooted for India in an India-Pakistan cricket match (he however was very neutral on such issues, having accepted that South Africa and not India is his country...and was having pride in South Africa as being the only beacon of hope for Africa... with a wonderful public system).
Then he spoke about his observations of the Saudi society… and how his experience of living in Saudi is fraught with humiliation on a day to day basis. How, because of his skin's colour, sometimes even a six year old native speaks to him with disrespect. He said that even though he is a practicing Muslim, but he is ridiculed many a times by a few of his Saudi friends for not being a true Muslim. He in turn wondered if they follow Islam in true spirit… after treating their employees so badly… He told me a funny instance of how some of his Saudi friends used to pass sexually abusive remarks on even the Burqah clad women (aren’t they wearing Burqah to avoid such remarks and to preserve their dignity, as per the puritans….!) and then wondered as to why he doesn’t do the same…. He tried explaining them that he comes from a different society and that in his society, people do not usually get such thoughts and having such thoughts are considered perverted… but far from being convinced, his friends, for a while, thought that he was a homosexual.
The ruins of Palmyra are more intact than the one I saw in Apamea… its location was such that the caravans traveling from the far-off lands to the ports of Syria had to necessarily pass through it… and they used to refer Palmyra as "Bride of the desert". So much was the clout of the city that it practically controlled and regulated the entire traffic on the Silk Route… (Palmyra's queen Zenobia was so powerful that her armies captured the mighty Egypt in 3rd century AD). On the exterior of it, Palmyra seems to be Romans… but some historian claim that Palmyra pretended to be Romans so as not to invite their ire and retained its own distinct traditions in the garb… its Gods and even their funerary arts are very distinct from their Roman counterparts.
The first part of the ruins is an impressive Temple of Biel… which is huge and very much intact. From the gates of the temple a kilometer long colonnade section starts, which though not as grand as the one in Apamea, is beautiful because much of the art work is still intact…unlike Apamea. Apart from a beautiful and long colonnade section, Palmyra has virtually all sections of a township, much intact… the bath, the granaries, the temple, the stadium, the court, the senate where the seniors of the town used to meet and discuss the issues confronting the town, the administrative and the residential blocks…. At the centre of the town is an impressive building with 4 symmetrical pillars and at the farther end is a beautiful temple of war, where the military insignia were kept. Ahead of that temple are the fields of a magnificent funerary complex… worth a look.
From one end to another it must be a 2-3 kilometer walk… but within the periphery of these few kilometers, Palmyra gives you wonderful bird-eye view of what a township used to be like, in the yesteryears.
Having seen the ruins of Palmyra, I went back to the hotel… and checked out… and took a bus to Damascus.
The road to Damascus is interesting… earlier while coming to Palmyra from Homs… I was fast asleep… this time however, I was wide awake. The entire stretch is a barren desert… however all along the road you can see military build up… Syria is a big country… and to provide their army a strategic depth against a superior Israeli air-force, Syria has garrisoned a large part of its army and artillery in the hinterlands… on the Damascus-Palmyra and Palmyra-Deir Ez Zor roads.
While leaving Palmyra, I had a last look of Palmyra ruins and the Arab castle… it was a day well spent…while leaving Palmyra, I came to a junction point from where a road goes towards Deir Ez Zor… Niam had told me that Zor is a nice and relaxed place; however because of lack of tourists, facilities have not developed well- especially for the back packers.
At the bus stand, I saw a very beautiful Bedouin girl… merely in her early teens… her eyes had a mystical sparkle…most of the Bedouin women cover their entire face… and only girls are allowed to keep their face open till the age of puberty.
I reached Damascus in the evening… often dubbed as the oldest living city in the world…. Naturally, I was excited… I had heard so much about the city… the whole idea of traveling in Levant emanated from my fascination for this great city… the first few visuals of the city, convinced me that I am in the right place… green, spacious, relaxed, friendly and full of beautiful faces… and lesser number of head scarves.
I was in Damishq and about to spend a sleepless night.
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