Sunday, 24 August 2003 Jaramana and Arneh, Syria
97 degrees, SUNNY!

Naeif wakes up at 8 AM, to a little bit of digestive upset, and goes off to drink Yerba Mate. I wake up at 10:30, and am feeling slightly under the weather as well. I take a shower, we have breakfast in the salon, and we decide to take it easy today. Maybe just a little dash out to shop for dishdashis later when it gets cooler.

Could it have been the glasses of Arak at Hussein's last night or the local digestive bacteria that caught up with us? Both Naeif and I are feeling weak today, so we lounge in the salon and drink white soda. It's time for a relaxing day. It's usually my plan to drink nothing but bottled water, even brushing my teeth with bottled water, for the first week or so, but this time we both jumped right in to drinking the tap water and eating all sorts of food, vegetables, salads, even some very decadent kibbeh at a restaurant - uncooked lamb. I hadn't been as careful as I usually am initially with the food, because we really are here at "home" and do not have a rigorous trip schedule so there's plenty of time to relax.

Readers of the journal may be wondering when I'm gonna get my ass out and see some history already. When my brother and sister in law get here on the 4th of September, in addition to my swinging birthday party planned, we'll be doing a road trip, Lawrence of Arabia style. We'll hit Aleppo, Latakia, Homs and more. Right now, it's all about Syrian family life, Rafeh-style.

Meanwhile, back in the salon, Naeif and I are lounging. He insists it's the flu, I diagnose it as simple travellers upset. An extended discussion in Arabic ensues, and it seems the pharmacist, who is on the phone, agrees with my diagnosis. Naeif and I head into a different salon to watch some CNN Europe and take an nap for a few hours.

There is a curious custom here. Whenever the phone rings, and someone is having a conversation, everyone else stares at that person, and comments on the conversation while they're talking. It's unsettling and confusing, but . . . "al hayat" - that's the life here.

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Now the plan is to go to ARNEH, with Hussein and his family. This is a good plan. Get rid of the slight travelers upset that is plaguing Naeif and me. Naeif actually got sicker than I did, he's not used to his country anymore, it seems. We all get it together surprisingly quickly, pile in Hussein's van (which is much nicer than the piece of crap VW microbus) and zip out of Jaramanah.

Arneh is northwest of Damascus, about two hours out of the city. It's the scene of the Rafeh's mountain home - in the Golan Heights. It's really gorgeous - they have a little two room house with a big porch and a fairly large kitchen with an incredible mountain view. I swear, it looks like Tuscany. The ride to Arneh is eventful, at one point, I need to hide in the back of the van - foreigners are not particularily common here - until we pass the military checkpoint. Finally, the arrajnabe "foreigner" can sit back in the front seat, after Hassan chats briefly with the military guys - they know the Rafehs - and we travel up the road a bit.

The route to Arneh is kind of crazy. Mostly highway, with drivers paying no attention to those crazy dividing stripes on the road. People selling bread and fruit rush out into the road, practically, and cars pass on both sides. It can make you crazy. After entering a more rural area, it's a bit more serene. The people on the road merely stop what they're doing and stare endlessly at anything passing by.

Finally, we're on one lane rural highways, winding around the mountains, and it's getting a lot cooler outside. The air is fresher, it's just way more blissful all around.