Goodbye, Damascus…

Dan and I took one last day trip from Damascus and went to Bosra, another set of Roman ruins but with a twist—there are still people living there. Interspersed throughout the ancient black stones (Dan described the town as “emo”) are shacks, pickup trucks, and bazaars designed to attract tourists like us. Bosra has a long history, and was once a Nabatean settlement (like Petra) that later became a major city in the Roman province of Arabia. It is also the site of a special moment in the history of Islam, since it was here that a priest named Bahira met Mohammed and predicted that he would become a prophet. The most impressive thing in Bosra is definitely its theater, which has the best acoustics of any ancient theater I have been in this summer (I have now visited five of them). When I sat in the bleachers and clapped my hands an echo immediately raced back to me, and Dan and I could speak in normal voices and easily hear each other between the stage and the top row of seats.



We also milked the last of our precious time in Damascus, which is one of the coolest cities I have ever visited. After a disappointing lack of high-quality juice in Jordan, I was delighted to discover that Syria has fantastic juice. One of my favorite experiences was a visit to the Souq, where it is possible to acquire everything from shisha pipes and traditional embroidered dresses to tacky teddy bears and oversized Miley Cyrus pens. The covered streets were absolutely packed with people seeking to combine shopping and socializing, which made the place feel like a giant party. The festive atmosphere definitely helped me get over the disappointment of our trip to the National Museum, which is a great place except that the Classical exhibits—including the Byzantine materials and the synagogue wall paintings from Dura Europos—are off limits due to extensive renovations. Talk about heartbreak.



Although they ended up being pretty lame, we also visited a couple of Damascus’s famous Christian landmarks, the churches of St. Paul and of St. Ananias. The latter church is located in the alleged original house of Ananias, who cured Paul of his blindness in the book of Acts and, according to tradition, became an early Christian bishop. The church itself is not terribly exciting, although I very much enjoyed watching an orthodox priest (which kind of orthodox I cannot say) come in with his camera phone and even pose for pictures with exaggeratedly pious gestures and facial expressions. It was clear he was having a blast. The church of St. Paul is said to mark the spot where Paul was lowered in a basket from the top of the city wall because his preaching had infuriated so many people that he needed to escape. The actual building is of no particular interest. Both of these churches, however, have classically tacky gift shops whose wares I highly recommend because they are fun!



Ultimately, we had to bid Damascus farewell and catch a bus to Palmyra, but I am convinced that someday I will go back. Damascus is just too nice a city to see only once.