Performing
at school on International Day, wearing a Druze costume.
Hi!
I’m
Syrian-American. If you’re geographically challenged, that’s a flavor of
Arab-American. This is my blog about my father’s native country, Syria, from my
own personal perspective. I was born in Eugene, Oregon, but I spent the
majority of my grammar school years living in Damascus, Syria, in an old,
conservative Muslim neighborhood: the real deal, not an ex-patriot enclave.
Saad
e’Din in my neighborhood, Midan (2007).
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When I
was growing up, whether I was in Oregon or Syria, there was always something
that made me feel like an outsider. The gap could be subtle like pop-culture
references and idioms or plain like wearing clothes that stood out, or
mean kids at school calling me “Siberia” because they didn’t know how to find
one of the oldest countries in the world on a map (thank you, Cold War). At one
point in my childhood, I described myself as a citizen of “no man’s land,” but
as I got older, I came to respect and enjoy my perspective between two
cultures. Today, I relish my Syrian heritage as much as my American heritage
for giving my life more dimension.
Videotaping
the Tkiyyeh at Suleimanniyyeh Mosque (2007).
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Once, I
overheard a shopkeeper explaining who I was by referring to me as “the
foreigner’s daughter.” True old Damascenes will place you on your family tree
immediately upon meeting you. It had not occurred to me before that I was so
unique among thousands of Mahaynis. At the time, apparently I was. In fact, at
the time, even without giving out my last name, I was conspicuous. I was the
blond girl who spoke Arabic with a Midanese accent - Midan is a borough of
Damascus - and who was invariably accompanied by her red-headed American
mother. Consequently, in a city of millions, I couldn’t do anything in public
that wasn’t eventually reported to my grandfather. However, the name “the
foreigner’s daughter” amused me, so I embraced it.
In 2007,
on summer break from university, I visited Syria after an absence of nine years
– the longest absence in my life. Friends old and new were excited for me to
share pictures and stories of my “exotic” vacation. I didn’t have an internet
connection at my father’s farmhouse where I was staying so I began writing form
letters to send from internet cafés. Since form letters are usually general and
impersonal, I tried to make mine detailed and entertaining, including pictures
whenever possible. The seeds for this blog were sown.
The
Suleimaniyyeh Mosque in Damascus, Syria (2007).
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Feel free
to post questions. They may inspire a future blog! But, please be respectful of
others. I’d like this to be a safe space where people can bring their
curiosity, not animosity.
Thanks! I
hope you enjoy it.
Saha!
-Lemia
June 9, 2013
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