We had some friends from the Middle East over for dinner last week and we had a really good time reminiscing about our time together in Syria. If you have spent any time with me, you know very well that I go on and on about Syria; especially Aleppo. That place blew every expectation I ever had about a place. I was way wrong. I entered Syria via a late flight from Amman to Aleppo, and as soon as we were left the airport, my misconceptions about the pariah of the West, began to fade away. I felt almost guilty that my minds eye about the place was that off.

Along with Fez in Morocco and Sana’a in Yemen, Aleppo is considered among the best-preserved cities in the Arab world and it is the longest inhabited city in the World. I’m lucky enough to visit two of these places.

While most Arab historic souq’s are largely a tourist trap, Aleppo is a largely intact historic city of 15,000 limestone buildings linked by labyrinthine streets and peaked-roof tunnels. Aleppo’s enormous traditional souq boasts more than seven miles of passageways topped by vaulted stone ceilings with natural skylights. Selling everything from spices and freshly slaughtered lamb to carpets and hardware, the souq remains the heart of the city’s commerce; only a tiny section caters to tourists.

Today, it is hemmed in on three sides by modern, straight, multilane streets, many of them lined with high-rise apartments and office buildings. But a few steps from the high-rises, the historic fabric remains intact.

The walk from the straight streets, jammed with taxicabs, into the Bab al-Nasr neighborhood is unbelivable. It is a journey from a world of automobiles to a world of donkey carts; from a world of inert rectilinear forms to a world of alleyways, curving arches, and latticework windows; from garish, commercially produced signs hawking mobile phones and soft drinks to the simple black-and-green stenciled image of the Ka’ba in Mecca, Islam’s holiest site, atop wooden doorways. Even more powerful than the visual impact of the transition is the auditory one. Just a few paces into the labyrinth, the din of vehicular traffic is replaced by the banter of conversation in the marketplace. A brief stroll deeper, and the voices of men are replaced by the voices of boys chasing after a soccer ball in a courtyard as a hijab-clad mother looks on from the window above.

My lesson learned? Even if you think you know a place by being well-read, think again. I prejudged this place before I ever visited it and I was dead wrong. I am someone who feels like I have a pretty strong grasp of history and I tend to read a lot, so I just thought my early assumption of Syria was going to be fairly accurate. Not until I visit a place, will I form an opinion about it.

This entry was posted on Tuesday, December 15th, 2009 at 5:53 pm and is filed under The Archive, The Middle East, Travel. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.