After working as a reporter in Cairo, Theodore May wanted to
know more about the history, culture, and people of the Middle East. So
he decided to explore it, and use one of history’s conquerors as his
guide. For the next eight months he’ll be following in the footsteps of
Alexander the Great, tracing the 2,000-mile path Alexander forged
through the modern Middle East. Theo will be writing about his
experiences for The Global Post, and you can be follow him on Twitter at @Theodore_May. He’ll be contributing glimpses from his journeys here at Intelligent Travel.
“In the old days, the Ministry of Information used to be like the secret police,” Fady, my state-issued minder in Damascus, told me.
“Today it’s just here to help journalists,” he added brightly.
I arrived in Syria, on foot from Turkey, on a journalist visa and had been advised to visit the Ministry of Information to check in. There, I was told that to do any work whatsoever in the country, I’d need a minder. That’s where Fady came in.
While, like most journalists, I managed to do much of my work on the
side, I thought I’d rope Fady in for a tour of Damascus’ old city. That
would keep the ministry happy and teach me a thing or two about Syrian
press controls.
When we met at the designated hour, it was approaching 80
degrees. While I was hot in blue jeans and rolled up shirtsleeves, Fady
met me dressed in a heavy double-breasted suit and carrying a
briefcase. It was obvious that this was serious business.
The old city of Damascus is a dazzling destination, even for
the most seen-it-all Middle East traveler. Gold markets tumble into
spice bazaars. Painters mingle with bootleg DVD sellers. Cart men hawk
fresh blackberry slushies. Watch sellers use the walls of the imposing
Ummayad mosque as a backrest while they push their wares.
Fady and I headed to Souk al Hamidiyeh, the old city’s covered market. Hamidiyeh dead-ends into the Ummayad Mosque, where we turned south to
explore the spice market.
I strolled up to one vendor who was selling everything from dried mint
to almonds and casually asked him how the economy was treating him.
Fady, standing right behind me, jumped in.
“This is Theodore May, a journalist,” he said, gesturing at me. “My name is Fady, from the Ministry of Information.”
The conversation, for all intents and purposes, was finished
before it started. The salesman mumbled a couple of words about how
sales had held up and then went back to arranging his goods.
I
tried talking to another vendor, but the outcome was the same. It
didn’t take me long to realize that I wouldn’t get any good answers
from these men with Fady around and that it wasn’t fair to the vendors
to put them on the spot in this way.
Understanding this, I suggested to Fady that we just stroll to the
other side of the old city and call it a day. He agreed.
Fady, I should note, was great fun to hang around with, even
if he did scare off most of the people I tried to talk to. He also
knew his history, so he taught me volumes about the old city’s
background.
As we walked, the spice market gave way to a slew of cafes, with
Syrians young and old lining the sidewalks smoking nargileh (which is Syrian for “water pipe”).
Beyond
the cafes, sleepy narrow residential streets snaked off in every
direction. Eventually we reached Bab Tuma (Thomas’ Gate), where the
quiet alleys of old Damascus collide with the buzzing streets of the
modern town.
I wished Fady farewell and hopped into a taxi, happy I’d gotten a taste
of reporting with a minder. Even though it didn’t generate any
reporting, I chalked it all up to the Syrian experience.
Follow along with Theo’s journey at Global Post, and on Twitter @Theodore_May.
Photos: Above, shopkeepers avoid Theo’s gaze; Below, the raspberries used in slushies. Fady, naturally, did not agree to be photographed. Photos by Theodore May.
Middle East – Cairo – Alexander the Great – Syria – Turkey