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We had another long weekend. This time for Martyr's Day. I came dangerously close to not having travel plans, but then at the last minute I found out that a friend named Tessa was performing in a band. The gig was scheduled at the US Embassy residence in Damascus so a few of us took taxis across the border and enjoyed a weekend with our friends at the Damascus Community School.
Tessa taught here at ACS last year, but moved to Syria to work at DCS this year. We've all stayed in touch and have mingled with her new staff on several occasions. The two cities are only a two hour drive away from each other and since relations have cooled off between the two countries, there are no lines at the border and it takes no time to process your passport.
My friend Courtney and I shared a taxi there and went straight to the Embassy residence Friday morning. It was an afternoon BBQ hosted by the American Embassy Employee Association and they hired Tessa's band to perform at 1pm. We arrived at 11am and were let in without showing ID. Strange, but then again the guards were Syrian and not your model of self discipline. We were led around the back of the estate where some band members were setting up equipment on the large veranda. We didn't recognize anyone so we made some awkward introductions and found a seat near the fountain.
I've only been to two Embassy residences and this fit the mold I'd expected. Immaculate lawn, well kept hedges, weed free flower beds, swimming pool, fountain, tennis court, marble statues and ivy covered tresses. A BBQ hearth was being tended on one end of the expansive lawn and a makeshift bar was set up in the gazebo manned by two out-of-uniform marines. Coors light, Budweiser, and Ice House beer were all available as was a variety of American sodas.
So there I was, in Damascus, listening to a garage band belt out Beatles tunes, while I sat on the lawn and ate hamburgers, potato salad,
snicker doodles, bugles chips, and drank beer brewed in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. I swear my life is bizarre. I tried to explain the contradictory nature of this to the Syrian taxi driver on the way home, but I don't think he understood the nuances involved.
A bunch of us went to dinner that night. Luckily we were the only patrons so we expected fast, reliable service. Unfortunately, there were eleven of us in the party so that might have overwhelmed them. It took two and a half hours. And that was without dessert. We had two waiters who had one eyebrow which they seemed to share. One of them reminded us of a Syrian Eugene Levy and the other was Bert from Sesame Street. They were well meaning, but sloooooooow. By the time the entrees were served we had
forgotten what the soup of the day was.
The highlight was the birthday song. Our hosts knew what to expect and wanted to treat us Beirutites to the experience so they told the waiters it was my birthday. Normally I don't like to be the center of attention, but I've had a similar experience at TGIFridays so I was ready. But not for the pyrotechnics involved with choreographed lights and sound. Suddenly, a gong boomed and echoed through loudspeakers. Bells tolled and the music blared.
Happy birthday was played at a high decibel and the lights all flashed in sync. We all had a good laugh even though it slowed the service to an imperceptible crawl.
We returned to Beirut ready for our first full week of school since January. It should be interesting. An exiled military leader returned over the last weekend, another bomb went off in a northern suburb, and people are rallying for elections scheduled at the end of the month. We'll be lucky to work a full week between now and June.