Happy Hour in Damascus

The two French students who live next door to me returned home to Beirut today from a 24-hour jaunt to Damascus, and promptly began vomiting strawberries.

Apparently, the problem wasn't so much that it is still a little early in the season to eat a kilo of Syrian strawberries. The problem was all the whiskey with which they washed them down.

It also didn't help that they were arrested, beaten and thrown in the trunk of a car.

For the record, I've spent a total of about six months in Syria and have never been arrested, beaten, or eaten a kilo of strawberries.

But I do feel like a few words of caution might be helpful to those of you who are of university age who may have heard that Damascus is the new Prague and who may be thinking of going there to study Arabic and hang out in the bars and alleys and courtyard houses in the Christian Quarter of the Old City and wear scarves and smoke hubbly-bubblies.

1) Don't get drunk and disorderly in a Ba'athist security state.
2) When in doubt, if someone is chasing you in Syria, they are probably secret police.
3) Don't try to run away from them.
4) Don't talk back to the secret police. And don't yell: "What are you gong to do? Arrest me for drinking? This is a free country!"

--Andrew Lee Butters/Beirut