leilapiazza

[leilapiazza]

#livingwhileBlack

#livingwhileBlack I'm not Black. I'm not white. But I am American and I'm speaking out.

I am not a Black American. I am not a white American. I’m what’s called Brown in this country. There are other less savory names for my people, but I’ll stick with what I find acceptable. Middle Eastern. Arab American. Syrian American. And I’M AGAINST POLICE OFFICERS KILLING UNARMED BLACK MEN.

I didn’t know George Floyd. He wasn’t my neighbor or my friend. In fact, we live in different states.…

[leilapiazza]

Morning pages are an exercise recommended in a FABULOUS book called, “The Artist’s Way,” by Julie Cameron, that you may or may not have heard about. Well, you heard about it now, if not before. This book includes many helpful, actionable ideas for finding and expressing the creativity that lives within us all.

The idea behind morning pages is simple. Every morning, before you do anything else, you write three pages in a journal, stream-of-consciousness style. Sometimes, my thoughts are disjointed and I jump around from thought to thought. Other times, as on April 9, I seem to have one long flowing monologue that presents itself to me. Today I am sharing my thoughts from April 9.

I have been working with morning pages for almost a year. I have learned a lot about myself and started making many positive changes. Doing morning pages helped me realize that there were areas of interest in my life that I wasn’t pursuing. So, I started capsule wardrobing and creating outfits that I share on Facebook and Instagram. I started sharing my yoga practice. I started taking taking tango and ceramics classes at my local community college. Oh yeah, and I started a business! Syrian Home Cooking. How cool is that?

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Mezze for a cooking class.

From our home to yours…

Sweets for the sweet.

I also realized that I wanted to go back to college, and so now, I am enrolling at Portland State University. I will start pursuing my degree in English with a writing minor and studying Arabic, as I have wanted to do for years. Each day, I have new insights into myself and new hope for the future. Here are my morning pages for April 9th. I have organized my thoughts into paragraphs, although these words are otherwise unedited and in their original format.

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Raku fired pottery.

How perfectly…

imperfect.

“April 9, 2019 Stardate 14745.2 mark 7. Whatever. For some reason, that came into my head. How can I figure out “what to do?” Ask God to show you HIS will. Her will. Whatever. These morning pages are designed to help us open ourselves up to the will of the Creator. Meditation and prayer, likewise. But it’s so easy to spend that fifteen to thirty minutes, or even just five, if we’re honest, listening and seeking, then just go about OUR business, never really connecting what we’ve learned to the actions of our daily lives.

As I’m drifting, rudderless, in this midlife ocean, I find myself slowly starting to relax. Literally relax. My shoulders are at least an inch lower, my neck is unstiffening. My dreams are vivid and I’m beginning to remember them again. And I find them full of insight. So how can we “let go and let God?” I’m starting to realize that we can’t let God if we don’t let go first. All my busy-ness, all my running around. Gotta do this, gotta do that! Here’s a list of 20 things I “should” have done yesterday that I won’t even have time to do tomorrow. So I stopped.

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Taking it easy.

Feeling good…

and very relaxed.

What am I doing now? Whatever is in front of me. Directly, immediately in front of me. And space is opening up. My body is opening up. My mind is softening. My lungs are expanding. My breath has deepened. My spirit is beginning to unfold again. I feel connected to God again. I feel like I’m floating, untethered, really. I feel like I’ve fallen off a cliff and I’m laying down, arms and legs wide open as I fall to the forest floor below. And it’s weird and it’s scary, but it’s good. And meanwhile, all of life continues around me. I run a business, I make baklawa, pay my bills, brush my teeth… but something more is going on. I don’t really know what it is, but I can feel it.

Fundamental change is possible if we have the courage to open ourselves up to it. And if we trust in a power that is greater than ourselves. I’ve been walking in the woods again. Last night I watched a nature documentary and was reminded again of the sheer beauty and majesty of the world we have been given. Wildebeests, penguins, flamingos, and fjords. Magic. It’s all magic. In the woods, I see the moss and mushrooms. Hundreds of flowers cover the forest floor right now. Water is glistening on the fern fronds, tree branches, and even the stones that lay on the ground.

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Trillium.

Alpine iris.

Spring flowers. Crocus.

Life is all around us and we are a vital part of it, whether we are immediately aware of this truth or not. I want to walk through life wide awake. I want to open myself up to life’s possibilities. I want to move beyond fear of failure, insecurity, and unworthiness and embrace God’s gifts. I pray today that I may lay down my ego and will and open my eyes to whatever lays before me. And I pray for the opportunity to help someone today. I pray that I may be of service in some way.”

Here are my morning pages for April 9th. I have organized my thoughts into paragraphs, although these words are otherwise unedited and in their original format. Morning pages are an exercise recommended in a FABULOUS book called, "The Artist's Way," by Julie Cameron, that you may or may not have heard about.

[leilapiazza]

Marcia and I were walking the other day and she asked me about Part II of Thrift Shop Tips. “It’s too long to tell you while we’re walking,” I said. “I’ll publish Part II soon though.” (That was a month ago!) And here it is. (finally!) It’s twelve steps. Not too many really, and they go by quickly.

As I mentioned to Marcia, I’m really proud of my system. In the old days, I bought many, many clothes that I ended up never wearing. They didn’t fit quite right, they had problems I didn’t notice in the store, and worst of all, more than once, I bought something that was great, only to find that it didn’t go well with anything I owned.

But those days are over! I’ve been using this system for a few years now. It’s fast, easy, and very, very successful! You can read Part 1 for general thrifting tips. This post is about the nitty gritty – sorting through your finds to make sure your money is well spent.

Think broad when picking sizes. Normally a 10? Look at 8s and 12s too. Thrift stores carry a wide variety of brands, which translates to a wide variety of sizing standards. If it looks like it might fit and it’s on your list, put it in your cart. Put anything interesting in your cart. Don’t hesitate or give it too much thought. Gather everything in all your categories (if there’s room), or start with the most important category if you’re looking for multiple items. There’s a winnowing process, but the first step to efficient thrifting is to quickly choose items of interest.

My initial haul at Red, White, and Blue. These clothes are not just draped on top of the cart. That thing is FULL!

Initially, try everything on quickly. After you’ve finished your reconnaissance, slip into each item for an initial reaction. This is gut-feeling level judgement.

A “no” or “meh” response means discard immediately. Don’t hesitate or try to talk yourself into keeping a “meh“. The goal here is to leave with things you love and more importantly, things you’ll actually wear. There’s no way something will end up being a go-to item in your wardrobe if your initial reaction is “meh.”

Coral and cream open weave color block sweater – $8.

Take time to put the item on properly before deciding, but don’t arrange it to look “right” in the dressing room. If it’s not right, it’s a no. You’re gonna walk, sit, and stand in whatever you wear. Arranging or rearranging your clothes throughout the day is never a good idea. 

If you’re thinking maybe or yes, do a quick fit check. Is it tight in the shoulders? Does the chest button pull open? Any fit issues equals a no. Does it need altering or repair to be a yes? Is alteration feasible? Look at the price. Add in the cost. Still worth it? If yes, keep it for now.

When you’re taking off a maybe, immediately look at the price. Still a maybe, put it in the yes pile. Sometimes, just looking at the price will turn a maybe into a no. Absolutely reject something because it’s more than you want to pay. Conversely, don’t buy something because the “price is too good to pass up.”

When you’ve gone through everything once, get rid of all the nos. Get em out of there.

Try on each of the maybes and yeses one more time. Take a minute or two to move around. Still laying properly? Is it flattering? Does the material feel good? Great!

  I wear this cardigan….

ALL THE TIME!!!

Now, think of at least three items you already own that will work with it. Still a yes? Excellent! Now, all you have left are solid potential purchases.

What’s left? The fine print. Examine everything carefully now. Do the following:

check the seams

check the zippers/buttons/ other fasteners

look for tears in the material or stains

smell!!!! armpits or crotch area. Gross huh? Trust me, it’s much worse to find out AFTER you buy the item.

  Dark wash wide leg jeans

A simple black sweater works well with this black lace pencil skirt.

Lightweight beige open weave sweater.

 Once you have looked over everything carefully, add up the cost of all the items. Are you within or close to your budget? If not, look through what you’ve got and decide what to give up.

Buy your YESSES! Take them home, wash them, add them to your closet. Wear them, rock them, love them!

I shopped for about an hour and a half and came away with six solid pieces for my wardrobe. A year and a half later, I’m still enjoying my purchases. The total cost: $52! 

 Thrift Shop Tips – Part II Marcia and I were walking the other day and she asked me about Part II of Thrift Shop Tips.

[leilapiazza]

An open letter to a man who called me a "bot."

An open letter to a man who called me a “bot.”

     Unfortunately, this is the problem. Without any real research or conversation with me, you have dismissed me as a “bot.” My page is open to the public. I’ve been on Facebook since 2008. When I showed my son your comment, he laughed. “Wow mom, that’s amazing! This guy thinks you’re a bot?! He thinks you opened a Facebook account before the war, and then posted thousands of pictures of your…

[leilapiazza]

Thrift Shop Tips - Part I

Thrift Shop Tips - Part I Ever have a really frustrating thrift shop experience? I sure have. Thrift shopping can be hit or miss, and sometimes it seems like a real waste of time. Here are four tips to consider before you even set foot in the store.

Ever have a really frustrating thrift shop experience? I sure have. Thrift shopping can be hit or miss, and sometimes it seems like a real waste of time. Other times, you can feel like you scored some great finds, only to take them home and realize you wasted your money on some real duds!

Over the years, I’ve developed a pretty efficient system for thrifting. I’ve improved my chances of finding…

[leilapiazza]

“I don’t hope that the West will come here, because it had a big hand in the war against Syria,” said Youssef Alousi, sales manager at Balkis Ceramics, a Syrian tile manufacturer which was showcasing, among other designs, a picture of Syrian President Bashar Assad printed on tiles. “Syria will be rebuilding Syria,” he added. (https://apnews.com/25b543ec1d9e4bfab219eecd165145e6)

This is a commonly-held feeling in Syria today. Despite this, all Syrians are anxious for commerce to move and keep moving. There is no active fighting in Syria right now, even in Idlib, where there are radical Islamist groups like Tahrir al Sham, a ceasefire is in effect. Throughout the rest of Syria, there is peace and security. The government has removed all radical fighters from the majority of the country, and while damaged buildings and road checkpoints make it obvious that there was recently a war in the country, life has largely returned to normal.

Here are some of the new buildings, which are being built all over the country – there’s absolutely a real estate boom in Syria right now. I saw construction literally everywhere I went.

The biggest impact of the war continues to be economic struggles. The people I spoke to in Syria blame the U.S. sanctions for these problems. They feel that the U.S. first used sanctions to try to turn the people against their government, a sort of “give up your leader or else” policy, and that now that U.S. policy has failed to overthrow their government, the sanctions are used to punish the Syrian people.

Syrians are, above all things, practical and stubborn, in almost equal measure. As it happens, I think stubbornness wins out. What this means is that the people of Syria will insist on what they believe is the best way forward, even if it means continuing to face crippling U.S. sanctions. Many Syrians even believe that the sanctions help them, making them stronger and more resilient. One day, I marveled at the fact that the internet remains working even when the power goes out. My nephew’s fiancée responded with pride, “yes, this is one of the accomplishments of the war. Our country has developed new technology to survive and even to thrive.”  Thriving despite the sanctions means that they have proven that they are stronger than the U.S. Of course, that is also a general belief now.

Before the war, there was virtually no anti-U.S. sentiment in Syria. In fact, the people who most resented the West were the people the U.S. has supported in this war – radical Islamists. They frowned on U.S. economic involvement in Syria, the popular European and U.S. fashions seen on the streets in Syria, and the generally liberal lifestyles of Syrians (social media access, cable TV, men and women mingling in public freely). The majority of Syrians, however, embraced Western culture and felt that U.S. involvement in Syria was largely a positive thing, especially economic investment.

Now, most Syrians want nothing to do with the U.S., particularly the U.S. government. They read things in the news like this:

“Nikki Haley, the U.S. ambassador to the U.N., insisted last week that America will not “rebuild Syria” for Assad and his Russian supporters, calling the idea “absurd.”” (https://apnews.com/25b543ec1d9e4bfab219eecd165145e6)

And Syrians respond, “good. We don’t want the U.S. here. They destroyed our country, why should their companies make money rebuilding it?” They also believe that the U.S. only helps countries who bow to their will, and they reject this option entirely. “For eight years, the U.S. government made war on Syria, and now they think we want them to come “help” us?” said one man I spoke to. “We want nothing from the Americans. NOTHING. Only that they leave us alone.”

So, what is Homs like today? I went to the city and spent three days there with my sister, Julia and sister-in-law, Nadia. You can read about my family here, here, and here.

Leaving the village.

A view of the Krak des Chevaliers castle.

My nephew, Antoun, drove us into the city. I sat in the front with him while Julia and Nadia chatted in the back. Antoun and I talked about the war. He returned to Syria from Trinidad the year before the war started. He and his wife were living in Trinidad when their son was born, but they hated life there. They didn’t have a close-knit community and the streets were unsafe. So, they returned to Syria, and a year later, war broke out. Despite Antoun’s past residence in Trinidad, they chose to stay in Syria.

“Syria will rebuild,” Antoun told me. “No one in the world will stop the will of the Syrian people. For eight years, almost every country in the world was against us, but we worked together to get rid of our enemies, and we will work together to make the country great again,” he said.

I asked him how he felt about the Russian presence in Syria. He shared a common opinion with others I spoke to, saying, “The Russians are our friends. They came because we asked for their help and they have helped us. We are happy to have Russians here working with us to keep the country secure and work toward rebuilding the country. The U.S. complains about the Russian presence in Syria, but the U.S. government wasn’t invited here, and they are against our country. Like Iraq, Afghanistan, and Libya, the U.S. pretends that they want to help, but all they do is destroy and take what they want. Russia has helped the Syrian people and works with us as an ally. We feel very good about the Russian presence in Syria.”

As we drove down the road, we went through a checkpoint. Traffic slowed to a crawl. I looked at the people in the car next to me. There was a woman in the back seat with three children. Her youngest was adorable, all curls and smiles. I waved at the little girl and she waved back. The other kids waved and so did their mom, smiling at me as a mother does when others recognize her children’s beauty. This mother wore a black hijab, but she had no hesitation in smiling at me, a stranger wearing a shoulder-baring tank top. I found this very reassuring. This was the Syria I knew before the war, a Syria where people respected others’ religious beliefs and religion was not a barrier to friendship. Perhaps, Syria was recovering in spirit as well?

Another thing I noticed is that everyone was continuing to smile and converse in their cars. No one seemed nervous or worried about going through the checkpoint. It seemed like a routine matter that people took for granted. It certainly belied the U.S. idea that Syrian citizens are afraid of the army and the government. When it was our turn, my nephew chatted with the soldiers, and one of them walked past our car with a little machine that my nephew told me was meant to detect explosives. The soldier in the front asked us where we were going and why. My nephew said we were going to Homs to visit friends for a few days. And just like that, in under two minutes, we passed through the checkpoint. All told, it added about ten minutes to the trip.

The worst sights I saw in Syria were upon us now, as we approached the city. Off in the distance, I could see the wrecked buildings. Tall apartment buildings bombed out, their top floors exposed and their windows missing. My family said, “see, this is where you can see the war Leila. But don’t worry. It’s only part of the city. Most of Homs is fine. Don’t worry, you’ll see.”

Next: My first taste of the city.

On the Way to Homs “I don’t hope that the West will come here, because it had a big hand in the war against Syria,” said Youssef Alousi, sales manager at Balkis Ceramics, a Syrian tile manufacturer which was showcasing, among other designs, a picture of Syrian President Bashar Assad printed on tiles.

[leilapiazza]

Today I’m going to tell you about my sister’s family. If you missed my last post, about my brother’s family, you can find it here.

This is my sister, Julia, the one in the middle. She has five children, three girls and two boys. Her daughters married and moved away years ago but her two sons are sticking around (so far).

Julia, with the heart of gold.

My dad says, “qalba dihab” (heart of gold), when he talks about Julia, and it’s true. She is such a sweetheart. She’s an exemplary Syrian mother, cooking and cleaning, anticipating the needs of her family, and working for the good of her family with a smile on her face. She loves her husband, children, and grandchildren and it shows! It’s clear they love her too, if their phone calls and visits are any indication. Her daughters call every day or so, keeping her up to date on their lives. Her oldest son, Antoun, lives down the street with his wife and three kids, and her youngest son, (and the baby of the family), Eddy, lives at home with his mom and dad. He’s engaged to be married – more on that later.

Julia and I spent a lot of time together in the village and in Homs. We like to sit and talk together or just be together. She is a great cook (I’m so lucky, everyone who cooks for me in Syria is a great cook!) and we had some pretty great meals while I was there. Additionally, she sent me home with her homemade za’atar blend, dibs ramaan (pomegranate molasses), and hand-dried sumac. She also sent a bottle of arak (anisette liquor) for my husband – she knows the way to her brother-in-law’s heart! She loves that I do yoga and is always telling her friends about it.

Bashur

Her husband, Bashur, is a kind and gentle man. He loves Syria fiercely. The war has been very hard on him because of this. He ran his own laundry in Homs. The front, corner bedroom was converted to the business years ago. He did the laundry in the back of the house and outside in a shed on the back patio, then pressed clothes, hung them, and met with customers in the front room. In the village, there is no business, so he is retired.

I have never met anyone in Syria who knows as much about history as Bashur. You can ask him anything and he knows the answer. Not just about Syria, but the Middle East as well. His dedication and love for his country is something I admire so much about him.

My nephew, Antoun, is a driver. He takes people all over the valley and to Homs. He also drove me to Tartous and Baniyas while I was there. When I went to Baniyas, I went with him, his wife, and their three kids, as well as Eddy, and Eddy’s fiancée, Merna (whom I love, love, love!).

Antoun works hard and takes whatever work there is. Sometimes that means he works long hours and sometimes it means he works seven days a week. He is a very reasonable person, and when he talks about serious things, you feel that you trust his judgement because he is so sensible. He is also fiercely dedicated to his family.

Antoun and Naya.

Antoun’s wife, Amal, is literally one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever known (see for yourself). She’s that way on the inside too! She’s fun to hang out with and loves to have a good time. She’s a great mom and wife too. I’ll write about my trip to Baniyas another time and show you lots of pictures, so stay tuned.

Then, there are their kids, Edward (Edoody, 9 years old), Andrew (Andoora, 6 years old), and Naya (4 years old). Edoody acts very grown up for a 9-year old. He is pretty serious. He hates having his picture taken and I’m not sure I have a picture of him. He’s also too addicted to his cell phone games. I just want to say, Syrians have the same problems as Americans when it comes to cell phones! This is a totally universal problem.

Andoora is a ham! He is so much fun to play with and goof around with. We argue over the right way to pronounce words because his mother is from the Big City (Homs), and my Arabic is “Amar” Arabic with a distinctive accent. “Shoy.” “No, shai,” (rhymes with chai). Shoy. Shai. Shoy. Shai. Also, I taught him and Naya the slap game. You know, when you put your hands on top of someone else’s and they try to slap the top of your hands. They were ridiculously easy to beat. One of the many reasons I love hanging out with kids – I almost always win!

Hanging out with friends.

Naya and Tayta Julia.

Merna is the cutest!

Naya is a little sweetheart who’s super sassy! She was really excited to start school in the fall and gave me a little fashion show of her school clothes and showed me her new backpack. It’s great to see kids excited about school!

So, about Eddy and Merna. Merna is Eddy’s fiancée and I’m so happy for them. I think they are just perfect for each other! Eddy is a painter. That is, he’s a house painter. There’s lots of work in the area now. There is a lot of rebuilding going on, but also just a lot of building in general.

Telling Eddy what’s what.

Engagement cake.

I’m a happy aunt.

Many people have moved into this area since the beginning of the war. It is free of terrorists and fighting. Of course, now, most of the country is, but the valley was cleared of terrorists back in 2015 or so, while there was still active fighting in other parts of Syria. So, of course, people left areas where there was fighting, and many came to our area. Especially Christians.

We live in an area called “Wadi Al Nasara” (Valley of the Christians).” There are many Muslims in the area as well, but with a large Christian population, many Christians from all over the country came here to escape opposition-held areas where they instituted strict shari’a law and threatened and harassed Christians. So anyway, the point is, there’s a lot of work for builders, painters, tile setters, etc. This is great for Eddy!

Smoking arghelli.

Lifting his glass to me.

This is the face I love!

I love Eddy because he is a tough guy on the outside, but full of deep love for the people he loves. He’s quiet, smart, and really, really funny in a clever way. Merna is his equal, which is really important. Eddy is so strong, he needs a strong woman. Hopefully, they are getting married next summer. We all love Eddy so much that my son and daughter and I are absolutely determined to go back for the wedding. I’m so grateful for all the nights I got to spend hanging out with Eddy and Merna and their friends this year.

Wow! It takes a lot of words to tell you about my family. And think, that’s just the family I have living in Syria! Next time, I’ll tell you all about Homs.

Syria Today – Part III My Family (the other half of it) Today I’m going to tell you about my sister’s family. If you missed my last post, about my brother's family, you can find it…

[leilapiazza]

Syrians tend to have large families. Not so much today as in the past, but to give you a brief idea, I had eight aunts and uncles on BOTH my mom and dad’s side. As a result, I have a total of 35 first cousins! In my immediate family, there’s my oldest sister, Sana, then my brother, Yousef (whom we call Zouzou – like zoo-zoe (rhymes with “toe”)), then my sister Julia, and finally, my twin sister, Noel, and myself. (Are you still reading?)  I also have 13 nieces and nephews and 19 great-nieces and great-nephews. Just saying.

    Sana

Zouzou

Julia

Noel

My older siblings were born and raised in Syria. My twin and I were born in Allentown, Pennsylvania. My oldest sister, Sana, came here when I was young. Zouzou and Julia stayed in Syria by choice. Up until the war, they had very good lives and were happy to be there. Even during the war, even though things were difficult, they decided to stay. Now that the war is all but over, they have both told me they don’t intend to leave Syria ever.

    Sitting around…

Eating and having fun!

My brother has four children. Shadi (the “a” is like “android” – “shad-dee”) is the oldest. His wife, Rihab, is from Habnimra, a larger town about 15 minutes away. Their children are Yousef (Zouzou – named after his grandfather), Jouri (like “bonjour” – “jouree”), and Laith (pronounced “Lais – rhymes with “face”). Don’t ask.

    Shadi with a shish-ka-bob

Isn’t she beautiful!

At a wedding, looking elegant.

Shadi owns a mini-mart, which surprisingly, has EVERYTHING, literally anything you could possibly want. I think it’s magic. He also chauffeurs people around in his recently acquired Peugeot. Shadi is a hard worker and loves his family. In that way, he takes after his dad. Rihab is a blast! SOOOOO funny!!! She totally cracks me up, although, seriously, I can’t even print some of our funny conversations. Just trust me. I was having serious hair angst before a baptism reception, and she gave me an expert blowout. Also, I always ask her for advice when I’m in Syria.

A Peugeot in Homs. NOT Shadi’s Peugeot, which is far nicer!

Their son, Zouzou, spent the summer working part-time in his dad’s store. He rides around the village on a motorbike (like everyone else).  He’s very smart and is looking to study engineering at university. He’s a senior in high school this year. Jouri is sweet and smart. She writes fables for fun! I wish I had copied the story she read to me so I could tell it to you. I’ll ask her to screenshot it and send it to me. Laith is a blast!

Laith. Super smart, super sweet.

He’s super smart and nine years old. He’s a real ham and loves to ride around in his new bike.

Jouri and her selfie-stick.

Shereen is next. She lives in Hab Nimra. She married Rihab’s brother, Wassim. Wassim is great! He’s one of my favorite people ever! He’s a tile setter and a builder. I’m gonna do a whole entire post on Wassim and his work because it’s so awesome. I told him he should move here, he’d be a millionaire his work is so good! Shereen and I talk and talk and talk. Even when I’m here in the States, we’ll be on video chat for an hour at a time.

    Ready to ride home.

Shereen looking lovely.

Wassim and his youngest son, Jado.

Their kids are Gibran (named after the famous Lebanese poet, Khalil Gibran), Jilanar (which is the what they call the pomegranate blossoms), and Jawad, whose nickname is Jado. Gibran is 11, Jilanar (Nara) is 8, and Jado is 4.

    Nara and Gibran.

Jado!

Gibran’s birthday party.

We like to go on hikes together. And walkabouts in general. In Syria, people ask each other if they’d like to go “a mishwar,” which means go for a walk.

Living on the edge.

Going for a walk together is definitely a popular activity. Shereen’s kids and Laith took me to the “Ain” (sort of rhymes with “fine”) in my village. This is a natural spring that’s been protected. We climbed the rocks. Even Jado!

Chillin’ on the ledge.

He’s a tough guy! We watched the frogs, and looked at all the plants, and closed our eyes and stood together in silence for an entire minute, listening to the sound of the wind in the trees and the bird calls. It was a magic moment!

    Gibran – king of the hill.

The “ain”.

Beautiful Amar.

Relaxing after work.

Danny and Muhanned are my brother’s youngest kids and they are twins! Muhanned got married last year and he and his wife, Sara, have a new baby daughter, Massa (which means “diamond”). She is the cutest. Here, see for yourself. I’m so happy for Muhanned. He’s very happy and his wife is lovely and smart and a great cook and mother. And Massa is, well, you see. She’s a treasure.

    Have you ever?

Seen such a cute?

Little darling?

Danny is still single! Waiting for the perfect girl. He can sing “Bye, Bye Blackbird” all the way through. I taught it to him in 2010 and he still remembers it. He’s learned a lot of English since then and he practiced with me during my trip. He makes me laugh but he’s also really smart. He sings in church and has a beautiful voice. He has a lot of friends – everyone loves Danny. He and his friends often stay up until 4 or 5 a.m. talking and laughing, drinking yerba mate and smoking the argheli.

    Hanging with friends.

Jouri and Dany.

My brother is retired now. He still works every day. He’s super smart (I know I keep saying that, but my family is smart!). He is a family man. Absolutely the definition of family man. He has dedicated his life to his family and loves them and they all love him. His wife, Nadia is an amazing cook! She takes care of me like a mom when I stay with them. She did my laundry, cooked my favorite foods, and when I didn’t feel well, made me special foods and made sure I was comfy. I call her “Nadooshy” as a nickname, and also, Mama Nadia. We also talk and talk and talk when we’re together. She’s very clever and knows how to do all sorts of things really well. Oh and also, she alters all her clothes to fit perfectly and look stylish.

    How does this work?

Sitting around…

I love his smile!

Whew! Well, that’s my brother’s family. I’m at over 1,000 words and I haven’t told you about my sister’s family yet. So, I’ll tell you all about Julia and her family in my next post. If you have any questions about what you’re reading, just let me know. There’s a place at the bottom of the page for comments and questions. You don’t have to register to leave a message. Minshoofkoom ba’adaan! (See you later!)

Syria Today – Part II My Family (well, half of it) Syrians tend to have large families. Not so much today as in the past, but to give you a brief idea, I had eight aunts and uncles on BOTH my mom and dad’s side.

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A view of my village, Amar Al Hosn.

Ahla wa sahla a Souriya. Most days, I sit down to write, and words pour out of me like water. As I sit here writing this, my thoughts are so jumbled, it’s hard to even know where to start.

Maybe I should start by saying, “ahla wa sahla a Souriya” which means “welcome to Syria.” Maybe I should start with “nishkar Allah”, which means “thank God.” I’m not entirely sure how many times I’ve said “nishkar Allah” since I’ve been here. I’ve been thinking, “thank God I’m here, thank God I made it, thank God I still have a country and family to come home to.” Nishkar Allah.

My sister-in-law, Nadia, my brother, Zouzou, my niece’s husband, Wassim, and his son, Jado.

My great-niece and great-nephews; Jado, Nara, Laith, and Gibran.

My nephew’s wife, Rihab, my nephew, Shadi, and my niece, Shereen.

As I approached the village last Saturday night, I started crying tears of relief and joy. Maybe mostly relief, truth be told. For eight years, I wondered and worried if I’d ever see my family again. I saw terrible things happen to people on the news, and lay awake at night, praying to God they wouldn’t happen to my brother or sister, their children, or grandchildren. And finally, I was here, rounding the corner, turning onto the street where my brother lives.

The view from my sister’s house. My brother’s house is behind those trees in the middle. I know everyone who lives in those houses.

My driver said, “don’t cry, be happy. You’re here! Your family will be upset if they see you crying.” I got out of the car and saw my sister-in-law, Nadia, first. We started hugging and kissing and I started sobbing. Sorry folks. Full-on wrenching sobs.

Nara with Tata Nadia.

Wassim and Rihab are brother and sister.

Making lunch and smoking argheli.

Rihab and Shereen, hanging out.

First Nadia, then my niece, Shereen, my nephew, Shadi, and his wife, Rihab, my nephew, Danny, and finally, my brother, Zouzou. I tried so hard not to cry too much, especially all over my brother. He’s not super fond of overwrought emotion. When I finally stopped crying, I explained how relieved I felt. Oh, thank God, nishkar Allah, I finally made it.

My brother, Zouzou.

Wassim and his youngest son, Jado.

I love you, Jado.

Rihab and her daughter, Jouri.

That last five days have been filled with laughter, music, good food, and talking, talking, talking. If there’s one thing our people are good at (there are many things), it’s talking. The cool thing is though, we’re also really good at just sitting around together, not-talking, too. But ok, seriously, we’ve mostly been talking. We talk about everything. My brother has a veritable zoo now – a rooster, chickens, baby chicks, two geese, and a duck. Also, more traditionally, a dog. He has a large garden filled with fruits and vegetables. Then, there’s the weather. It’s been unusually cool and cloudy. This is the reason why it’s been a bad year for fruit. There has been much conversation about the bad fruit year. It’s disappointing in general, because the figs and grapes are shriveling on the trees and vines, but it’s specifically bad for the olives because that is the big money crop. There will be olives to press for olive oil this year, but no olives for eating.

More of the village.

From my Uncle’s patio.

Beautiful, old stone structures.

Another popular topic is “who is coming to the village and when are they arriving?” It goes something like this:

“Look, they’re cleaning Zakhour’s house.”

“Yeah, he’s arriving tomorrow.”

“Is his wife coming with him? How about the kids?”

“His wife is with him, I heard the two younger kids are too, but his oldest is coming next week.”

“Really? Hey, did I hear he’s getting married?”

“Yeah, he took a girl (took means “chose”) from Zweitini (a nearby village).”

“Oh yeah, min bayt meen?” (“from who’s house?” which means from whose family.)

“Min bayt Azar (the family name). You know Ibn Moussa (that’s “Moussa’s son”)?

“Ibn Moussa? Yeah, I went to school with his wife.”

(I just read this conversation to my sister and she said, “ibn Moussa? From Zweitini? Meen ibn Moussa min Zweitini?” and I’m laughing my ass off! So, I explained to her I’m just making up names to give you all an example of our conversations.) Seriously though, this type of conversation is repeated over and over throughout Syria, every day. For real, Syria is a place you can go where “everybody knows your name.”

Eddy and Merna, engaged to be married.

Massa, my newest great-niece.

My sister, Julia, and her granddaughter Naya.

A close-up, cuz she’s so darn, stinkin’ cute!

In addition to all these lively conversations, there’s “mut-tea” (yerba mate), tea, and coffee to drink; fruit, nuts, and seeds to snack on; and of course, cigarettes and argheeli (hookah) to smoke. When my brother told me he stopped smoking after his angioplasty last year, I told him, “bravo alaik (good for you)!” I just asked my sister-in-law about his surgery and she said so many men have had heart problems since the war. “It’s the stress,” I said. “Taba-aan.” (of course), she replied.

Lunch. French fries are everywhere!

Life is basically, pretty normal here now. Some things are worse, some things are better, and some have stayed the same. What’s worse? People are scared. I started to write, “more” scared, but then I realized that doesn’t work. Why not? Because it implies people were somewhat scared before the war, and then their fear level increased. This is inaccurate.

Jouri and her selfie-stick.

Before the war, there was no fear level. I know that sounds crazy, but it’s true. People didn’t worry about their personal safety before the war. In the village, the worry is pretty much gone. It went away about three years ago when the fighters holed up in the nearby castle (yes, I wrote “castle”) were defeated by the army. I would say that for our village and the surrounding area, it marked the point where life began to return to normal.

Hanging with my great-nieces and nephews; Jado, Jouri, and Laith.

These days, children go down to the school yard every evening (called the “naadi”) and play with each other. Kids as young as four or five all the way through high school hang out there from about 5 p.m. to 11 p.m. Kids go by themselves in groups and are unsupervised. People also feel free to travel from village to village in the dark now. This is a return to normalcy. Nishkar Allah.

Next up: My family.

Syria Today The first in a series about my recent trip to visit family in Syria. Ahla wa sahla a Souriya. Most days, I sit down to write, and words pour out of me like water.

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Seems like half my selfies happen in the airport. Bye Maddy! (and Joey and Peter.) Off to Syria. #cantwait but also, already missing my family in Portland. Why aren't Star Trek transporters a thing already? Let's get crackin people! #teleportme #syria #pdx #familyiseverything #flypdx (at Alaska Airlines - Portland Int'l Airport (PDX))

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This is the cutest, tiniest sand dollar I've ever seen. Yay sand dollars. #sanddollars #tinythingsarecute (at Seaside, Oregon)

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Like mother, like daughter...or, the asana doesn't fall far from the tree. #whatcomfalls #mommyandmetime #asana #playtime (at Whatcom Falls Park)

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Vini kickin' TP Special's ass. Go, Vini, go. Pa'lante is playing all over the place this summer. Check 'em out and salsa 'til your feet fall off! (at The Streets of Tanasbourne)

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Vini kick in TP Special's ass. Go, Vini, go. Pa'lante is playing all over the place this summer. Check 'em out and salsa 'til your feet fall off! (at The Streets of Tanasbourne)

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So excited. One more grocery run, prep the food, clean the house...being able to do the things we love is such a gift. #اهلاوسهلا #syriancooking #syrianculture #syrianculturalevent (at In My Kitchen)

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If you're free on Saturday at 11am, let me know if you want to come over for Syrian lunch and baklava making. Everyone takes baklava home and eats a full lunch. I'll be talking about Syrian culture and showing things I've brought home from my trips. I'm going this summer so if you want me to bring something back for you, now is a good time to see what may be available. I'm charging $65 for the lunch/baklava making and will use the proceeds to purchase goods for people in my village. #syrianculture #syrianlunch #baklava

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Some people dream big. Others dream of laying in a hammock watching baseball. Today, all my dreams came true. (at My Backyard)