Pets in Syria

Yes, Pets in Syria.

I know what you are thinking, dear reader. I can easily anticipate your reaction. How can this brave young writer possibly churn out such cutting-edge, newsworthy reporting that lackeys in the Major Corporate Media are afraid to touch? You must wonder: how can Kicky Sack put himself in peril just to get the big story, to wrap his Cheetos-stained fingers (© 2006 Frito-Lay North America, Inc.) around throbbing pulse of Syria, check it for ring-worm, and then deliver it to your Personal Computer?

I must admit, such work isn’t easy, for I put myself in the Hot Zone every day, for you dear reader, because I am very hot. (Imagine a fancy flame behind the word Hot, perhaps a target, or some smoke, and of course my handsome profile behind the word Zone)

Yes, to obtain the information on this post - Pets in Syria – I had to go undercover as a short-haired Schnauzer and endure eating my own feces for three days as a means not to ‘blow’ my cover; I was forced to kidnap myself at gun-point; driven to hand out bribes to several top-pet store owners; needlessly kill seven cats; and go as an embedded reporter with the 5th Armed Battalion of Large-Animal Veterinarians; and feed a suitcase full of Sodium Pentothal (a trademark of Abbott Laboratories) to an unsuspecting camel. So you better enjoy this post.

So what is the scoop on pets in Syria?

Dogs: Not a lot of dogs here. This is a cultural/religious thing. On one hand, saying ‘what up, dog’ to someone in Arabic does not go over well here. In terms of religion, dogs are not looked upon with warmth in some Islamic circles. This, however, does not imply that they deserve death, as some Imams have taught, but rather they might not be deserving of $2,000 worth of dental work to reset an unfortunate over-bite as sometimes occurs in the United States. The small Christian areas do, however, have ‘inside dogs’ and people walk around with dogs from time to time. Also, more upper-class Muslim areas also have people with dogs every once and awhile. (I'm sure I'll get some e-mail for this whole dog and Islam talk . . . believe it or not, I've actually read a fair amount about this issue - here's a link before you get all huffy at me:
http://www.islamicconcern.com/dogs.asp) (sorry, I couldn't get the hyperlink to work - so cut and paste)

Cats: I live next to a cat farm. Not an official cat farm, but more of a cat settlement or perhaps retirement home. Cats are very powerful here. I think they are Unionized. Once a week two old ladies come along with big bags of meat and feed the cats, then the cats shit everywhere.

Birds: Lots of birds in cages hanging around in public here. I, for one, hate birds. I don’t mind flying birds but I can’t deal with them up close. In short, they freak me out and I’m a little afraid of them. I’m not joking.

Anyway, my neighbor has a whole pigeon . . .I’m not sure what to call it . . . collection? No. Team? Well, he makes them fly around and come back and he whistles at them like a basketball coach, but team doesn’t work. Flock, he has a flock. Sorry, dear reader, my English is deserting me while my Arabic is only decent: this is the hellish linguistic nightmare that I call my life.

Whatever, the man has got a lot of birds and most afternoons he’s out on his roof sending them around bringing them back. I’ve heard about some fierce competition between people who do this – that people ‘steal’ each other’s birds and sometimes this causes some strife and arguments. I can’t independently verify this information. But let us pretend it is true for the sake of entertainment.


Camels: No one has a pet camel in Damascus. I know horrible and racist Middle East stereotypes often involve camels, but I’ve only seen Syrians making money off this western notion at tourist sites: trying to entice one into agreeing to an expensive ride. That being said, some of the Gulf satellite stations show camel racing and then a pack of SUV’s outside the track, following the camels and kicking up dust. I actually enjoy watching these races on the TV and hopefully I’ll be able to catch a real-life race one of these days.

5 Random Thoughts on Life in Syria

1.
Socks!!! I don’t know why, but I find that everyone is trying to sell me socks on the streets of Damascus. I’ve never been anywhere where socks are so readily available. I’m always confronted with little old men, chain-smoking and trying to hawk socks. I’ve bought a few pairs. Not bad.

2.
I went to a very nice restaurant recently and noticed something rather odd. The restaurant is pretty ‘high-class’ and I even know some kids from Austria who saw the Syrian President dining with his family at this place – point being that this place isn’t Applebee’s or some shithole. Anyway, we finish a great meal and the always-hovering ‘staff’ begins to clear the table. In some ‘fine dining establishments’ in the States I’ve seen waiters with ‘crumbers’ these little things that quietly pick up bits of food on the table. Well, this restaurant doesn’t do ‘quietly’ . . . after we finished our meal (which was amazing by the way – the food here is by and large good, I’ve been impressed) I noticed this waiter with a ‘dust-buster’ in hand. Yes, dear reader, he DUST-BUSTED the table of loose crumbs. It was very loud and I was beyond entertained. I love this kind of stuff.

3.
Straws. I don’t know why – but Syrians seem to love straws. Maybe this is more common all over the world and this isn’t a Syrian or even a Middle East thing – I don’t know. I do know this: waiters in restaurants look at me like I’m a freak-show when I don’t use my straw. Even if I only bought a soft drink in a store, I find that the man behind the counter tries (in vain) to give me a straw. I hate using straws in ‘open’ containers. If I’ve got a lid, sure, gimme a straw. Milkshakes – okay, I can see the need of a straw there. But a straw for everything? Not into it.

4.
Eyebrows up, sometimes accompanied by a click of the mouth means NO: I’ve been here a few months and I’m sometimes still a bit slow to read this one. I’ll say a destination to a cab-driver and rather than saying “No” in Arabic or shaking his head, he’ll give me a “eyebrows-up-whatever-look” and sometimes it takes me a few beats to recognize that he said “No – I’m not going that way.” From what I understand, this is a Syrian thing, rather than the spread across the whole Arab world. I can’t wait to take this back to America and offend strangers and friends.

5.
Sometimes when I’m chatting with Syrians, not necessarily friends but random people in restaurants, shops, cabs, etc., I’m confronted with “Which is better?” question. “Are the girls prettier here or in America?” “Do you like America or Syria more?” I hate this line of questioning. I don’t want to measure these things and even if I did, I wouldn’t know what criteria to use. I mean, what would I say? . . . . . . . . YES! I’ve found that Syrian woman score higher on the beauty per-cubic inch index than their American counter-parts? Or, I like America more because the soft-serve ice cream is 2.3 times better in terms of richness and smoothness when compared to leading Syrian vendors?