Monday, May 23, 2011

Daydreams and Nightmares

House Call: My yearly visit to one of my homebound patients.
Patient: Are you taking a vacation this summer?
Me: Yes
Patient: Where are you going?
Me: To Lebanon
Patient: Is that where you are from?
Me: My wife is from there, I am Syrian.
Home attendant:  Where is that?
Me: In the Middle East (in my head: Aakh! If I had a penny for every time I heard that question I would be a millionaire!)
Patient: I would love to go there, but they hate Americans don’t they?
Me: No they don’t…So how is your back pain? 

Driving back to the hospital I listen to Lina Chamamyan Ala moj el bahr. I am transported for a moment by her beautiful voice until ugly Youtube images from Lattakia, Banyas, Bayda and elsewhere rudely intrude into my daydream. My throat tightens, I reach down for the off button then hesitate.  Screw them, the bastards will not spoil my daydream.


Yazan said...

Funny thing is, for the nostalgic daydreaming of Syria, I usually resort to Bob Dylan. ;)

Hopefully, you'll also make it to Syria, in better times.

Abu Kareem said...

Bob Dylan invokes a whole different daydream for me. I guess "Times They Are A Changin" would be a good listen right now.

The Syrian Brit said...

Too right, my friend..
Screw the bastards... May they never spoil our dreams...
However, I am sure you are with me when I say that those ugly images you refer to will forever be burnt into our collective psyche, and will never be forgotten...

Abu Kareem said...

So good to hear from you my friend. By the way, your Corleone-Assad matchup was perfect!

And yes Mr. Oxford English dictionary, expendable is what I meant ;)

The Syrian Brit said...

Sorry, Abu Kareem.. Didn't mean to be a smart ass, but I am a a bit of a stickler with these things!..

Sammy said...

From my college days in Louisiana.
Used to do night shifts at 7-11 to help support myself: It's 1.00am and am standing behind the cash register. This regular factory workers puts his six pack on the counter and says he usual hello how are you. I take his money and give him his change, he looks at me and says: 'I have been meaning to ask you, where are you from?'
Me: 'I am Syrian'. He nods then retorts: 'hmmm...where is that?'. I look at him thinking this guy has no idea what's outside of Louisiana let alone the U.S: 'Syria is somewhere in the middle east'.
He hesitates few seconds, picks up his six pack: 'How far is the middle east by bus?'.

No joke, honest!