Bosra's Ruins
Trip Start
Jan 06, 2006
1
30
120
Trip End
Sep 02, 2008
Bosra,
Syria
Thursday, March 2, 2006
It seems like everything was coming to a close in Damascus. Act Five Scene Five, is it(?), that Romeo and Juliet are carried off the stage? Our theatre of coincidence as starcross'd travellers, with this cast anyway, had its final performance. Most of the travellers whom I had been chilling out with were also moving on. I had one last tea with Adrian, Phil and Arnika (Alex had left earlier that morning) - and then caught a bus towards Bosra, my last site in Syria.
My stars were lucky and I boarded a bus right away, and then found another in Dera'a (a stop over city) which left moments later to Bosra. I shared with two expat students who spoke decently fluent Arabic. The two of them and I had the same goal of seeing Bosra's ruins that afternoon. While the bus sped along, I listened to them converse with the locals on the bus and it was pretty impressive. They even used the ever popular "Yani" in their sentences. It means "I mean." It's like an Arabic 'Um.' Naturally, they were humble about their skills, but nevertheless I don't think I will ever speak Arabic so well.
I shared a feast with these women. All the while a dozen cats leered at us, and infrequently jumped up on the table to snatch a bit of something. We shared a roasted chicken and mezzes for about $2 each and then fed the last of the chicken to the cats. Yes, we knew that chicken bones are dangerous for them, but so is starvation.
We enjoyed our meal too much, and it was getting late in the afternoon. We decided to hurry up and explore the citadel theatre of Bosra, and luckily the attendant decided to stay open a bit late for us. This ruin may recall Edmonton's building of the same name, but it is far more appropriately named, because this theatre is also a castle. It was built by the Romans to be freestanding (most theatres were carved into hills and then finished with seats). Observing that as a theatre, with underground passages and such, it already had the essence of a castle, Arabs built towers and an outer wall after they conquered the city about fourteen centuries ago.
The theatre part is still the centrepiece of the ruins. The seats are intact and the stage has been restored, and the back wall is as tall as it ever was. The only change that it has undergone recently is that now one balcony has been converted into a sound booth. The underside of the theatre is densely packed with halls and vaulted ceilings, and the walls are slit with places to fire arrows, and little rooms for guards to live in. I was reminded of the Syrian police who lived in their barracks in Lattakia. Things haven't changed much for the military, it would seem. All along the main hallway, replica torch lights had been installed, each with a little fan and orange paper, to simulate burning flame. It looked pretty cool, but with so many little fans the hall had quite a din.
After seeing the citadel theatre, the women went one way and I the other. I wandered the nearby ruins of Bosara. The city was once made of black basalt. The ruins included, of course, a bath complex, an agora, a fountain. There are also some later era churches that have been converted into mosques, but these are not quite ruins.
Some parts of the ancient town are partially inhabited. Only the ruins of public buildings have been left in pieces. I saw a fellow untie a horse that had been hitched to a buggy in the style of a 2 person Victorian carriage. He let it graze in a rocky yard. Some of the remains of ordinary homes have been rebuilt but without the dexterity that the Romans used. Many walls are painted white. On the black stone it looks pretty sorry. It would probably look dirty even if the paint was fresh out of the can.
It was late by this time and the regular buses had stopped running. I hired one for about four bucks and half an hour later I was back in Dera'a trying to find a car for Jordan. I found one, although it turned out to be a bit more expensive than usual because I would be the only passenger. I gave the driver the last of my Syrian pounds, and even though it wasn't as much as it asked, not having any more money is a decent bargaining tool. After a bit of a wait at the station, and then a quick stop to pick up some cigarette cartons which he stuffed under the seats, we were off for Jordan.
