What’s with the snow?

(Written from Syria, 16 March 2007)


Well, the major shock of this week is that as I write this email I’m looking out to a garden where the tortoises are cowering because it is SNOWING. It seems to me that I’ve moved to the Middle East under false pretences. How am I going to get the pasty skin to a mild coffee-colour with no rays?

Last week it wasn’t snowing, but I was lying on the sofa, watching some rubbish TV. I remembered that I was making chicken stock and hadn’t checked it for about 2 hours so was probably about to cause major embarrassment by burning down the building. I ran (like the wind) down the corridor. I turned to go in to the kitchen and forgot that Mr A had closed the door earlier to stop the whole apartment smelling of chicken bones. And, yes, I ran head-first into the door. Fortunately, I sustained only minor bruising to my nose and a stubbed toe, and got a huge spot on my nose shortly afterwards so you can’t really see the bruise for the carbuncle upon it.

We went to the Crac des Chevaliers last weekend – a huge crusader fort on top of a hill. Apart from the numberplate falling off our car (it’s back on now), everything was good. They had a carpark that golfers might enjoy. Mr A had a particularly good day – a Syrian girl also visiting the Crac took a shine to him and asked to have her photograph taken with him. I’m pretty sure that her photograph is now poster-sized next to her bed. Apparently Mr A made a ‘very funny’ joke to her, something about him wanting a fee. Maybe that’s why she then followed us around for a while.

Mr A has also been taking lessons in Arabic swear-words and has a test on them next week. His personal favourite is a hard-to-pronounce word that literally means to stick your finger up someone else’s bottom, the closest equivalent in English being, we think, to piss someone off. Other innovative uses of language include ‘may god destroy your house’ and the timeless ‘son of a dog’.

And finally…. I beat Mr A at pool last night (and in one break potted 3 balls). All that hanging out in Peckham pubs rather than revising for A-Levels obviously paid off.

Insh’allah, all is well with all of you…