The Dance Bus...

This is the second time in the Middle East that I've seen a mode of transport become a dance venue. The latest incident was while I was catching a bus ride from the Roman ampitheatre ruins at Bosra to Damascus with some Syrian university students. (See an earlier post titled "Istanbul" for the story of dancing on a train with Iranians.)

Dancing on the Syrian bus began in the aisle almost immediately and I and a group of fellow travellers were urged to participate. Not only was it a blast, it allowed us to observe some of the rules for interaction between men and women in Syria. For instance, the Syrian men on our bus could dance with female foreigners and Syrian women could dance with me and other male travellers, but Syrian men and women couldn't dance with each other. The reason, it was explained, was that dancing with foreigners was considered innocent fun while dancing between Syrians could potentially lead to something more serious. News of such behavior could get back to the dancers' families and cause problems.

At one point while I was dancing, I landed in an empty seat next to a young Syrian woman who was wearing a hejab. Men and women in Syria who aren't related don't sit next to each other, and the woman was visibly uncomfortable until the aisle cleared of dancers and I could move. A Kiwi in our group who was asked to have his picture taken with some of the Syrian women made the mistake of putting his arm around one of them. She stood rigid, not knowing what to do, and you should have seen the look on her face!

It all sounds frustrating to me, but that's just the way it's done here.

This is my last post from Syria. I'm on my way to Lebanon and will be flying from Beirut to Australia to visit my brother on Nov. 11. I've been promised homemade shepherd's pie upon my arrival Down Under!