The valley was charming, even when viewed from the hilltop; but the laughing water, the green foliage and the golden fruit have grown more and more beautiful as we have approached nearer to them. “Abana and Pharpar, rivers of Damascus,” are each divided into eight artificial channels, so there are sixteen small rivers flowing through the city, bringing fresh and sparkling water into almost every yard. The luxuriant vegetation of this well-watered valley is never scorched by summer’s fierce heat, nor chilled by winter’s frosty breath. It is a perpetual growth. Flowers and fruits are always on the trees, fragrance and music always in the air.
Damascus is the capital of Syria. It has one hundred and eighty thousand inhabitants, and a large manufacturing interest. As a commercial and distributing centre, it has no equal in the Orient. Great camel caravans are constantly arriving from, and departing for, Palmyra and Bagdad, and all the other more important cities of Persia and central Arabia. Being an inland city, hence unaffected by European thought and civilization, Damascus is exclusively Eastern; and is, therefore, the best place on earth to get correct conceptions of Oriental life and ideas.
Coming into the midst of the city, we find the houses are quaint and characteristically Eastern. From their appearance, one would suppose that they were built 1,500 or 2,000 years ago. Most of them are one story high, and are built of stone, and large sun-dried brick made half and half of straw and white clay. Sometimes a dozen or twenty houses are covered by the same roof. On going into some of these miserable-looking huts, we are reminded that “often in wooden houses golden rooms we find.” Some of these wealthy Damascene merchants live in style—not in American or European style, but in style after the Eastern idea. Their houses, though small, and rough of exterior are richly furnished. Frequently they are lined with marble. The walls and ceilings are beautifully frescoed, while the floor is laid with rich Persian carpets. And yet in these houses we find no chairs, tables or bedsteads. The merchants, though dressed in silks, sit flat on the carpet or on small mats. Their beds consist, usually, of pallets made of soft and beautiful Persian rugs. “A strange way for wealthy people to live,” you say. Well, yes, it is decidedly strange to you; but you must remember that your way of living would be just as strange to these Damascene folk.
The streets are exceedingly narrow, being not more than from nine to twelve feet wide. The stores or shops on either side of the street are little more than holes in the wall, usually about six feet wide and eight feet deep. The floor of this stall is twelve to eighteen inches above the ground. The end facing the street is open, while on the two sides and the back end, shelf rises above shelf. Goods are arranged on these, and also suspended from the ceiling. The customer, should one chance to come along, stands in the street and bargains with the merchant, who sits flat on the floor in the centre of the stall. With a hook in his hand, he, without rising, reaches to one shelf or another, and drags down such goods as may please the purchaser’s fancy. These people eat no idle bread. As soon as the customer is gone, the merchant continues to manufacture saddles, shoes, silks, or such goods as he may deal in.
I was never before so impressed with industry. Damascus is a great manufacturing centre. The people have no machinery—all work is done by hand, and nothing is done within walls or behind curtains. Caps and carpets, saddles and sabres, shoes and shawls, silks and safes, beds and baskets, and a hundred other things, are manufactured on the streets in the open air before our eyes. One entire street is given up to a single industry. For instance the street here to my right is called the shoe bazaar. It is probably a quarter of a mile long; and on either side of the street, from one end to the other, are men, women and children, seated on mats or flat down on the ground with their limbs folded under them. All are as busy as bees, sewing and stitching leather, making shoes. If one wants to buy a pair of shoes, he trades with the man who makes them. The merchant does not stop work, but talks without looking up.
Most of the manufacturers are eager to trade with Europeans and Americans, but some of them are so fanatical that they will not receive money from “Christian dogs.” Numerous poles are thrown across the streets, twelve or fourteen feet from the ground, from which strings are hanging. When the shoes are finished, they are tied to these strings and left suspended. Looking down the street, one sees hundreds and hundreds of shoes dangling in the air, about four feet from the ground.
Silk bazaars are numerous. Looking down these several streets, one sees many weavers seated on the ground, plying their shuttles. Above their uncombed heads is silk of every grade and color, suspended in the air and trembling in the wind. As with shoes and silks, so also with carpets, saddles, and other departments of industry.
The leading industry of Damascus is cabinet-making. The furniture made here is of the finest woods, and is inlaid with mother-of-pearl; hence it is perfectly exquisite and quite costly. Skilled artisans are to be found in these different departments of work. The best of them receive only from sixty to eighty cents per day, while craftsmen of equal skill, in our country, command four to five dollars per day.
Thursday of each week presents a busy scene at the donkey and camel markets. Hundreds of half-dressed and hard-looking camel raisers from the desert drive their patient beasts, old and young, into an open square in the midst of the city. Sellers, buyers and traders, wearing different costumes, representing different tribes and countries, meet. Going in among the camels, they catch, ride and drive them. The animals are priced, and trouble begins. The purchaser offers the seller one-third, or one-fourth of his price. This is taken as an insult. They quarrel, curse each other, and sometimes fight, the friends on either side taking part. Finally the difficulty is settled by an agreement to “split the difference;” so the camel is sold at half of the first price—frequently for less. Late in the evening they adjourn in much disorder. Turbaned Arabs now lead long trains of camels down different streets to the several gates of the city. To-morrow morning, at an early hour, these much abused “ships of the desert” will be loaded and started out on a long voyage across an ocean of sand.
The donkey-markets create less confusion. Donkeys, however, have no unimportant part to play in the daily life of Damascus. They are indispensable. They take the place of our drays, carts and market-wagons. One may look up the street at almost any moment, and see a pair of ears coming. This is regarded as a sure sign that a progenitor of the mule will be along after a while.