Josh Visits a Syrian Brothel; Hilarity Ensues

Ok, let it be prefaced, no prostitutes were used, even for research purposes, for the making of this entry.

So yesterday, I was wandering the souk, and kept seeing these camera flashes from an alley. I tried to see who it was, because it was obviously another tourist, and since it was friday, the souk was deserted; i've run into so many people i've met from other parts of the region that I figured, how funny it would be if it was someone I knew.

Turns out it was Dave, the 33 year old British accountant who I went to a wine tasting and ruins with in Northerne Lebanon. So, we went and visited the citadel together and grabbed lunch, which consisted of sujok, or sausage spiced and pressed between bread, and another dip made of pomegranate molasses, spices, and some kind of bean.

We split up for a bit, him to go check his mails and me to go get my hair trimmed and my face shaved by this old man with a straight razer. It was a religious experience-- the italian I went with said I looked like I had just been baptized after I came out, all trimmed and clean and smelling like the rose oils they rub on your face and hair.

Ran into a shitload of archeologists at the hotel, who had just finished a dig in Syria. They told me that Brown University runs one of the big digs in Petra, and that last year, they stole the Brown flag that was hanging ostentatiously over the site.

Left the hotel with the Italian I'm rooming with to meet with Dave to go have a drink at the hotel TE Lawrence and a bunch of other famous people drank at, and then to dinner. But while we were drinking, we ran into these two Australian girls I met in Damascus. We drank a bit, and then decided that we could skip dinner and instead start drinking.

So, after going up to their hotel room and finishing a pint and a bottle of vodka, we say to ourselves, "lets go clubbing".

Questionable decision #1; all the reputable dance clubs in Aleppo close at around 11. It's now 12:30.

We wander the streets trying to find a dance club. So, I ask these two fifteen year old boys where a club is. They look at me, then at the Australian girls , then at me. Then start laughing.

"Wait," I say, pointing at the club in the distance. "Bitch?"

They manage to nod their heads while cracking up.

So, I turn to my people. "There aren't any dance clubs in Aleppo... but there is a brothel. Should we go?"

Questionable decision #2, we all nod in agreement.

So that, my friends, is how Josh ended up in a Syrian brothel, drinking strawberry beer with a complimentary fruit plate because his Australian friends showed a little more than necessary cleavage.

The brothel consisted of a big stage, with discoballs above it, where fully clothed prostitutes were swaying to the live band behind them. Then, they get off stage, make their rounds while American music videos play on a TV behind the stage (appropriately, one of the videos was 'hoes in different area codes" by Ludacris). Then the girls get back on stage and dance again.

It has to be said that at this point, we're all trashed. We've finished a considerable amount of vodka, and then the Australian girls have moved on to Arak, the anise flavored liquor ubiquitous to the region. So, we're watching the girls dancing...

Questionable decision #3: the Australian girl shoves back her chair and says "fack it, i'm gonna dance".

So, this is how Josh finds himself watching his new friend dancing with a bunch of prostitutes in aforementioned Syrian brothel.

Eventually, I made it back to the hotel, and that was that. But now, I've been to a Syrian brothel, and no one can take that away from me.