Find the Cost of Freedom

Saladin's castle

Amman 13.11.2011

As you probably understand, I am in Jordan, which in turn means that I got through Syria. Actually I got through Syria without any problems at all. Armed men checked my passport at times (once in the middle of the night), but after looking at the passport for some 10 or 15 minutes, they handed it back to me and left me alone.

Before I went to Syria, I gave Roger my promise not to go to any big town. As soon as I was in Syria, I regretted that I did, but I held my word, and stuck to castles, desert and Palmyra. The castles and especially the Crac de Chevaliers impressed me a lot. The Crac is so well preserved. It’s almost like stepping back in time.

Palmyra was “just another ancient roman city”, but it’s setting in the desert is lovely. In addition, the main site is not fenced, and has no opening hours, so you get both sunset and sunrise, and I even got to walk among the ruins to a full moon.

Typical Arabia

The one thing that annoyed me in Palmyra was the sellers. They drove around on small mopeds, so you couldn’t really escape them, and since the community depends heavily on tourists, they were (untypically for Syria), quite intrusive. There were no other tourists than me, except for a polish guy, bicycling from cape to cape, but none of us really entered the roll as rich souvenir-buying tourists with lots of space to carry scarves and necklaces.

Palmyra

Yesterday I arrived in Amman. The border took me four and a half hours, most of them on the Syrian side. I think they suspected me for something, because of my satellite telephone, so I sat for a long time and waited for permission to leave.

I found some friends in Palmyra

Due to the long waiting, I arrived in Amman first after dark, and had to find “second circle” in this two million people- city. I eventually did, and there Ragnhild picked me up with two friends, showed me a place I could sleep, and then invited me for pizza in her flat with three other girls. When I came, I was dead tired, but the food and conversation waked me up again. Big thanks to Ragnhild (and the other girls) to make my stay here very good.

Strange Palmyran skies

In my sleepiness upon arriving, I had managed to lose my car keys, and was not sure whether they were stolen or only lost. After a long search, a very helpful neighbor came with a saw, sawed open a gate, so I could park the car inside. I don’t meet many people I can communicate with, for my English was for little use in Turkey and Syria, but every once in a while I meet someone, and they are so often so nice, like that neighbor. I slept well, knowing Wombosi was safe, and found he key this morning.

Wombosi where he belongs

This is where my philosophy on the Arab women-culture would come, but the thoughts in my head are not quite sorted out for the screen yet. I’ll stick around the Arabs for some time to come, so maybe later.

Amman in the morning

Instead I can share some thoughts on freedom. What is it worth? Many people in the Middle East have found the cost for freedom buried in the ground, and it seems the same thing that happened in Tunisia, Egypt and of course in Libya could occur in Syria as well.

How much would I give for a democracy? Do we have freedom on Norway, or have we become so controlled by rules and restrictions that our freedom is an illusion? Everything we own steals our freedom. When I thought someone had nicked my car-keys yesterday I got worried about Wombosi. Is that freedom?

Crac de Chevalliers

Ultimate freedom is impossible to achieve with other people, because you get attached, and thus enslaved, but “happiness (is) only real when shared”. This quote was written by Christopher McCandless before he died. He had been in the wild and all alone for maybe two or three months when he wrote this. He had tried to find ultimate freedom, but figured that it had its costs.

I have already found that my trip is not pure freedom, and am already planning for a trip where I get rid of much more of the materialistic stuff I have now, and just take what fits into a backpack. The two things I won’t give up are relationships and love. That cost is worth it.

As for the freedom buried in the ground, only God knows what it’s worth. I guess a society never will be entirely free, but that does not mean that one should take everything either.

This is the song the title refers to. It is a tune originally by Crosby, Nash, Young and Still (written by Still), but to have a connection to PF, here’s the (beautiful) version by Gilmour Crosby and Nash: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U-Y0SMitMpk&feature=related