http://www.iol.co.za Damascus - Beaming proudly at his restored 18th-century house, Hekmat Shatta is one of many Syrians flocking back to the historic quarters of Damascus - the oldest continuously-inhabited city in the world - in search of their roots.
Capital of the Umayyad Empire from the seventh to eighth century before the rulers' power base moved to Spain for the next 300 years, the once-walled area of Old Damascus is experiencing a residential, cultural and night-life revival.
Decades after the area lost many of its inhabitants - lured by the smarter parts of the expanding city - many are now returning to what they see as their natural home.
"Going back to the Old City is a natural phenomenon; it has to do with a desire to recover our Islamic architectural heritage, which has deteriorated," said Shatta, who in 1997 pioneered a "campaign" by moving to a house near the ancient gate of Bab Sharqi.
His move has been echoed by others, some seeking their own home sanctuaries, others seeing the old houses, with their courtyards and spacious rooms, as ideal for restaurants and a revival of the hospitality of Arabian nights.
About 50 houses have already been renovated and transformed into restaurants, such as the popular Elissar, the Ottoman house of Arabesque, and the vaulted halls underneath the old city.
A Paris-educated architect, Shatta worked meticulously to preserve the authenticity of his typical Middle Eastern house, which resembles his childhood home at Bab Touma (Thomas Gate), among the remains of the Roman Wall.
"I have a similar story to many families in Damascus who in order to be modern and fashionable left the Old City under French rule," he said.
"Living here was a sign of under-development".
The old narrow streets, thronged with traders, shoppers, donkeys, bicycles, and horn-hooting taxies, had lost none of their frenzied bustle during the day despite the 20th century exodus of residents.
In the ancient Hamidiyeh Souq, shoppers have always crowded the lanes crammed with stalls, stacked with Damascene tablecloths, cheap clothing, daily necessities competing with gold and jewellery.
The same constant commerce was also always evident in the courtyard of the ancient khan, or caravanserai, where countless sacks display colourful scented spices, replacing the camels that used to rest there as their trading owners stayed overnight upstairs.
But for many Syrians, who are so proud of their capital, the Old City was not a place actually to live.
Its wealth of history - the tomb of Saladin, the magnificent Umayyad Mosque where the head of John the Baptist reputedly rests near the shrine containing the head of the Shi'a martyr Ali Hussein, the palaces and khans - could not compete with the lure of modernity.
This has changed and the old houses are being reclaimed.
Despite their plain exteriors, many open onto sunny, spacious courtyards with fountains and orange trees. The white-stone buildings with spectacular, fresco-covered, ceilings are filled with light, contrasting starkly with the shadow and shades of the narrow sombre lane outside.
There now appears almost a frenzy to rediscover the Old City, with scores of entrepreneurs turning historic houses into pubs, restaurants and hotels.
Architecture enthusiast Maya Maamarbashi plans a luxury hotel in one such historic property, hoping to run a lucrative business offering modern comforts in a traditional setting.
Culturally, the new restaurants mesh well with the traditional cafes once animated with the hakawati or story tellers, drawing the crowds to hear them recount Syrians favourite tales.
The old, renovated houses now offering food, music and dance, have become the hub of lively night life, attracting students, artists and intellectuals.
"Old Damascus represents a lifestyle. It is our identity, our collective memory and a place to meet people," 20-year-old art student Dalia said, sitting with friends in the courtyard of Aal Bal cafe.
"The growing interest of Syria's trendy youth will help preserve Old Damascus". |