Security Manager

I think I wasn’t born to be an officer, but I was affected by the circumstances that surrounded me. I graduated from the Syrian Academy of Military Science.

It was a very hard job, dealing with different kinds of soldiers, hard training and exhausting duties.

I had no time for my family, especially my young boy and girl. They have suffered a lot because of my daily absence. I was far away from any social life as if life was neglecting me. I found that being an officer wasn’t my ambition so I decided to retire.

Nowadays, I feel much more comfortable in my social and family life. I work as a Free Zone Branch Manager in one of the most important companies in the country. I like my new job. I like to deal with people, travel abroad and organize meetings. The most important achievement I had is that I have more time to spend with my 4-year-old boy.

I’m glad about my decision because of the results I’ve got, and especially the financial benefits of my new higher salary. I can just say that finally I achieved success. - Rula H.

Diplomat

Diplomats are people who work in the shadows, the people always behind the politicians. To get a whole picture about the good and bad sides of the job, we are talking to a diplomat of Foreign Affairs in Damascus.

I’ve been working since the year 2000. In the beginning, I studied at and graduated from the diplomatic academy in my country, and after that I started to work as a third secretary. I did have a job before that. After I graduated from law school, I worked as deputy military prosecutor for two years, and then I joined the foreign service.

I’ve been working in Syria since December last year. Before I came to Syria I had been working in Iraq from 2002 to 2006.

The job of the diplomat is a complex one. It is divided into three main parts: multilateral diplomacy, bilateral diplomacy, and consular area of work. Within the first two, the work is generally portioned into three parts: political, economic, and legal parts. Consular duties address all kinds of legal and status issues for domestic and foreign citizens. Beside this, the job of the diplomat is to represent one’s country and to protects its interests, but always with the idea of promoting peace and boosting friendly relations among countries and nations.

There is no routine in the working day of the diplomat. Usually, I love to meet different people and discuss different topics, go to diplomatic dinners and receptions, watching the news, and so forth. For me, the biggest advantage is the fact that I’m paid live in a foreign country and to learn about the country and its people as much as possible. The disadvantages are many, for example one of them is not having enough time for family and friends.

It is a difficult profession and it is understandable that the family suffers up to a certain point, mainly because I don’t have enough time to spend with them, especially with my son. He’s almost two years old. But on the other hand, they have a rare opportunity to live in different countries and cultures that will enable them to see the world in all its varieties and to understand it better.

It’s hard to say that there is something like a proper reward for this kind of job, because we are mostly behind the scenes. Ordinary people hear about us only when we make some mistakes. It is very hard to measure who is ‘good’ and who is ‘not that good’ a diplomat. We might say that our best reward is when we do not make mistakes.

Would I choose the same career over again? I have asked myself this question and the answer is no. I like the dynamism that comes along with this job and my life would not be complete without it. I wouldn’t say that this job is something special and that diplomats are special people, but from my personal point of view, being a diplomat is a kind of job that suits me the most. - Sladjana M.

Private Driver

It was about six months ago when I first met Mr. Jaber. He was a private taxi driver. He told me a lot about his life in that month which I spent with him.

After 40 years of hard work, he was satisfied with his job. “I worked alone but everything in my life was arranged. Actually I spent a lot of time in my house waiting for a call from customers, then when they phoned me I used to hurry up to my Queen, that’s my beautiful Opel, to go to their address on time,” he explained to me. He had a strong friendship with his car, that Opel. “It was about 30 years ago when I first met her, that’s 10 years before meeting my wife,” he said to me jokingly.

He had a small flat in Almeedan and he was worried about his life. “Some customers pay a lot, but others don’t”, adding “when you become 70 years old and you don’t have any children or relatives except for a sick wife you should learn how to express your love,” he said to me impressively.

Actually Mr. Jaber was originally from Ram-Allah, but after the Israeli occupation he emigrated to Syria with his wife and started a new, hard life.

He told me that he would never forget all those flourishing nights in Ram-Allah before the occupation. “We were very happy. We used to spend all our money without worrying about anything because we had everything. But now everything has changed,” he said to me. He was very touched when he talked about his miserable life. “Dear son, you would never imagine how difficult to think every night you could live and survive especially if once you were the owner of a very big farm and a gorgeous house,” he told me while he began crying.

However, I think although he deeply suffers from his recent status, he still has that dream that someday he will return to his farm and house. - A. Otri

Guitar Teacher

I wasn't thinking of being a guitar teacher. Music was my hobby. When I was 17, I went to Russia to study electrical engineering, and for some reason, things were changed, and I decided to study music.

When I came back to Syria in the year 1986, I started to work in the Russian Cultural Centre in Damascus as a guitar teacher.

Being the only teacher there gave me the feeling that I am the master. No one tells me what to do and what not to do, therefore, I am the one who creates the rules for work and making decisions.

I start giving lessons at 4pm which is the most terrible hour, because at that time all my students are children! You need to repeat the finger positions ten times or even more. You try to explain and play the song many times, and when you ask them to do it, oh my God! As if they were not there ...

After that, all kinds of people come to learn how to play the guitar. Most of them are fine, but what annoys me is when someone insists on learning but doesn't have the musical sense. Such people have to repeat and practice so much, and in the end they become like machines. It is really difficult to tell them the truth.

They say that musicians are moody. Well, that's true, because sometimes I enjoy being a guitar teacher and I love that feeling when I see some of my students performing in a great way, when they are able to recognize what is right and what is wrong, what is being played correctly, and so forth.

What makes me upset is that I don't have enough time to concentrate on my music and make an album of what I am composing. That was my dream at the beginning, to be a music composer and have my own band.

Music is my life. I know it is not making me rich but at least it is making me feel great and no other job can make me feel the way when I play my guitar. - Zina Z

Sandwich Maker

I know a 33-year old guy whose work is to prepare shawarma sandwiches in a small shop for selling junk food near my home. Know what he tells me? "Maher, I am bored of all this! My daily life is the silliest one I've ever known or heard about. Every day in the morning I come here at 9 o'clock. I say good morning to many of the neighborhood shopkeepers without caring if they reply or not. Then I shout at the little guy in the shop who didn't finish the cleaning. Or maybe I will wait for him to come so I can explode in front of him for being late.

I put on my work gloves and clothes and then start preparing everything for the shawarma: separating the chicken steaks, cut some of them, put some of them on the shawarma bar, cut and put, cut and put, and it goes like that for four hours until 1:30.

I turn the fire on and start making the sandwiches. Customers come and order one, two, maybe ten sandwiches. But the job drives me crazy, especially when a sophisticated man comes in asking for five or six sandwiches, insisting that he wants two of them without pickles and one without ghee and the other two without tomatoes and with extra sauce. And I always have to remember all the special requests, and regardless, there are people who say, "I want my sandwiches first!" at peak times. They think I am a machine that can do everything at any time.

A machine? Who said that? That idea frightens me! I know there is no machine for making shawarma but at the same time I know that we are now in the 21st century and inventing a machine just like what gives Pepsi, Fanta, or Sprite for a coin is not impossible, so who knows? Maybe they will invent one for me to help me in my work or maybe they would fire me and replace me with this machine. Then I would stay home with my family every day for 16 hours instead of being in the shop making a living for me and five other people.

I would like to spend more time with my family and quit standing against the burning fire which kills me in the summer and makes me ill in the winter when the cold wind hits my back. What a great idea it will be to watch my little baby growing in front of me instead of watching the shawarma bar shrinking as I make sandwiches, but what can I do? I can't do anything else to make a living. I should accept my destiny as it is. - Maher S.

Indonesian Maid

It was last March when I traveled for the first time ever, away from my family, but I had to do it to support my family. That's why I signed a contract to work for a Syrian family. My seven sisters warned me about Arabs, and how their Caliph would make me his slave, and that his son would rape me. So I went to a doctor who gave me medicine which made me unable to have children anymore. When I got here, I was surprised that nothing bad happened, and I was told that there is no Caliph anymore.

I wake up at 8:30, have my breakfast, and start to clear up the house, which is a big one. At 1:30 I go to the fabric store this family owns to work there too, and I like going there more than cleaning the house because the merchant's children teach me a lot about trading. I finish cleaning, washing, and eat my dinner at midnight. That's when I go to my private room and look at my children's pictures.

I was expecting a higher salary, but I only get $100 a month, and this will only last for three years. Then I go back to Indonesia. I'll buy a house and a piece of land. Maybe I'll find a new husband, because my husband divorced me two months ago. I will save enough money so I won't have to serve anyone anymore.

What bothers me most about this job is that the merchant's family changed my name from Sariha to Mona, because my name doesn't suit their high class. I don't understand. I have lived with my name for 34 years and I never had to change it. Although I am illiterate, I don't believe my name affects their social position, and they won't lose their fortune because of it. - Ghoroub I.

Tea Boy

Here is the tea boy. Is he happy? I thought I was happy one day, but I forgot the meaning of happiness now. I'm thirty years old, divorced, with a five-year old kid. I left school at an early age and started working in different fields. I got married when I was twenty five and things didn't work out between me and my wife so we got divorced and she left the kid with me. She married another man after the divorce and traveled to the Gulf without asking for her son. I had to find a suitable job, so I had the chance to work in a well-known company as a tea boy.

The work is not bad but tiresome. I have to wake up very early to be on time. I work eight hours a day. My job is to prepare tea and coffee in the kitchen and then serve in the departments. I am not ashamed of my work but I don't prefer it either. You meet different kinds of people in such companies. Some of them are nice and polite whereas others are rude and selfish. I have to be very cool and smile all the time but I am sure every one of them knows how I feel towards them. You will not believe it if I tell you that some of the guys in the company became my friends. We eat our breakfast together sometimes, we joke and have fun. It's nice to have friends at work but this alone is not making me satisfied.

Do you know how much I get paid for this job? I get 6,000 Syrian pounds a month, which is not enough for transportation. I have to help my father in the cost of living because I am staying with my son in his house with two sisters and three brothers who are all out of school and out of work. I also have to work for my son's future which is the most important matter to me. I get exhausted by the end of the day and return back home in the evening to have a rest.

Unfortunately, when I arrive home depression is added to my exhaustion. My son waits for me the whole day to ask me, "Where is mama?" and those words kill me every day. I can't tell him that your mother has left because I am poor and she couldn't live in poverty but wanted a luxurious life. One day, this kid will understand my problem and the reason why his mother left him behind. He must know the truth and he needs someone to take the place of his mother and loves him. However, I may be hurting him in this way. I thought that by marrying a woman I can solve part of this problem but I may be wrong because I am afraid that during my absence she'll be torturing the kid and hurting his feelings.

Finally, I wish to say that my son can go to school and have a small loving family and a loving mother. I also wish to have my own shop no matter how small it'll be and to work in car accessories and spare parts because I worked in this field and have good experience. Moreover, a poor guy like me can't get whatever he wishes to, but at least I have faith in God and I hope that things will get better one day. - Shaline O.

Train Driver

This man is my grandfather. He is 88 years old. I suppose he is old enough to have rich experience in life. He told me so much that it is hard to summarize his long life in a few pages. Do you know what he told me?

Dear son, it is hard to remember amazing moments in your life. I still remember clearly my first day in the train station when I had a job as a driver between Damascus and Jerusalem. That was in 1937, a long time ago. I had two journeys every week, and that affected my social relationships. I didn't have enough time to spend with the people around me, and those in the station were my whole world. That never bothered me, because from the moment you put on your uniform, by the way we had to wear a dark blue suit, and turn on the engine, the excitement would start and last for three days, the length of time it took to come back to the point you started.

It was a great machine. I felt as if it were my home. I spent more time in it that what I spent in my home amongst my family. I shouldn't forget about my assistant, Ahmad. He accompanied me for thirty years. He was a kind man, but sorry to say he died ten years ago. He smoked more than our train.

Actually, I got a salary that ensured a middle-class life. I think my first salary was 25 Syrian pounds, yes, 25. It was enough for me to get all I needed and save a little.

I was known as the best driver. I got many awards from here and from the state in Jerusalem. I had driven that train for thirty years and in all circumstances and we succeeded in reaching our destination peacefully. I remember once we started our voyage from Damascus. It was snowing lightly, but after a few hours there was a really heavy and dense fog that prevented vision beyond our noses. I took a risk and decided to complete the trip because there were people who had to arrive on time. I was observant but not afraid. Finally after three days, we arrived to find people there waiting for us. Really, I felt so proud.

The downfall was in 1967 when Jerusalem was occupied. [I saw tears in my grandfather's eyes as he spoke]. That was the end. The train stopped and we shifted to another line. That time I felt as if something broke inside me, and I intended to resign. Since then, I am still waiting for a time when I will be able to visit that lovely city. - Douraid F.

The Waker

It has not been a long time since Ramadan passed. I remember when I was a child and for many ages before there was a person called the Mosaharati. He used to wander the streets at suhour time before sunrise during Ramadan, carrying a drum and singing a religious song trying to wake up the sleeping people for suhour, the meal before the fast. He used to knock on each house waking everyone up by his name, like "Abu Ahmad, wake up! It's suhour time," collecting his meal carrying his basket.

When I tried to talk with that person, asking him why he did that job, if he is really in need of this kind of work in order to support his family, he answered that he has ten children but his work doesn't give him enough money. So he is trying to work another job, and maybe it will help him. He told me that he wishes the whole year were Ramadan so he could work every day.

In addition to that, his father and grandfather worked in this job for a long time. Sometimes his son accompanies his father to learn how to deal with people and let him cope with that job since he is only a child. I asked him if he didn't choose that job, what else would he like to do. He answered that he liked that job and he felt as if his job was part of him. He told me that every member of his family appreciates and respects him even though he works in a job like this.

Nowadays we don't hear the Mosaharati in the streets, so we hope this carrier will not disappear. - Lina N.

Taxi Driver

Mr. Sami, a friend of my family, has been driving a taxi for several years. He enjoys his work because it gives him a chance to meet a lot of interesting people. Last week, for example, he met a famous movie star on the way to the Sheraton Hotel. He turned, smiled at her, and began asking about her films and the roles she played.

After a while, it was her turn to ask him, "Well, what about you? Tell me about yourself, Do you like your job as a taxi driver?" Mr. Sami was overjoyed. He loved talking about himself. So he started telling her about his experiences as a taxi driver. His favorite story was about a man who did not have any money and tried to pay his fare with cigars.

"I enjoyed the time with the actress," Mr. Sami told me. Well, that is not all. Such a job is full of things to talk about. For example, I asked him how he felt about Ramadan and the traffic jams. "Oh, one of the best things about it is that there is always a passenger in Ramadan, there is always money paid, since people have no other choice in the traffic jam but to take a taxi," he said laughing.

"However, the bad thing is that you miss your family. Imagine how it is in Ramadan. Yet you cannot spend enough time with your family, cause you have to work, you have to make a living, you have to buy new clothes for your children," said Mr. Sami in anger.

I tried then to calm him down and asked him, "Well, Mr. Sami, what is your big dream?" He smiled at me so I was able to catch his eyes shining with hope while saying, "I have always wanted to have my own driver's education school. It is a big dream that needs a lot of money and hard work to come true. Yet why not dream?" - Mai S.