it is hard to believe, but even in shot-to-pieces Homs there is the occasional burst of colour
there is nothing, absolutely nothing, attractive in this post; yet I have to share this – with far too many photographs, I agree – because it is so impressive, and so sad.
The entry into Homs is humbling. I have seen ruins before, last in and around Aleppo, but the destruction of the outskirts of Homs is beyond comparison. Everything has been shot up, houses collapsed, burned out. This compares badly to the effects of the Indian Ocean tsunami of 2004 or the Haiti earthquake in 2010, the results of which I both witnessed. And those were natural disasters, this is what men did against each other.
the outskirts of Homs
and once again, the outskirts of Homs
a shopping centre, frame only left
except that somebody has set up a cafe, with an appropriate name (actually, serving Dome Coffee – an innocent mistake?)
aftre the suburbs, entry into Homs proper – the difference is hard to see
just one other apartment building, with rather recent window additions
a bombed-out apartment building where, from a satelite image and the solar panels, it appears are still people living
say no more….
The narrative? It is explained to us that people were demonstrating against the local mayor, who strictly enforced building laws, and had torn down buildings that had been built too high. The demonstrators were surrounded by police, with truncheons only, no weapons!!, when snipers started to shoot from the roofs, obviously rebels. More than 200 people died in the demonstration – only from snipers, remember? But the people believed that it was the government, and initiated a more than a year-long battle between Sunnis and Alawites. Just like that, they started to kill each other – where they got the weapons from, the narrative doesn’t tell. The bombed each other’s neighbourhoods; where they got the bombs from, the narrative doesn’t tell. One thing is for sure, the terrorists occupied the central part of the town, and the government never got involved. But the damage we see is more, much more, than just two groups of town citizens that fight each other.
(The Wikipedia page on the Siege of Homs mentions fighting between Alawites and Sunnis, but not a local cause of unrest, just the Arab Spring and nationwide anti-government protests, leading to a particularly nasty episode of the civil war from 2011 to 2014, with different neighbourhoods occupied by opposition forces and government troops at different times, who kept on shelling each other. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Siege_of_Homs)
the new ‘old’ mosque, fully restored
inside equally new
the congregation praying for a better future, perhaps?
the neighbourhood in front of the new ‘old’ mosque, not yet restored
the only shops here are cloths spread out on the street
We take a walk through town, starting at the old mosque and ending at the old church. I suspect that this is the standard walk that has been done for years, especially before the crisis. But the mosque then was the old mosque; now, it looks new, repaired, restored. In the old days the town would have been lively, with lots of people, shops. Now, we walk in between the damaged buildings, burned out apartments, collapsed roofs. I realise that the destruction is not just limited to the outskirts of Homs, it is everywhere – even our Ukrainian group members, who must have seen a thing or two, are humbled. I cannot describe it, it makes me cry. As always, you read about this, from the comfort of your home, your armchair, but seeing it puts things in a whole different perspective.
there used to be nice old buildings, too, in Homs
and another old building, apparently partly surviving
and more damage, I just have to show all this
the inside of a former shop
the normal street view, these days
impressive building, equally badly damaged
more damage, made prettier in the late sunlight
and another one, same sunlight, same degree of damage
followers of this site probably know that I like to show photos of windows – but never before have I taken a picture of such a decrepit one
few shops operate in town, so commerce is mostly from improvised structures on street corners
the ‘old’ church, also fully restored
and the inside, complete with no doubt very expensive chandeliers
The old church, at the end, and the Jesuit mission where a Dutch priest was assassinated days before the violence stopped, they have been restored, too; repaired again after the war damage. A far cry from their original attractiveness, I suppose, but still, they are operating once more. Where the money for the rest of the reconstruction of this town needs to come from is anybody’s guess. It will take a very long time for the visible traces of conflict to have disappeared from the street view. Luckily, everybody here loves the government.
And yet, there are also traces of recovery. Small shops have opened, often in between the piles of rubble. A distant balcony supports some flower pots and laundry, where the neighbouring apartments are still empty, open, blacked from fire. A old house is being repaired into a boutique hotel, very stylish. Residents gather in the evening, for shisha and tea. There is hope. Even for the four boys I met, who, when they hear I came from Holland, asked me if I couldn’t arrange asylum for them – they were, somehow, less charmed by their government. When I told them ‘no’, they didn’t protest, just asked for dollars instead.
next: world-famous Palmyra
my favourite picture of hope, in between the burnt out apartments somebody has estab;lished himself again, or herself, flowers on the balcony
some business man is turning the shell of this old house into a boutique hotel
late afternoon, locals enjoying shisha outside a bar
a pretty undamaged minaret
amongst all the damage, this lamp has survived
and the young of Homs, in the evening: they will have to carry this city forward
