Paper
Syria, a police state, unashamedly so I believe (so I'm hardly saying anything controversial) likes to do its bit, like so many of us, to make sure there's enough paper floating around to give the trees a fright.
Actually, my experiences of India's bureacracy persuades me that democracies also like to wrap us up in pointless forms and notices. So I suppose I should be fair and underplay the police state connection.
Still, since arriving in Syria, everyday my passport has been photocopied by my hotels. But leaving Deir-Ez Zur, I had to give my name and occupation and of course show my passport twice, both to the ticket office and to some friendly policemen in their own little booth. Of course, they may have asked for such details lovingly in case there was a crash and they needed to know who I was -if for example my passport were wedged unreachably beneath my immovable body. I'm inclined to think, however, that it was so they could know where I'm going and keep a trace on me. About this I have two things to say. Firstly, that since this is their country, they can do as they wish, and I do suppose after all that it's possible that I'm a subversive threat intent on all manner of nastiness. Secondly, that if it is true, why, I am flattered. Never that ill-diposed to the allure of attention seeking (just ask my school friends what I did in assembly when I was 17), it is charming to think that I have all these people interested in me, and all for doing nothing.
I have also heard that the internet is closely monitored in Syria. Yes, yes, I know, this may happen in Britain too, even before any attempts officialdom might want to make to get legal permission to do so. But that doesn't mean it doesn't happen here too. Not that I know it does, mind. I'm just going from what Syrians and an expat living here told me. Again my thought is, wow, that's charming, added to a faint anxiety: I hope I'm not too boring.
Actually, my experiences of India's bureacracy persuades me that democracies also like to wrap us up in pointless forms and notices. So I suppose I should be fair and underplay the police state connection.
Still, since arriving in Syria, everyday my passport has been photocopied by my hotels. But leaving Deir-Ez Zur, I had to give my name and occupation and of course show my passport twice, both to the ticket office and to some friendly policemen in their own little booth. Of course, they may have asked for such details lovingly in case there was a crash and they needed to know who I was -if for example my passport were wedged unreachably beneath my immovable body. I'm inclined to think, however, that it was so they could know where I'm going and keep a trace on me. About this I have two things to say. Firstly, that since this is their country, they can do as they wish, and I do suppose after all that it's possible that I'm a subversive threat intent on all manner of nastiness. Secondly, that if it is true, why, I am flattered. Never that ill-diposed to the allure of attention seeking (just ask my school friends what I did in assembly when I was 17), it is charming to think that I have all these people interested in me, and all for doing nothing.
I have also heard that the internet is closely monitored in Syria. Yes, yes, I know, this may happen in Britain too, even before any attempts officialdom might want to make to get legal permission to do so. But that doesn't mean it doesn't happen here too. Not that I know it does, mind. I'm just going from what Syrians and an expat living here told me. Again my thought is, wow, that's charming, added to a faint anxiety: I hope I'm not too boring.
Speaking of paper and its nefarious relationship to tree slaughtering, does anyone have any statistics on how much less paper exists since the advent of the internet? You'd think there would be quite a bit less, but is there? I suppose, given the enduring sovereignty in so many circles of the 'original signature', carved by hand, not much may have changed, but what about all that personal correspondence that has now virtualised?
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