NVI Board Chair, Rafif Jouejati reporting from Syria
Day 10:
Last full day in Damascus: A few positive meetings and met some lovely people whose paths I should have crossed long ago.
This evening, heated debates about the
current situation. In the final analysis, we all came away with the same conclusions:
1. Support the current authorities during this delicate time.
2. Push back loudly when there are transgressions.
3. Either create employment opportunities or support employment initiatives. I also heard from a student representing many of his university peers (“we want to stay and rebuild, but we need jobs”).
4. Support civil society efforts by becoming active (or more active), encouraging organizations to collaborate, and highlighting the importance of including women at all levels of government and society.
5. Be Syrian - drop any sectarian narrative, try to actively listen to other perspectives, and unlearn habits that crept into our identities after so many decades of savage rule.
I am going to miss Damascus, and will be back in April. Hopefully my airport departure experience tomorrow will be as positive as my arrival was.
Here are some random photos: The Four Seasons Hotel, aka UN headquarters; the statue of Yusuf Al-Azmeh (battle of Maysaloon) (I think that’s correct and I’m sure better-informed people will comment if not); and a a Bee Order (food delivery - like UberEats or Glovo) driver.
Day 9:
Day 9 in Damascus: My favorite words have become يلعن روحك and النظام المخلوع. I repeat them while listening to the nightly gunfire from Mazzeh 86.
The
emotional roller-coaster continues as I swing between crazy optimism and depression at the thought of what it actually means to rebuild the country. As I said to an EU representative: “we are being asked to rebuild a country and comply with your priorities, all while being handcuffed by your sanctions.”
I have never before met (in person) people so resilient, so committed, or so generous. The cab driver who triples the fare upon hearing a foreign accent is helping his family and others. The kids selling tissues while dodging traffic are often their families’ breadwinners. Many people have two or three jobs, yet manage to volunteer to support families in need.
The other thing that hits hard: you can watch videos all day long, but it’s difficult to understand the extent of Assad’s savagery - against anyone and anywhere that opposed him - until you see it in person. Entire towns are reduced to rubble, the souls of thousands of dead whispering يلعن روحك
How could the world allow this to happen? How can the internationals continue to impose sanctions designed to punish النظام المخلوع؟
Tomorrow I will have the last of my meetings and take the photos that I promised to a close relative. My “listening tour” is almost over, and I’ve heard some great ideas for large and small projects that can by funded by Syrians, for Syrians.
FREE-Syria and all the other hardworking organizations have our work cut out for us.
And friends, get ready, we’re going to ask you to donate generously to giving campaigns for Ramadan and Easter.
Day 8:
Day 8 in Damascus: Yesterday, I was calling it a disaster. Today, I’m feeling extremely positive and am going to ramble a bit.
I believe there are enough Syrians willing to commit to this national experiment to make it happen. 
My conversations with people - from the highly intellectual to the political to the community organizers - make me feel that we are heading in the right direction. I met with quite a few young people who are clear-headed, ambitious, and capable. They’re
ready.
Today, there were more traffic police in Damascus and they were actually managing traffic. I saw more sanitation workers actually collecting garbage. It’s amazing what a smile and a thank you can do, while knowing that nearly all are hungry.
Despite my optimism today, I know that the road to Syrian-style democracy is paved with spoilers and other human land mines. We need to call out those who spread malicious rumors & misinformation and those who commit transgressions on personal freedoms. We need sanctions to be lifted.
FREE-Syria is going to undertake several initiatives and do our best to make meaningful contributions as all of us slowly but surely
#RebuildSyria. The bridge of freedom is here.
Day 7:
Day 7 in Damascus: Mostly administrative: I met with the excellent folks at BEMO Bank; they are offering competitive packages to nonprofit orgs. That’s a major step for
FREE-Syria when we can open an office here.
My trip is starting to wind down, but not without a flurry of meetings in the next couple of days with a variety of organizations and activists. We have a lot of work ahead.
The enthusiasm to
#RebuildSyria may ebb and flow, but I think President Al-Sharaa’s visits
have renewed peoples’ resolve. Let’s hope for a better future - the Syrian people certainly deserve it.
Here are some of my favorite pics from the past few days. Some are repeats, sorry!

Day 6:
Day 6: Walking tour of the Old City with one of my lovely cousins. I know a lot of people talk about how they have always loved Damascus. I never felt that way until yesterday’s walk. There was optimism and history and chaos all around me, and I fell in love.
Day 5:
Day 5: Here’s part of my walk around my old neighborhood and what’s left of the presidential palace, where kids found underground tunnels full of weapons on Dec. 9, 2024. More later.
Day 4:
Day 4 in Damascus - I discussed a few potential projects with a few very smart ladies (you know who you are!) and came away feeling very positive. We can and will create employment opportunities. I believe FREE-Syria (please check out
www.freesyria-foundation.org) can play a role, as will other civil society organizations like
بيتنا Baytna and
The Day After TDA اليوم التالي and a host of others. Today alone, I heard of at least a dozen small initiatives that committed Syrians
are implementing as part of their contribution to the rebuilding effort. But just as CSOs and small associations are critical to progress, sanctions are the biggest obstacle. Syrians need to do this themselves.
I spent the rest of the day in Jaramana, where community policing is in effect. I enjoyed listening to people who were free to express their fears, concerns, and disapproval of the current situation and the Al Sharaa government. While euphoria may have ebbed, the desire to express political opinions has not.
I heard alarming reports of breaches - attempted kidnappings and break-ins, segregation of men and women. In one reported incident, a husband and wife were in their car, with their kids, a girl and a boy were in the back. A random security officer demanded that the women ride in the back “because women cannot be seated next to men.” I learned today just how willing the people of Jaramana are to stand up for their rights.
The most interesting discussions centered around identity, and coincidentally, I will be attending a talk on identity tomorrow.
If we can be Syrian first and foremost, we can regain our identities. If we can respect all those who practice whatever religion suits them, we can regain a sense of security at some level. If we can join forces and uplift one another, we can take a huge leap into recovering from more than five decades of mistrust.
Video (again, poor quality) is from the drive into Jaramana and past the Jaramana Palestinian camp. The cab driver was hilarious. I also thought I took a video of the drive down Abou Roumaneh but realized I had forgotten to press record.
Day 3:
Day 3 in Damascus - feels like I’ve been here much longer! The limited hot water, heat, and electricity are humbling and make you realize how
important it is to be grateful for whatever we have.
Quotes from today’s conversation: “We’re afraid of Al-Jolani; he and his sort practice the wrong kind of Islam,” “I love Ahmad Al-Sharaa,” “why isn’t he communicating with the people?” Another: “Who is America to teach us lessons in democracy?”
I was told that but for their deep faith, Syrians would not have been able to survive the past 13+ years. Another person said, “We’re asking for a roof over our heads. We don’t need electricity, we don’t need internet. He (Assad) is gone. We just need a roof to protect us from the rain and cold.”
From others, I heard three consistent messages: “We don’t want sectarianism.” “Give us the electricity you promised.” “Where are the salaries?”
The displays of wealth (The Four Seasons Hotel, Emporio Armani, Zara - more like Zara on steroids) would be okay, except that less than 20 miles away there are suburbs that are totally demolished and people who cannot afford to eat. Once you’ve seen something, you can’t un-see it.
In the Old City, hauntingly beautiful dlespite years of neglect, an elderly woman - a stranger - kissed my face when I gave her some money. She said, and I believed her, that she had not eaten in 2 days.
Every walk and every visit brings tears of sadness and joy. Optimism and devastation are competing forces here.
Last night, someone told me, “if you want change in Syria, get involved.” They’re right.


Day 2:
Day 2 in Damascus: There is so much to reflect on - from the realities of having electricity for only 1 or 2 hours per day, to seeing extreme poverty all over
the city. The most common complaints I’ve heard so far: lack of salaries and lack of electric power. Don’t even get me started on the challenges of civil society organizations whose funding has been frozen or greatly diminished.
I spoke with a few young people who see no real hope for the future. The euphoria we all saw right after the collapse seems to be disappearing. But it’s only Day 2…hopefully I’ll hear more optimistic views from family and friends in the days to come.
On the brighter side, I was honored to visit the headquarters of A Drop of Milk Society, a 100+-year-old institution that provides the neediest of families with baby milk and medical care. I’ll write more about نقطة حليب in a post at
www.freesyria-foundation.org in a few days.
Here’s a photo of what’s left of the passport office. The taxi driver I spoke with said, “it was 100% the Israelis. When they burned the building, they burned our souls.”

Day 1:
Warning: very amateur video from a car
What Assad left behind: devastation.
“Reconstruction” sounds like it’s about patching up a few buildings. It doesn’t convey
the thousands of families living in stairwells in the bitter cold, or the number of souls lost, their bodies decayed under the rubble. This little video doesn’t even show the worst of it.
What were those sanctions doing?