HAMA APAMEA AND QALA

HAMA, APAMEA AND QALA’AT ASH-SHMAMIS

This weekend we stretched the limits of our northern range a little further. On Friday we set off for Hama 47 kilometres north of Homs, which is really about as far as you can travel comfortably in one day if you want to see things, even without taking into account the supreme degree of discomfort involved in riding in the Peugeot car! Robert had managed to get a hotel reservation at the Noria Hotel and, if that should work out well, it would give us the freedom to use Hama as a centre for exploring the central and northern regions a little better. So, we were anxious to discover what kind of accomodation the hotel would offer and whether the staff would take kindly to Simon.  They had accepted him when the reservation was made, but you never know ...  Fortunately, things went well on every score.  The hotel is small but clean and fairly comfortable, and the owner, Badr, who studied pharmacy in Dusseldorf, is crazy about dogs.  While he was a student in Germany, he had a doberman and he never got over having to leave the dog behind in the care of German friends who kept him till he died when he returned to Syria.  

The prospect of having a secure base from which to explore meant that seeing Hama itself was not our top priority, so, after tea with Badr who furnished us with reliable instructions on how to get there, we set off for Apamea which lies about forty kilometres north-west of Hama.  Apamea was founded when the area was conquered by Alexander the Great and finally acquired its name, after a number of changes, when it was named after Apama, the wife of the Seleucid commander.  It then became the third city of the Seleucid empire after Antioch and Seleucus, another city on the Tigris.  The city was a main military garrison, near enough to be able to call in the troops to Antioch if necessary but far enough away to keep the military from meddling where they were not wanted, and, thanks to the abundant grazing available in the surrounding area, it was also used as a stud farm, supply depot and training area.  Apparently at its height 30,000 mares, 300 stallions and over 500 elephants are recorded as having been stationed there! In antiquity the temple of Bel and the oracle of Apamea were famous as far away as southern France, and Apamea wine was also renowned for being mixed with honey. The town was conquered by Pompey and continued to prosper well into the Byzantine era when it became a bishopric.  

This was once a vast city, but today the principle remains are the colonnades which lined the streets.  Only two percent of the surface has been excavated so far, and it is unlikely ever to be excavated in its entirety as the area involved is so great.  The modern tarmac road  roughly follows the route of one of the ancient decamani, running east to west through the ruins.  The main colonnaded thoroughfare still standing is the cardus maximus.  The city was laid out on the grid pattern and this is still evident today.  To the south is a short row of columns, some of which have recently been excavated, and the difference in colour between the golden stone of the recently uncovered sections contrasts sharply with the blackened sections which have been weathered over the centuries.  The other remains on the southern side are those of a round church and an atrium church as well as a cathedral all dating from Byzantine times.  

The majority of the remains are on the northern stretch and it takes about two hours to walk the length of the colonnaded cardus maximus which is about 1.85 kilometres long and, consequently, longer than both the road at Palmyra and Straight Street in Damascus. The original thoroughfare was 37.5 metres wide with a 20.5 metre centre section for wheeled traffic and the equivalent of pavements either side for pedestrians.  The paving of the centre section is rougher than the pedestrian walkways which are paved with quite smooth stones.  As we walked down the colonnade we could see the mark where chariots and carts had worn down the stone leaving their imprint there over hundreds and hundreds of years of use.  This certainly was a busy place.

On the north side the remains of the forum are still to be seen, though not nearly so intact as those at Palmyra.  The remains of the temple of Zeus, which was dismantled in the fourth century by the bishop, are visible too, but the best preserved set of remains is the baths where the plumbing system is still intact and visible through the various holes which have appeared in the place which, like all the other ruins, no longer has a roof.  The city was once surrounded by over six kilometres of defensive wall with several gateways.  The northern gateway is still standing.  


However, the most spectacular feature about the ruins at Apamea is undoubtedly the columns, particularly the sections in the northern part where the columns are fluted and spiralled.  This makes them look more graceful and lighter, because, on the whole, the columns at Apamea give a heavier impression than those at Palmyra, perhaps because of the massive bases of some of them, although it must be said that the carving is beautiful. Some of the columns also have brackets for statues similar to the ones on the columns at Palmyra, but there are not so many of them.  I suppose this is because Apamea was a military centre where institutional propaganda would have been the order of the day rather than the ego trips of the big merchants at Palmyra who erected statues of themselves and their families to show everyone who had  what and who was who. About three quarters of the way up the street, approaching the northern gate, is a votive column with a colossal base with space for people to sit.  There were other similar columns elsewhere but they are no longer standing.  We only managed to see about two other bases lying around on the ground.

The area of Apamea visible today is considerably smaller than that to be seen at Palmyra but, to my way of thinking, it is the difference in setting which is most striking.  Apamea stands in rural surroundings with lots of grass and plants growing among the ruins and birds singing and flying about here and there.  This rurality gives the whole place a more familiar dimension, whereas Palmyra, standing starkly as it does in the middle of the desert, has an air of mysticism and otherworldliness about it which make it unique.

There are some old Roman houses still standing and, in fact, we took a photograph of one topped by a satellite dish (!) where a family is still living.  This is a true example of moving with the times and adapting the function of old things to suit modern needs.

The town of Apamea is overlooked by a citadel but, as time was short and we are not really interested in the constructions of war, we did not visit it, but, like most citadels, it is impressive perched on the top of the hill.  At the foot of the citadel are the remains of the theatre.  This was the largest theatre in Syria, larger even than the one at Bosra, but  only a small part has been excavated.  It also differs from the Bosra theatre in that here the sloping tiers of seats seem to follow the flow of the terrain whereas at Bosra the whole construction is built free-standing.

When we got back to Hama, Badr invited us to go out with him in the evening and he had also invited another Englishman who is running a water project in Hama and Deir az-Zor at the far end of the desert on the Euphrates.  At 6.30 we all met at the hotel and we were introduced to Jim and his Polish wife, Stasha, who had the most perfect and flawless complexion I have ever seen as well as the proverbial flaxen hair.    We retraced our steps through what we now discovered is called the “Valley of the Christians” to a village called Mhardeh where virtually all the inhabitants are Christians, particularly Greek Orthodox.  As the name implies, most of the villages in this valley are inhabited by Christians, either Orthodox or Catholic, mostly Greek or Syrian.  This was the Orthodox Good Friday, or “Sad Friday” as it is known in Arabic, and most of the people were to be found around the huge church or in the main street leading up to it.  The children were all dressed in their best and nearly everybody was carrying a small wooden cross garlanded with flowers. As usual our walk through the town turned us into the protagonists of the evening because everyone was amazed at the dog and any children who were not with their parents started to follow us around. Poor Simon puts up with this penance with a stoicism worthy of Seneca himself.  The village, like most modern villages and towns, has very little to see because the standards of construction are poor and town planning is non-existent.

Next morning we got up early with the intention of having a look around Hama itself, although we were aware that our plans might have to change as the first Spring Fair ever to be held was starting in the town that day, and fairs of any description are normally a source of noise and confusion which I could well do without.  Our premonition proved correct, as a collection of bands beating out an infernal rhythm punctuated by cymbals shattered the air and nearly left us deaf and the poor dog wanting to dive for cover under the nearest bush.  However, before we left, we did manage to take a walk around the centre of the town and see its most famous feature which is the seventeen huge waterwheels - one is twenty metres in diameter - which in former times picked up water from the River Orontes and fed it into a series of aquaducts which then fed the city’s water supply.  The name of the hotel, the Noria, comes from the Arabic word for waterwheel, naura, which is yet another Arabic borrowing still in current use in Spanish (noria) and Portuguese (nora) today.  


Hama is, in many ways, the heartland of Syria: it is mid-way between Damascus and Aleppo, as well as mid-way between the desert and the coast, and around this pivot many significant events in Syrian and world history have taken place.  The surrounding countryside is also fertile and a great deal of market garden produce is grown there. The town stands on the River Orontes, whose Arabic name al-Assi means “the rebel”, so called because it flows “the wrong way” i.e. from north to south.  Another great city standing on the banks of the Orontes is Antioch. The Orontes, like the Jordan River further south, drains the great rift valley. Hama faces the desert and in the past it was a great caravan city.  Even today it is a silk-producing centre.  

Modern Hama is fairly picturesque with its central park and the river running through the heart of the town, and the constant creaking and grinding sound of the waterwheels is like an ever-present accompaniment everywhere you go, but, apparently, it is but a shadow of its former beauty because in 1982 , when the disturbances took place relating to attempts to depose President Hafez al-Assad, the town was bombed  and many of its most beautiful buildings were destroyed or severely damaged.  Nonetheless, it is still by far the most attractive of the Syrian towns that we have visited so far. Hama’s past would also appear to have been marked by  tension.  The town and surrounding area are an Isma’ili stronghold.  The Isma’ilis are a branch of Shi’a Moslems who believe that there were only seven imams after Muhammed rather than the twelve of mainstream Shi’ism and that the last one was Isma’il rather than Musa.  A description of Hama from 1932 says it was “at the same time the most picturesque and the least touched by the west” of the towns of northern Syria but it was also “a very enclosed town, unforthcoming to strangers, whose inhabitants border on the fanatic”.

Hama is the site of an ancient settlement going back to the neolithic period. The central park of the town, next to the river, is the mound where the original ancient settlement stood and it has grown higher as one civilization built upon the remains of previous ones to form the present “hill”.  Archeologists have found artifacts there dating back to the seventh millenium B.C. By the third millenium B.C. it was one of the most important central Syrian kingdoms together with Ebla and Qatna, which we have not visited yet. However, Hama’s period of greatest prosperity was around 1,100B.C. when it was an important centre in an Aramaean state.  Its name, Hama, dates from this time when it was known as Hamath.  All the inhabitants of the town were transported by the Assyrian conquerors but the town’s fortunes revived under the Persian Empire when the inhabitants returned.  It remained prosperous under the Romans but after that time its importance was purely on the local stage.  During the Middle Ages its main claim to fame was the silk produced in the city, an activity which continues today.

Once we had taken a walk around the central area with the waterwheels, we decided to take a look at the preparations for the fair.  Overnight, hundreds of little kiosks had appeared along the pavement bordering the central mound, and the owners were busy setting out their displays of everything from domestic appliances to clothing and perfumery.  However, our walk soon turned into a dramatization of the Pied Piper of Hamelin. Before long I had about fifty children following me around.  For someone who prefers to pass unnoticed, this is something of a trial! The problem with children is that they are so unpredictable (or maybe I should say too predictable).  Most of the girls are petrified of the dog so they just give me a wide berth and float away, but the boys, most of whom are also afraid, cannot resist the temptation, firing questions about the dog.  Once they get their courage up, they are apt to try and hit him or kick him from behind or pull his hair.  This means that Robert has to take up the rearguard and act as bodyguard.  The best policy is simply not to answer any of their questions because then they get bored much quicker and all but the most tenacious are likely to wander away.  It is quite clear, however, that if an animal should be wandering around loose it would stand little chance because it would be tortured to death in no time at all.  (Could this be reminiscent of the fanaticism mentioned in the quote earlier?) Simon, it must be said, pays no attention to them whatsoever.  He just keeps on walking and refuses even to look round even when they hit or kick him.  It is an interesting thing that when he meets “Western” people, he susses them out straight away and his reactions are much more effusive.  Some German ladies were visiting the Krak des Chevaliers at the same time as us and, when he heard them speaking, he immediately started to wag his tail and pay attention to them.  The same thing happened with Jim, the consultant in Hama.  Curious!

As we drove out of the town I saw a large building with a sign saying Faculty of Veterinary Medicine.  This surely was a revelation.  Where do all the graduates of this faculty work?   So far, we have not seen a single veterinary practice in the whole of Damascus.  I can only assume that they are employed in government livestock programmes and such like.


As the commotion of bands and parades forced us out of Hama fairly early, we decided to take one of the side roads which lead into the desert to see a citadel Robert had read about which is built in the crater of an extinct volcano and the photo looked very dramatic.  The citadel is called Qala’at ash-shmamis and it is just on the outskirts of a village called Salamiya.  At first we could not see any road leading up to it but, as we approached the arch marking the entrance to Salamiya, we saw a track snaking up the side of the volcano and another track taking off from the far side of the road, so we turned around and took the dirt track which, sure enough, joined the one up to the volcano.  We parked at the bottom and climbed up the hill.  The remains of the citadel, now badly eroded by the wind and the rain, do indeed sit in the centre of the crater, and it must have taken many thousands of workmen to build up the earthworks on which the citadel is perched looking from afar as though it is sitting right on the rim of the crater.  The citadel was built by the Fatimids, an offshoot of the Isma’ilis.  In fact the first caliph of the Fatimid dynasty was born in Salamiya.  Although there is not much left to see, it was worth climbing up to see the view over the surrounding countryside, and Robert climbed up the earthworks to get a closer look at the citadel itself where there would appear to be underground chambers.

April 18th 1998