globalization in action

Last night, I was hanging out in my room, listening to the school band concert taking place a few doors down. Lots of percussion and brass, and what they lacked in skill, they made up for in vigor: in short, a racket, but charming.

I was munching on a snack mix from the local nut shops. You can get cashews, hazelnuts, peanuts, pistachios three ways and roasted sunflower and pumpkin seeds, which I've finally learned how to eat properly: turn them sideways and nibble on the end until it pops open, then eat the inner seed. An important skill, that. Corn nuts are also common. The ones from Aleppo are dusted in chile.

They're all tasty, but my favorites are the mixes, which include coated peanuts, mysterious crisps, dried peas, and rice crackers, sometimes coated with the same Aleppo pepper.

Wait a minute. Rice crackers?

Yep, here's a photo:


Yes, this is the same stuff you find all over Hawaii--where it's called "crack" although whether that's for its crunch or its addictive properties, I can't say--and, I assume, throughout East Asia.

But what are nori-laced crackers doing in Syria, a country whose affection for foreign cuisine is limited to croissants and the odd french or italian restaurant? I asked my local nut seller. He confirmed that they're from Japan and said they appeared in Damascus about 3 years ago. If their introduction followed the usual local pattern, one nut shop started importing them and all the others almost immediately followed suit. Would that I had time to track down the original buyer and get his story...

In addition to being an amusing case of the global market at work, the Asian cracker mixes are a good illustration of a bizarre contradiction lying at the heart of Syrian commerce. Although shops take the principle of retail specialization to an extreme, within any given speciality, merchants' offerings are virtually identical.

This leads to a quandry for the foreign visitor. Even if you can find the appropriate souq for your desired product (all shops with the same speciality cluster together), how do you decide which store to buy from? Initially, I was paralyzed by my desire to choose the "best" shop. Later, a local told me there's no such thing. The quality of most shops is about the same; the one you select is a matter of habit, usually inherited from your parents. Which sounded nuts, until I thought about my shopping patterns when I'm in my parents' home town. Without fail, I always go to their grocery store. Is it the best? Who knows! It's just the one I go to; it never occured to me to do otherwise.