I took a bus (1 USD for 2 hours) south to Hama, home of the noria (giant water wheels) that once lifted water into the aqueducts. These giant wooden wheels are all this town has and they play them for everything they have got. The wheels are very big, powered by the river that runs through town, and make a godawful noise. Supposedly they generate 360 different tones as they spin. Loud. A local teenager thrilled the crowds by riding the wheel up and over the top. The slippery wet wood makes this a little dangerous and stupid. Fortunately, the water wheels do detract from the dirt, garbage, and ugliness that plague the city. For a few minutes anyway.
At my hotel I ran into a Canadian guy and the painful wall of reality. He was there looking for his fiancé that disappeared two months ago from the hotel across the street. Having traveled worldwide by herself five times, she was not inexperienced. She just disappeared and no one has any idea where. He has talked to every level of government, travelers, hotel clerks, and street vendors with little luck. He assumes she is dead. The question is whether she was in an accident and someone secretly buried her, afraid of the consequences, or if something more nefarious occurred. That gave me something to think about as I wandered the under lit streets. According to the hotel manager and a few other people I met, I am the only American they have seen in years. That is not reassuring.
