Chapter XI. Tamarind vendor

Major Basel wandered among the market stalls in Annaba Market, one of the most well-known and popular markets in the city of Latakia, where the majority of its vendors and customers are members of the Alawite sect. Although he wasn’t exactly sure what he wanted, Major Basel recalled a piece of wisdom that explained why he was here right now.

Ironically, the person who said it to him was an elderly father who was detained in the branch for trying to get his fugitive son to come back.

And after a few glasses of wine, that son, who was evading very delicate political problems that were of the utmost importance to the security of the state, declared that he believed President Hafez al-Assad need to implement some political reforms in the country.

The report was on the Major’s desk the following day, and he immediately ordered the man to be arrested. However, the man had woken up from his intoxication the previous morning, remembered what he had said, and fled. In order to ensure that the arrest patrol would not return empty-handed, they also took his elderly father.

When the elderly man asked the Major in his office why he was there, the Major’s response was the standard one that he had repeated hundreds of times before.

That wretched one was born because of you, which is your fault. Unless he turns himself in, you won’t be leaving your place.

The elderly man responded, “My son is a reckless drunk, and I am old and nearing the end of my days. You won’t gain anything by arresting me, but you must leave your ivory office if you want to find him. Go to the markets, mingle with the people, hear what they have to say, and pick up tips from their friends; you will find wisdom there. If you can locate the past and the future’s orientalism, you can find everything else you need.

After a few days, the major decided to let the old man die on his own rather than have him pass away in the branch’s cells because the son had refused to surrender. However, he had to write a report to his boss explaining the circumstances surrounding the old man’s death in his cells, so he ordered that the old man’s body be sent to the branch’s mortuary. The elderly man did not deserve to go to the effort of filing the report, so he forgot it and his knowledge. Of course, he did not forget his son, who continued to pursue him until he apprehended him at a later time.

Here he is today, clueless on where to begin and lost. He chose to behave in accordance with the old man’s advice.

While in the market, he saw a familiar scene, a street vendor selling tamarind juice, wearing traditional Levantine clothing, carrying a large bucket and glass cups on his back.

He pours juice for the clients, who then drink it and put the cup back in a tiny bowl of water that he wears around his waist. When another customer enters, takes a cup out of the bowl, and he gets the juice.

He never drank from them because he believed they posed a threat to public health because so many people used the same cup repeatedly without washing or sterilizing it. He was correct in this, as single-use plastic cups are still uncommon in these markets and some people prefer to drink tamarind from glass cups because plastic alters the flavor and degrades the quality of the fruit.

But this time he checked out some details that he hadn’t seen before.

A man in well-groomed clothes and a luxurious appearance is standing in front of the vendor and risking his health to sip some of his juice.

He questioned why this wealthy man would choose to drink from him when he could get tamarind juice from the most opulent and prominent stores in Latakia.

He then observed that the juice vendor barely glances up from the glass of juice as he pours it, raises it to the customer without glancing at his face, and swiftly takes up another cup to pour for a second customer without questioning the first one about the juice’s pricing.

And some of them would depart after finishing by placing some cash in a bag that hung from the vendor’s belt, while others would do neither.

He initially believed he understood the cause because the vendor does not ask for money. Some of them freely put money in the bag for the Juice, which may be given away for free for ethical or religious reasons.

But as soon as he saw him holding someone’s hand and aggressively yelling at him, “you drank an hour ago, and you bought from four stores, and now you’re about to leave the market without paying for what you drank!”, this theory rapidly vanished.

After a string of justifications and apologies for forgetting—I forgot man, pardon me—the man took the money out and put it in the bag, and then he quickly walked away.

Seeing the vendor warily, the Major continued on his way. What had transpired eluded him. He approached him by walking a short distance, reached out, and grabbed a glass. He drank it with reluctance, poured it in a basin of water, and then walked away without paying.

He moved a short distance before stopping, gathering the remaining dates on his tongue and in his mouth, and swallowing them. He returned with a smile on his face, drank from another cup happily this time, put it in the bowl, and then walked away.

Since he had never before tasted tamarind juice as fine as this seller’s, he had just realized why the wealthy man had abandoned all the upscale juice bars and had come specifically to buy from him. He also realized that people are occasionally willing to take risks in order to obtain the best and most desirable products.

Then he thought of a bowl of water, and subconsciously began to find himself making justifications for the seller pouring dates into the same cup for another customer, so he said to himself, this seller must have mixed some kind of water with sterilizers, it is enough to put the cup in it and then take it out so that it becomes clean and free of dirt or any viral traces the previous client may have left on him. Subconsciously, he started convincing himself that the cup is clean and the dates are safe, and there is no need to be afraid to drink it, and all this after he tasted and liked it.

After half an hour of moving between the shops, he made his way back to the vendor, once next to him, anticipating him to hold his hand and exclaim at him, “Here you are leaving without paying.”

Instead, the vendor carried on with his work as if he had not noticed him.

He turned away from him, left the market, and then thought to himself, “Perhaps he didn’t notice me when I drank the first and second time.” So, he went back and got a third cup, drank it, put it in a bowl of water, and then left. He then walked around the market once more and returned, but nothing had changed.

As he grew weary of the situation and was unable to solve his riddle, he put the money in the bag, left, went home, showered, changed into fresh clothes, and sat down to consider his strategy for bringing the boy back. However, first it was important to confirm; perhaps he had returned earlier; he made some contacts with the branch, all of which confirmed that the boy is still a fugitive.

He began to think about his plan when the home phone rang, the caller’s number referring to Nurhan…

-Hello Nurhan, how are you?

-Fine, do you want me to come tonight?

-No, not today, I’m busy with a case, I’ll call you later

-What is it, my love?

Silence without answering a word….

-Hello, Basel, where are you?

-Here, I’ll call you later

He hung up, feeling for the second time in his life that he was an intelligence man.

He is working on a case for the first time; thus, he feels he shouldn’t discuss it in front of prostitutes. Who is this and who is she to have a right to know the details of a case I am working on?

He sat thinking and thinking, for a whole hour, almost going crazy, no thoughts at all, his mind was not used to thinking, he did not know from where and how to start, he was exhausted by the lack of ideas, so he lay on his sofa, closed his eyes, and suddenly he remembered the tamarind seller.

He got up from the sofa, grabbed the phone and called one of his colleagues at work. He specializes in following up a number of markets, including the Annaba market. He has elements that are widespread among people. He knows everything that happens there, every word that is said in it, and every aspect of every merchant’s life, both in private and in public.

-Hi Haider, how are you?

-Hi Basel, fine, and you

-Fine, I wanted to ask you about the tamarind vendor in Annaba market, what is his story?

A laugh at the other end of the speaker

Basel remained silent, waiting for his friend to end his laughter

After he finished: Why are you interested in him?

-I saw him today, he acted strangely, some people pay and others don’t…

-Interrupted him: Did you see him when he grabbed that man and yelled at him when he didn’t pay?

-Were you there as well?

No, but he does it every day, and with the same man

Then a louder laugh resounded than before.