by Hummam Sheikh Ali
DAMASCUS, Jan. 16 (Xinhua) -- Growing up, I was enthralled by sci-fi shows about time travel, where characters leap years ahead yet still recognize their city's landmarks, only to find themselves in an unfamiliar reality.
Lately, I can't help revisiting those tales, as they seem to be unfolding here in Syria where everything has changed dramatically in such a short period.
Before the political upheaval of Dec. 8, 2024, the day when Bashar al-Assad's government fell, Syrian people were often startled by unexplained gunshots echoing from a distance. A month later, strolling through Damascus feels more reassuring. The city appears unchanged on the surface, yet the difference is unmistakable.
The streets, once hemmed in by checkpoints, have opened up: vendors now sell fuel at spots formerly guarded by soldiers, with people snapping photos and exploring presidential palaces and other landmarks that they used to watch only on national television.
In the absence of traffic police, young men wearing reflective vests -- some in their 20s -- have stepped up as volunteers to keep vehicles moving amid appreciative honks and waves from passing drivers.
Cafes are bustling again, and shoppers pack the reopened souks.
Some previously unavailable and banned items are now on the market -- drones, for instance, are sold openly, and so are the latest phone models at competitive prices. Foreign chocolate and biscuit brands have appeared on store shelves, and cars -- once prohibitively expensive under high import duties -- are now listed at much lower prices.
Some basic necessities, however, are costlier than before, and electricity shortages persist in many areas. State institutions have yet to fully resume operations.
Talking with friends, I sense we are all in flux, trying to reinvent ourselves for this new phase.
The Islamist Hayat Tahrir al-Sham (HTS), which led the takeover of Damascus and much of Syria, promises not to discriminate by religion or ethnicity and condemns revenge killings. While the new interim authority champions co-existence among communities, we remain cautious.
Rumors of retaliatory violence against unnamed victims unsettle many in the country, including my friend Ihsan, who belongs to a minority group.
"We want to turn the page, but we need to move beyond this stage of uncertainty and feel safe, especially after all these years of hardship," he said.
Another friend, Ibrahim, recently heard shooting from his apartment window -- an apparent act of vengeance -- before security forces arrived. He kept talking about it for days.
Such episodes show how fragile stability can be in this altered reality.
For many of us, each day feels like existing in two overlapping worlds: one is the old Damascus, deeply etched into our memories, and the other is this evolving reality, brimming with both promise and uncertainty.
Between friends, we share a day-to-day determination to adapt and cling to small scraps of hope. Here in Syria, the landmarks remain unchanged, yet beneath them lies a whole new world that is steadily taking shape, guided by people's determination and true desire for a better future.
Amid this scene, foreign diplomats come and go, meeting with leaders of the Syrian interim government. Their visits spark optimism about Syria's potential reintegration into the global arena and the prospect of lasting stability in the country.
"Good things are coming," says Samara, another friend of mine, who is optimistic about the future.■