Saying farewell to the Dokaneh

You can see a dokaneh on the right of this picture. This is not the dokaneh talked about in this post

If you know anybody who grew up in Syria, then chances are they will have many stories to tell about the “dokaneh” they used to frequent as kids. Dokaneh is a term that describes a mini grocery shop selling common everyday supplies, and most importantly: chips and candy. In any typical street in Damascus your are bound to find at least one dokaneh, where the owner is sitting outside sipping tea and eating (fasfes) sunflower seeds.

As a kid I would visit the dokaneh nearest to my house on a daily basis. My mom typically gave me my daily allowance after school (which ended at 12:30 in the afternoon). I would then run, or later, bike to the dokaneh to spend my allowance on chips and candy. Upon arriving to the dokaneh I would quickly figure out the best combination of candy and chips that I can get for my money. Everyday would be a slightly different combination, all depending on what I felt like eating on that particular day.

In the summer time my cousins would arrive from the UAE and Saudi and we would make group trips to the dokaneh. Our most frequented dokaneh was Abu Ahmad’s, whose dokaneh, was, and still is, located at the end of our Hara (ally). Abu Ahmad’s brother, Abu Shawqi also had a dokaneh meters away from Abu Ahmad’s, but we never went to his dokaneh, although he sold my favourite pop brand “Jallab.” Abu Shawqi had messy hair, always wore a frown on his face, and had a grubby looking, unpainted dokaneh. Based on location, candy selection, and relative friendliness, my cousins and I decided to make Abu Ahmad’s our dokaneh of choice.

His dokaneh had a few tables at the front, where he displayed tens of items including hard candy and gum. In the back he had two fridges where he kept his commercial bought, and homemade popsicles. His homemade popsicles were made out of diluted plain yogurt, with a bit salt to give it the required punch. All in all, Abu Ahmad supplied us with the sugar and calcium needed for all the running, biking, and soccer games that characterized our summers.

This year when I visited Syria, I noticed that Abu Ahmad had renovated his dokaneh with large glass windows sealing the dokaneh from the street. I’m not sure why, but I didn’t actually go in the dokaneh, although looking back on it now, I think I should have went in and relived the dokaneh experience.

A few days ago my mom came to my room and told me “Abu Ahmad passed away.” After asking her whom she referred to, all she had to say was “sa7ib dokaneh” for me to know who it was. Farewell Abu Ahmad, you will be remembered.