In Damascus, Syrians are regaining their spaces and freedoms after the fall of Assad

For most of her life, Somaya Aynaya spent weekends and summer nights on Mount Qasioun, which overlooks Damascus, joined by other Syrians drinking coffee, smoking shisha, and eating corn grilled on nearby grills.

But shortly after the outbreak of the Syrian civil war in 2011, the army under President Bashar al-Assad closed the mountain to civilians. Suddenly, instead of families and friends shooting fireworks into the sky, soldiers with tanks and artillery launchers were firing into rebel-held areas below.

On New Year’s Eve, weeks after a rebel alliance was formed Overthrew the Syrian regimeMs. Ainaya, 56, and her family returned to Mount Qasioun with snacks, soft drinks and scarves to protect against the winter cold – and regained their favorite entertainment spot.

“Thank God, we are back now – we feel like we can breathe again,” said Ms. Ainaya, an Arabic literature graduate and mother of four, as she stood along a ridge and pointed out several Damascus landmarks.

Her son, Muhammad Qatfani (21 years old), a dentistry student, said: “We feel that the city has returned to us.”

Across Damascus, as in much of the country, Syrians are reclaiming, and in some cases re-embracing, spaces and freedoms that were off limits for years under the Assad regime. There were places ordinary Syrians were not allowed to go, and things they were not allowed to say when the Assad family was in power. Many said the country increasingly felt as if it did not belong to them.

But with the new feeling of freedom comes Some fear About the future under a government formed by Islamist rebels, and whether over time it may impose new restrictions and limits.

Many Syrians watch every decision and announcement as a harbinger of how their new rulers will rule. Last week, the new de facto leader of Syria, Ahmed Al-SharaaHe said it could take two to three years to draft a new constitution and up to four years to hold elections, worrying Syrians who fear they may have replaced one authoritarian leader with another.

Currently, there is also a level of chaos under the interim government as it races to set priorities Some state building measures On others. With many economic restrictions and regulations removed, men and boys sell smuggled gas from large water jugs on street corners. Residents said traffic in the city is congested, with only a few police officers patrolling and double parking lots common.

Despite the anxiety, people are returning to or rediscovering spaces across the capital, Damascus. Protest songs that could have landed someone in prison a month ago can be heard on the street.

Yaman Al-Sabeek, a youth group leader, said about his country under the Assad regime: “We did not see the city, or Damascus, or any city, in all its details.” “Public places – we stopped going to them because we felt they were not for us, but for the system.”

His organization, Sanad Development Team, began organizing youth efforts to help clean the streets and direct traffic. “When Damascus was liberated and we felt this renewed sense of ownership, people came out to rediscover their city,” he said.

After last month A stunning invasion by revolutionaries Icons of the Assad regime were demolished. Children play on the pedestals and pedestals that once held towering statues of the lion, his father and brother. Murals cover the areas on which pro-regime slogans are written.

On a recent gray and rainy day, there was only room in the hall that was the headquarters of the ruling Baath Party, which represented the Assad family’s totalitarian grip on political discourse. Hundreds of people gathered to listen to Syrian actress and activist, Yara Sabry, speak about the thousands of detained and missing prisoners in the country.

“We all decide what the country will look like and what we want it to be,” Ms. Sabri said of the country’s future.

Weeks ago, she was in exile because of her activism. Now, the Syrian flag in its new colors hung above the podium on which she was speaking. Above the entrance to the building, the old Syrian flag and the Baath Party flag were partially painted over.

Salma Al-Hunaidi, the event organizer, said that the choice of place was deliberate. “We consider this a victory,” she said. “This was a place where we could not hold any activities, and now we are holding not just activities, but important activities that expose the previous regime.”

An event was also recently held in the building to discuss writing a new Syrian constitution.

“Syria looks bigger, the streets look bigger – the images that used to make us angry, the slogans that used to make us angry, are gone,” Ms. Heneidi said. “We used to feel so restricted before.”

Even saying the word “dollar” could land someone in prison under Mr. Assad. Foreign currency exchanges, which were banned for years under the Assad regime, seem to be popping up everywhere. Men walk through the markets shouting: “Exchange! Exchange! Exchange!” A vendor selling warm winter porridge offered stacks of Syrian pounds in exchange for $100 bills.

Muhammad Murad, 33, sat in his car on the street corner, wearing a beanie in the colors of the new Syrian flag. There was a sign on his window that said: “Dollars, Euros, and Turks.”

Mr. Murad worked for a long time in the currency exchange business, but after the previous regime banned foreign currencies, his business disappeared. Murad said that if a customer needs dollars or euros, he goes to the customer’s home, hiding the bills inside a sock.

He added that in the new Syria, he stands in line in front of the Central Bank to exchange a thousand dollars for piles of Syrian pounds. When potential customers come to his window to inquire about the exchange rate, he assures them that he offers the “best rate.”

Across the street, the shelves of a corner convenience store look very different than they did just a few weeks ago, when store owners had to smuggle in foreign brands and hide them from most customers.

“I was only selling these brands to my regular customers who knew I sold smuggled goods, not just to anyone who came in,” said Hossam El-Sherif, the store’s owner.

Syrian-made products are now openly mixed with brands from Türkiye, Europe and the United States. Customers walk in and freely ask for “Original Nescafe.”

Three years ago, a police officer came into his store and saw six Kinder eggs in a glass case in the back. Mr. Al-Sharif was fined 600,000 Syrian pounds, or approximately $50, and sentenced to one month in prison. He’s been fighting it in court ever since.

Back in Mount Qasioun, there was a man selling illegal fireworks smuggled from Lebanon. Hours later, the sky will light up to ring in the year 2025.

Ali Maadi, 35, was busy setting up a kiosk selling drinks, snacks and shisha. Before the war, his family had a small but cozy rest area along a mountain ridge. When he returned more than a week ago, he found that Syrian army soldiers had used it as an outpost and had destroyed everything, including the bathrooms. He plans to rebuild slowly.

From two speakers in the back of his Peugeot, he was broadcasting a mix of Syrian protest songs and popular songs. The lyrics of one of the songs said:

We want to adore, we want to love

We want to get on the road

We want to learn how to be men and love Damascus

From our hearts we see Damascus up close.

Nearby, Aya Kilis, 28, and her fiancé-to-be, Khaled Al-Qadi, 26, sat at a picnic table enjoying the view. She said she was 15 years old the last time she came to the mountain.

“Any place you get banned from, you want to go back,” said Ms. Callas, the makeup artist.

Damascus, where Ms. Klass has lived all her life, is sometimes unrecognizable, she said. “There were entire streets you couldn’t walk on because an officer or military official lived there,” she said.

“We feel a desire to see the country again; “We feel like tourists,” Mr. Judge said. “It’s like he’s ours again.”

Zeina Shahla contributed reporting.