Mr. Forgotten Sea

Jihad says he owes the first half of his life to his horses, and now it's time to do something for them.

　　The first time I saw Mr. Big Sea was at a military horse farm in Damascus, the capital of Syria. Because of the war, there were few visitors to the farm for more than two years. It was a rare occasion that a foreigner visited the farm, so Jihad, the horse trainer, invited Mr. Big Sea to run around with me. Mr. Dahai carried me in a gentlemanly manner and walked me around the stable twice. Arabian horses are notorious for their strong nature, but not only that, they are also very smart. They often shake their heads to test you, and once they find out you are a novice, they will be mischievous and either do not move, or run as fast as they can. If they like you, they will be tricky; if they happen not to like you, then, you really have to be careful. That's why taming Arabian horses has always been a fascination for Middle Eastern men.

　　In the two years in Syria, Mr. Big Sea did not play any small temper, I gently a little reins, he can understand my intentions, so much so that I once thought my horse skills have improved a lot, until back to Dubai, in the desert when the wild ride by a foal tossed down, only more and more appreciate the quality of Mr. Big Sea. So, visiting Mr. Big Sea became one of the few pleasures I had after work in Syria.

　　Mr. Big Sea has a shiny coat, a strong body, and runs as fast as an arrow, killing most of the horses in the stable; but when I lay on him and put my arms around his neck to rest, he becomes especially gentle and slides around slowly without breathing. When he was young, Mr. Dahai won numerous championships, but unfortunately now that Syria is at war, he has no use for it. I'm afraid that having a champion horse practice with me is a treat that I wouldn't get anywhere else in the world. In return, every time I go to the stud, I bring two apples and break them into small pieces and feed them to him.

　　The Arabian horse is no less important in Syria than the thousands of years of history of cultural monuments, and the survival of the Arabian horse, known as a "living fossil", has been greatly threatened by the bombing of Palmyra by extremist forces.

　　Four years ago, the place was occupied by opposition forces, and most of the horses were sold to other countries or killed. He risked his life to run back and grabbed more than 10 horses and transferred them to the military horse farm in Bashir.

　　Arabian horses have the most elegant conformation and strongest genetics in the world, and more than 95% of the world's thoroughbreds have sires that originate from the Dali Arabian (Syrian-born Arabian horse) bloodline.

　　Syrians have a special affinity for horses. "We all see horses as our children, and people used to keep them at home." Jihad gestures to me with interest as he leads the horse, "If my bedroom is over here, the horse's room is next door, and I can hear any noise he makes; he's part of the family."

　　Bashir Military Stud now hosts three to four hundred Arabian horses, and while the horses have arrived in relative safety, raising them has not been easy. "The price of horse feed has gone up 20 times." Jihad complains, "The farmland, mostly on the outskirts of Damascus, is occupied by armed opposition groups and has basically stopped producing, so it's not always possible to buy the right horse feed even if you have the money." To make matters worse, the military horse farms are located in the suburbs, where the sound of artillery fire can be heard from time to time, and pregnant horses are suffering from various conditions that did not exist before the war, with fetal deformities and miscarriages occurring.

　　"Now the situation in Syria is so bad, why don't you go elsewhere to continue your career?" Jihad patted Mr. Big Sea's neck and said, "When I was young, Mr. Big Sea accompanied me to win championship after championship, to go to place after place, and almost all of my experiences traveling around the world were related to horses. Now, it's time for me to give back to them. You don't know, every time I see the sea fluttering its eyes and looking at me, I can't walk."

　　Without the applause and attention, Mr. Ocean is at ease. Jihad says that a horse can remember more than 400 faces in its lifetime. I wonder if, years from now, it will remember me, the American girl who bathed it and fed it apples during the war years?