SCOTT DETROW, HOST:
Now to Syria - many things have changed there since the Regime of Bashar al-Assad fell in December. NPR's Jane Arraf climbed on board the victory train in Damascus. It was once a propaganda tool for the former Syrian leader, and now it's something very different.
(SOUNDBITE OF CAR HORNS HONKING)
JANE ARRAF, BYLINE: This square in central Damascus is a bit grim on a winter's day. There's a chill in the air, fading posters of missing people, gray skies. But all of a sudden, like an apparition, a bright, shiny, battered vehicle pulls up.
(SOUNDBITE OF TRAIN HORN BLOWING)
ARRAF: This might be one of the coolest things I've ever seen. It's like - imagine a children's train. It's covered with pictures of, like, emojis and cartoons. There's a Smurf and bright, flashing lights.
The engine pulls two open-air compartments with benches. The bright red vehicle is flying the Syrian flag the country switched to after the fall of the regime. The driver's scowling and chain smoking. We climb on board. The seats are ragged, and there's a big hole in the metal roof.
(SOUNDBITE OF MUSIC)
UNIDENTIFIED MUSICAL ARTIST #1: (Singing in non-English language).
ARRAF: But the music is so exuberant, none of that matters. Raise your head. You're a free Syria. This is the unofficial anthem of a large part of this new Syria.
(SOUNDBITE OF MUSIC)
ARRAF: When Bashar al-Assad's repressive regime fell, it's as if a spell had been broken. Driving past his former hilltop palace, the driver plays a song comparing Bashar to a donkey. It rhymes in Arabic.
(SOUNDBITE OF MUSIC)
ARRAF: As we roll along, playing anti-Assad songs, a group of people at a sidewalk cafe get up to dance. The man who built and drives this train is Majid Zoedi (ph). He has a grizzled, graying beard, and he's wearing a black knit watch cap. At a stop, Zoedi tells us that decades ago, he bought a used car engine and built the train entirely by hand around it.
MAJID ZOEDI: (Non-English language spoken).
ARRAF: He plastered it with cartoon characters and images of the Syrian president and his wife to prove his loyalty - a propaganda vehicle, if you will.
ZOEDI: (Non-English language spoken).
ARRAF: "It was a trick, so the police wouldn't arrest me," he says. "I'm from Douma, and I was afraid." Douma was where Assad used chemical weapons against Syrian citizens, including some of Zoedi's relatives. The police arrested Zoedi anyway, after he accidentally played an anti-Assad song. He was released after a few days and allowed to drive the train again. But as punishment, they destroyed an amusement park he owned. The day after the regime fell, no longer afraid of arrest, he ripped down all the propaganda posters. He's 74 years old, and he still has big plans for what he calls the victory train.
ZOEDI: (Non-English language spoken).
ARRAF: "I want you to see this two months from now," he says. "I don't have money now, but it will have smoke, like a real train. I want the whole world to see it."
(SOUNDBITE OF MUSIC)
UNIDENTIFIED MUSICAL ARTIST #2: (Singing in non-English language).
ARRAF: A lot of the passengers are Syrian tourists, like Rafael Ahmad (ph), a car dealer from Deir el-Zour. He and his wife, Pamar (ph), are visiting Damascus for the first time in 13 years.
PAMAR: (Non-English language spoken).
ARRAF: "We're happy because of the fall of the regime. We're enjoying ourselves," Pamar says.
(SOUNDBITE OF HORN HONKING)
ARRAF: The train pulls out again, Zoedi, the driver, stern looking but happier, he says, than he's ever been - a free citizen driving around this free Syria. Jane Arraf, NPR News, Damascus. Transcript provided by NPR, Copyright NPR.
NPR transcripts are created on a rush deadline by an NPR contractor. This text may not be in its final form and may be updated or revised in the future. Accuracy and availability may vary. The authoritative record of NPR’s programming is the audio record.