For fifteen years, the limestone cliffs outside Damascus stood silent. The mountains were backdrops to survival, shadows seen from windows behind checkpoints, or completely cut off by fear and a brutal war. Young people grew up with very few ways to escape the grinding pressure of daily life. Shisha cafes or staying indoors were basically the only options.
Then things shifted. After the fall of Bashar al-Assad in late 2024, three siblings who had spent years climbing in Canada packed up their lives and moved back. Moaz, Zahira, and Yassen Tasabehji returned with an idea that sounded crazy to most people: they wanted to build a rock climbing culture from scratch in the heart of Syria.
They didn't just want to set up a hobby for adrenaline junkies. They wanted to build something social, open, and radically inclusive.
The Birth of Jabalna
In January 2026, the siblings opened Jabalna—which translates to "Our Mountain" in Arabic—as the very first bouldering gym in Syria. Located right in Damascus, the gym offers an alternative to the usual routine. It features vertical walls, structured training classes, and kids learning how to stretch and tie knots safely.
You walk in and notice something different immediately. The room isn't filled with elite athletes flexing for social media. It's filled with teenagers, kids, and young women gripping plastic holds and figuring out balance.
Financing this wasn't easy. The siblings self-funded the project, paying years of rent upfront while dealing with steep import hurdles. Gear like harnesses, ropes, and climbing shoes aren't sitting on local store shelves. Everything has to make it through strict checkpoints and international supply bottlenecks. Yet, the gym keeps expanding its community footprint.
Why This Sport Matters for Syrian Women
If you talk to Zahira Tasabehji, she will tell you why the project focuses so heavily on women and girls. Traditional social structures in Syria rarely give women permission to take up physical space, get dirty, or push their physical limits in public.
Climbing changes that equation overnight.
When a young woman pulls herself up a wall, she has to trust her own strength. She has to solve a physical puzzle using pure body mechanics and problem-solving skills. There's no room for hesitation or self-doubt.
Zahira watches beginners scale limestone slabs near Lake Zarzar, just a short drive outside the city. She notes how the physical act of climbing alters body language and confidence. For a generation raised under the constant threat of conflict, learning to trust a climbing rope is a powerful parallel to learning to trust one another again.
Breaking Down Economic Barriers
Building a climbing scene in a post-war economy means facing harsh financial realities. Most locals don't have spare cash for gym memberships or imported gear.
The founders solved this with a brilliant, low-friction community model at Jabalna. By the front counter, you'll find a simple glass jar filled with small colored balls. Each ball represents half the price of entry. If you can afford to pay for someone else, you buy an extra ball and drop it in. If you're short on cash, you just take one. No questions asked, no paperwork filled out, and zero shame.
It's a mutual aid system disguised as a gym policy. It keeps the doors open to anyone who wants to climb, regardless of their bank account.
Beyond the Indoor Walls
The movement isn't staying inside four walls. Through the Syrian Association for Climbing, the founders are training local instructors and mapping outdoor routes.
Before the war, a small group had bolted around 200 sport climbing routes near Damascus, but those areas were largely forgotten or turned into hazardous zones. Now, outdoor trips are returning. Beginners are heading out to the Anti-Lebanon mountains to experience top-rope climbing on real rock.
The goal goes way beyond setting new athletic records. It's about rewriting how Syrians interact with their own geography. The mountains are no longer frontiers of danger. They are spaces for connection, healing, and recreation.
If you ever find yourself looking at how communities rebuild after the worst-case scenarios, look at Damascus. Stop waiting for institutions to fix everything from the top down. Real change starts on a 16-foot indoor wall with a pair of rented shoes and a handful of colored balls in a jar.
Syria First Bouldering Gym Inspires New Generation In Damascus
This short documentary captures the energy and day-to-day atmosphere inside Jabalna as local youth experience bouldering for the very first time.
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