Maliki Mardinalli

The only criticism I heard was that they were not political enough.

Some Syrians have told me that they feel as though they're speaking on borrowed time.

They're happy the old regime is gone, but are unsure about the future.

Syrians are setting precedents for what can be said, post by post, room by room.

But maybe it's a bubble.

They can joke for now, but there's real trepidation about what comes next.

By the end of the night, the comedians haven't heard back from the Sheikh.

The fate of the Hammer show is still on the line.

The comedians have a two-day break after Latakia, so they go back to Damascus to recuperate.

They still don't know what's going to happen with their show in Hama.

I meet up with them at Sharif's place in Damascus, his family's house.

It's big, in a nice leafy neighborhood.

How are you feeling?

Sharif's parents are drinking tea in the living room with his aunt and uncle.

Maliki, Sharif and Omar, another founding comedian, have all kicked off their shoes and are drinking coffee and discussing what's to come.

They are waiting for the sheikh to call with an update on Hama.

Maliki's phone stays face up on the table.

Psychedelic stoner posters are taped to the wall.

A desktop computer obscures the window.

A few childish pictures sit on the mantle.