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Published: September 23rd 2007
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Coming from a country with fairly poor diplomatic relations with so many countries have had it's downs and downs. For one, individual travel is banned from several countries like Iran (which is supposed to be one of the most incredible places to visit according to the dozens of European travels I've met), Sudan and North Korea, or you have to pay more for a visa due to reciprocity. Another is the constant anti-American conversations I've had along my travels --I want to carry a note that says, "I didn't vote for Bush -- actually I moved out of America for the duration of his presidency!" so I don't have to defend the dummies who voted for W. So the experience at the Jordanian/Syrian border was just another friendly reminder of the world's love for America and its foreign policies.
After riding a mini bus from Dahab to Nuweiba (port town of Egpt), I wandered around and met a group of travellers--most of whom were exchange students at American University in Cairo. We rode the fast ferry from Nuweiba to Aqaba in Jordan, which cost about $60-- payable only in U.S. dollars. My original plan was to go to Jordan and
then later try for Syria, as the possibility for Americans to get a visa at the border is tough or impossible, according to the grapevine. However, after talking with Yousef (student from D.C) and Omar (student from Jersey), both of whom were headed over to Lebanon, I changed my plans and decided to join them.
We arrived in Aqaba, which pleasantly had a cooler temperature than the oven (Egypt) we came from and then jumped on a minivan to head up to the capital, Amman. We reached the capital close to midnight, and got into a taxi with a Syrian man we met on the bus, with the pre-arranged price of $50 from Amman to Damascus (Syrian capital). Omar told the taxi driver that we were NOT sure if we would receive the visa, and that we've heard rumors that it could take several hours, so if we agree on the $5, then he would have to wait with us at the immigration office. No problem said the driver, and off we were.
After exiting Jordan, we drove a few kilometers to the Syrian border, arriving a bit past 3 a.m. We nervously walked up to the immigration
officer’s window and gave a cheerful ‘Salam!’ as the need for major ass-kissing was needed for our plight. He looked through our passports and told us that he would need to send a fax to Damascus for us to obtain approval from the immigrations office there. He said it would take about 6 hours, and to not even think about complaining, as Syrians wouldn't even get a visa for America. We were just relieved to hear that we would get a visa...eventually. Turns out that it's only the Americans who get the special privelege to wait this long! 😊 Three cheers for W, labeling Syria an Axis of Evil.
We hung out for a while and that's when things got ugly. All of a sudden the taxi driver didn't want to wait anymore, because ''Why the hell is it taking so damn long?!?!'' He wanted his $50 and to continue to Damascus with our Syrian ''friend.'' Our friend even started to side with the taxi driver and said that we ought to pay him the full $50 because that's the price we had agreed on, and if we gave him any less, then that would just be plain unfair.
To our dismay, our friend turned out to be in on a plan with the driver to scam us, which was obvious as he kept telling us over and over again that we should pay the driver the full amount. Omar is half Egyptian and Yousef is a converted Muslim, so they speak fairly good Arabic. I couldn't understand what was being said back and forth but I could see the driver was getting a bit aggressive. To make a long story short and simple, we had to do several things to finally have things our way... which was to give the driver $20 for the ride from Amman to the border. We had to (1) ask three different locals what the price should be, who told us it was $20; (2) forcefully remove our bags from the driver's trunk, as he was planning on keeping them hostage; and (3) get other taxi drivers involved and convince them that we were being legitimate and our taxi driver was a cheat-- the third was the most difficult because our driver was rambling on in Arabic making things up to make us look bad. Being that I had to deal with similar
situations in my travels, I had to make the softies-- Omar and Yousef-- be more aggressive and assertive. Anyhow, in the end, Yousef just threw the $20 into the taxi driver's car (the driver refused to accept anything less than $50) and we ran away. Omar was a bit sad because he felt betrayed by our Syrian friend, so when the guy came over to us an hour later to
convince us once more to give the driver $50, Omar gave him the ‘We trusted you and you totally tricked us. How could you?’ speech... and with that, our taxi-ordeal was over.
We slept in the immigration office, sweating and sweating as the morning heat starting pouring into the room. Around 8 a.m., the boys went to get some food and came back with good news... there was a cool ''waiting area'' 200m from the immigration office, complete with internet, TV, air conditioning and clean bathrooms! And there is even a duty free shop downstairs. WOW! It sounded like heaven... so we got our bags and walked over to this ''waiting area'' and I realized that it was a 4-star hotel! Now, you have to imagine how gross and
Yousef and Omar!
in the souq, old city Damascus sweaty the three of us look at this point... walking into a fairly nice hotel with our big bags, stinking like sweat and looking like utter poop. The ''waiting area'' was sort of like a business center/lounge, and we walked in there and threw our bags to the floor and sprawled ourselves on the couches. The only reason we were able to wait there was because we were foreigners... and we gleefully took advantage of that because at that point, the A/C was too tempting to resist.
Around 11 a.m., Yousef went to check on our visa status and came back to us with the news that our visas were finally ready... after EIGHT hours! There was a lot of running around, but eventually, we had our visas and we hopped on the bus to the magical city of Damascus.
We stayed at a guesthouse mentioned in the Lonely Planet, and it was such a serene, cozy place. Princess Omar had to check out a few other places to make sure we were staying at the best budget place in the area, and eventually our place got the stamp of Omarian approval. Plus, this place had the best
Best schwarmma ever!!!!!!!
the way he prepares it is art! bottled juice ever…orange, pineapple and mixed fruit! I think we each drank 10 bottles in the two nights we stayed there. We even had our ‘juice time’ in the courtyard before going to bed.
The atmosphere of the vine-covered courtyard and the winding narrow alleys around our guesthouse felt so nostalgic and historic. It was something I've never experienced before, and I kept imagining what it would be like if I lived in this beautiful city... eating delicious schwarmma and fresh squeezed orange juice everyday.... ahhh... perfecto. Maybe it’s different strokes from different folks, but something about Damascus totally captivated me and I was completely in love with the romantic tranquillity of the city.
That night we walked around the main souq (market) in the old city and walked to the Omayyad mosque. On our way back home, we ate the BEST schwarmma, a rolled pita with olive oil-marinated chicken, pickles, and yogurt. Neither of the guys wanted to eat, so only I got one... but after Omar tried a bite of this magical schwarmma, he bought one, and then Yousef got one as well. It was SO satisfying.
The next day, our drill sergeant of a
tour leader (Yousef) took us around on a walk all around the old city... through the Christian Quarters, the Muslim Quarters and even the Jewish Quarter (where there are obviously no more Jews). We went inside the Omayyad mosque, where I had to wear a hijab headscarf (thanks Omar!) and rent a floor length cloak to cover myself. Omar is one of the funniest people I have ever met in my life... hanging out with him is a non-stop laugh-a-thon. So his description of Islam practices can't help but be funny. For example, I asked him about the daily prayers, and he said that as long as you do the prayer before the next prayer call, you get points. But if you do it at the appropriate time (when the prayer call begins), you get bonus points. So it's all like a video game, where you collect points with Allah. Hahahaa.... he's so hilarious.
Since Yousef was so efficient, while Omar and I were painfully lazy, we were able to see pretty much all of this historical, beautiful part of Damascus. The little streets, alleys and underpasses have a magical feel to it and just walking around and getting
lost in the centuries-old city was an experience in itself. We randomly met some diamond dealer and were invited to his house for some soda. He told us to check out a church nearby and walked us there. Yousef, Omar and I had to ring a door bell over and over again for the door to finally be buzzed opened. As soon as we walked in, I said to Omar, ''It smells like a convalescence home.'' And as we were turning a corner, Omar replied in his ever-so-funny tone, ''I
think it is...'' and we saw a bunch of grandmas and grandpas and we thought, ''WHERE THE **** ARE WE?!?!'' It turned out that to get to the church, we had to walk through the convalescence home. It was such a weird experience.
For dinner, we went to one of the best restaurants I've been to in all of my travels. The ambiance of the restaurant has the same charm as the city... with a huge courtyard and fountain, a retractable ceiling, and balcony seating upstairs. The food was as impressive as the decor, and the place was buzzing with large families and groups, and plenty of sheesha smoke
lingering in the air. Gosh, I absolutely LOVE Syria!
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joanne Kim
non-member comment
n korea??
interesting, 'm sure they never get any n. korean visitors... u are looking tan lady. i can't wait to see u in la even though i've seen you off and on for the past 2 years!! heard you might be in london?? i just talked to chiwoan a few days ago! i miss you and ill see u in a few weeks..