It's been a bad day, please don't crash your taxi

No one was hurt in the aformentioned accident although were it not for a ruck sack between my knee and Takishi's crown jewels as he flew out of his benchseat opposite my own, this may have been a different story! None the less, I was glad to be back at my house, which, incidentally has no address other than "on the second street to the right opposite Al-Ward hammam, first (black) door on the right, Damascus". Then the tonsillitis set in.

With a searing sore throat and slight fever, I wanted to stay in bed on Monday morning but I had to get up to go to the British Embassy to get the seemingly utterly pointless "letter of recommendation" to say I could study at the university. On the way I had car crash number 2 - a slower but higher impact taxi to taxi incident which led to me having to get out and find another way to get to the embassy. One there, my mood developed from miffed to livid as I handed over 2750 Syrian pounds (4 days budget) for this organised theft. Forget beirut and dodgy taxi drivers, the British really know how to rip you off. On the verge of collapse I stumbled into a pharmacy, got some antibiotics and came home to bed. I barely left it for 2 days missing some crucial classes. Thankfully, the antibiotics seem to be working and I am, touch wood, on the mend. But this has certainly been a contrasting week to my previously fancy-free times in this great city.


One more hilarious sequence of events I have forgotten to write about happened last week when I went to get my visa extension. Thankfully, my flatmate Matt, an Arabic speaker, also had to renue his - for the second time - otherwise the hilarity would have, I'm sure, turned very quickly to despair. I hope the following description may be useful to someone completing this mission in the future though don't take it as gospel as I'm sure it's subject to change. The process went as follows:

1) Go to unmarked building
2) Tell man in booth in unmarked building you need to renue visa
3) Get undecipherable note off man
4) Go back outside to meet dodgy looking guy on street selling stamps
5) Buy stamp (don't question it, just do it!)
6) Photocopy stuff in a shop down the road (pointed out by dodgy guy)
7) Return to unmarked building
8) Go upstairs
9) Get stamp off soldier in smokey, unmarked room (avoid office with people that look Iraqi or Palestinian, that's not the room for you)
10) Smile
11) Go to the next floor
12) Get stamp off Govenor in unmarked room (look for plush office with sizable pics of our two great presidents)
13) Go back downstairs to soldier who, inshallah, hasn't gone on a tea break
14) Get another undeciferable squiggle in your passport
15) Hope it says 45 days
16) Rejoice
17) Leave, trying not to trip over the people who are clearly there just to "hang out"
18) Rejoice again - you can stay in Syria!

How on EARTH anyone is supposed to do that the first time. Aparently it took Arabic speaking Matt 4 hours, I can only imagine how long it would have taken me. None the less, classic moment.

So, I hope this evil swelling in my throat continues to decrease faster than the speed of my inevitable next car crash and that I can catch up with all the work I have missed. I have an exam on Monday and also an extra class on Saturday so I won't be galavanting about this weekend but I'll be sure to let you all know about my next trip when it happens!

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