We disembarked from our Greek cruise and we were headed to visit my sister who is studying Arabic at Damascus University in Syria. Our plan was to train back to Istanbul, Turkey and then bus to Damascus, all in all this trip would take about 48 hours between buses and trains. We went to the train station in Athens to get our train tickets and found out that heavy rains the week before (right after we trained through)washed out the tracks. So, no train back to Istanbul. After some research (looking into every option - bus, ferry, and airplane) we decided the best and least expensive way to get to Damascus was to fly into Beirut, Lebanon. So we bought one way tickets to Beirut for he following day. From Beirut we could get to Damascus in four or five hours by bus or taxi. A one and a half hour flight and a five hour drive was far better than a 48 hour train and bus trip so we were happy with our decision. So we boarded our flight at 1am and landed in Beirut at 3am. Trying to function with no sleep and not wanting to venture out of the airport at 3am Ashley and i sipped coffee and played cards in the empty airport waiting tell an appropriate time to try and find our way to the bus station in Beirut. At about 5am we negotiated with a taxi driver to take us to the Beirut bus station (hoping to catch a bus to Damascus). When we pull up at the bus station (no buses in sight) and a very shady terminal under some freeway we thought this might not have been a good decision. Remember it is still dark at 5:30am! As we get out of the taxi about 10 men approach us trying to take our bags and telling us they will take us to Damascus in their car (this is called a Servis Taxi). We were a bit hesitant since you can get riped off so easily and are lied to constantly. After some negotiona we decide we would take one of these Servis Taxis for $20 ($10 each) and this included another passager who also paid, i am assuming $10. We go into the 79 Chevy Caprice and headed out of Beirut in route for Damascus.
(this is not the actual car but this is close to what the car looked like)
From what I have red in guide books, online and experienced for myself the most dangerouse part of the Middle East is the driving. Cars use two lane highways like we (in the States) use four lane highways. Slow cars pull as far to the right as possible and fast cars use the center lane and swerve around the fast oncoming fast cars headed in the other direction. Very crazy!
As we leave Beirut for the country side of Lebanon the sun begins to rise. The beautiful valleys and mountains are very surreal and it hard to believe we are actually traveling through Lebanon on our way to Syria. About every ten miles we pass through military check points and as well there are tanks and anti-aircraft guns placed randomly on the side of the road. The drive is beautiful and exhilarating. I want to sleep (Joe) but I can't because I want to take in every detail and see every sight. We get to a point in which their seems to be much construction and so the taxi pulls off the highway and heads down into this valley even though it seems as though there is a bridge across it. As we move through the valley I see why we didn't go across the bridge. The middle of it is missing and it looks like a missile may have hit it (my assumption was right). In last summers war between Israel and Hezbollah the Israelis blew up many bridge and this was one of them.
(this is a picture of the bridge from the internet - again i was not snapping pics of a blown-up bridge as a new guest in an unfamiliar country)
As we drive i see McDonald's, Dunkin Donuts and KFC so I know that freedom is taking root in Lebanon which makes me happy to see. Our taxi pulls over for a guy standing on the side of the road and we add another passenger who sits in the back with Ashley and I. As our new passenger is getting in the car a soldier carrying his M-16 machine gun opens the front door and gets in as the other front seat passenger is forced to move to the center seat. Now we have three passengers in the front and three in the back. Our fully loaded car moves forward toward the Syrian border. After about 20 minutes we drop off the soldier (he didn't pay but I assume when you have a giant gun you don't have to). We pulled up to the border and everyone in the car gets out to walk into the border station to validate their passport or get a Visa. This is where our trip gets slowed down a bit. The border agents (meaning soldiers) tell us that we must wait until some office opens in Damascus to make sure we should be allowed into Syria. Also take into consideration that we hand the lead border agent a printed off piece of paper (that my sister had sent to us in an email) with Arabic writing explaining that we are friends of one of my sisters friends who has a friend who works somewhere in the Syrian Government (this always works in the movies, right?). The agent tells us we must wait a few hours. So we take our luggage out of the taxi that we paid to take us all the way to Damascus. The driver and other passengers wish us luck and the taxi pulls away (very nice people).
Luckily down the street from the border office there is a cafe and duty free shop (totally out of place in this run down border crossing) where the officer tells us to go and wait. It is 7:30am at this point. Ashley and I head to the cafe and each buy a juice. We have not slept at all in about 24 hours so I lay my head on the cafe table and fall asleep for about 30 minutes. After a little rest and walking around the duty free shop we head back over to the border and check on our visa. We are told to go wait they have not received the confirmation fax yet (in a not very nice tone of voice). For the next six hours we play cards, walk around the duty free shop and from time to time walk back to the border office to check up on our visas. Each time we are practically ignored and told to go sit down with no explanation of when we might know if we will get a visa or not, but we patiently wait tell about 1:30pm when we are told we need to each pay $16 dollars for the visa and we can be on our way. There is no bank, and no ATM at the boarder and with only 30 Euros, three USD and $300 in travelers checks in our possesion we try to figure out how to pay for the visa. Their is currency changer booth but it wont cash the travelers checks. So i convert the 30 euros into 44 USD and added that to the other three i have for a total of 47 USD. I pay the border agent 32 USD and so we have 15 USD left to try to pay a taxi driver to take us from the border to Syria. We find a man that will take us for five dollars each....yes we still have 5 dollars in our pocket!!!
A picture of the ever elusive Syrian Visa.
As we begin our car ride the young man sitting next to me in the back seat of the taxi speaks a small bit of English. He tells me he is from Iraq and I tell him I am from America and we smile and shake hands. I thought it was a pretty cool moment.
As we drove into the chaotic city of Damascus I was relieved. I though "Praise God for all the safety He provided us and for the answered prayers of getting a Syrian Visa". What a day!
But the story does not end there. The taxi cab driver was kind enough to let us use his cell phone to call my sister Joanna. She was just finishing class at the university at the other end of the city. I handed the phone back to the taxi driver so that he could speak with Joanna in Arabic about where to drop us off in the city. The taxi driver said he would wait with us until Joanna arrived. Unknowing to us the taxi driver drove us to his house. He didn't speak English so there was a lack of communication. He park his car and told us to follow him. We follow him into a shop and up about three flights of back stairs to his house. His wife and daughter served us tea and cookies. So crazy!!
Tea time at our taxi drivers house.
But in the end we finally got to Joanna and were relieved we had made it!!
Celebrating with Joanna over some delicious food and tasty hookah.
