Syria Dec 2008 - Part 1

I Believe in Syria
December 2008

This is President Bashar Assad’s tag line. He stands by this message on larger than life billboards plastered around Syria. I saw one outside the main gate going into the covered souq of Old Damascus. I wondered what the people thought. Do they believe in Syria? I wanted to see if I too, would believe in Syria. I had ten days ahead of me to find out.

The ten days there was a mix of solo travel and family stays. I started in Old Damascus, went on a day trip with a family to Busra, spent two nights with a family in Hammah, two nights in Aleppo, and then returning to Old Damascus for another two nights. I missed some of the highlights for this country, like Palmera, where the old castle is, and going to the sea, but this gives me a good reason to return along with the singing Kurd and a job offer to sell soap.

My entry into Syria was an unknown. I did not have a visa and was at the mercy of the border guards. I paid $30 to go from Beirut to Damascus but didn’t think I would make it all the way without a visa and, sure enough, when the shared car I was in arrived at 9:00am at the border I was told I had to get out and wait to get the visa. I would have to make my own way the rest of the way even though I paid for all the way. I wasn’t surprised but knew I had been taken by the man at the hotel arranging the ride. He knew my situation and said no problem. He made an easy $15. The driver was paid $15 for taking me as far as he could. Oh well, that is life in the big city.

The car left me on top of the pass with the wind whipping across the barren, rocky land on a bleak winter day. What would be my fate? I waited and knitted and waited. Many people came and went quickly through the lines but no other tourists. Two hours passed as I sat in my seat in direct view of the not so happy border guard. I wanted to be seen in case he needed me for something. He did come out once to ask something but never gave me an indication of how long it may be. I have been told it could take three to five hours on a good day.

Desperate for a toilet and with no WC signs inside the small wait space, I ventured outside heading toward the Dunkin Donuts sign in front of a large mall. I left my pack behind so the guard wouldn’t think I gave up and was going to cross illegally. The Dunkin Donuts is only a shell now. Another coffee shop is in its place. The bathrooms were inside the mall and were clean. On my way out I ordered a bad coffee wondering how much longer I would have to wait. Not much longer as it turned out. After paying the fee and a few stamping noises I was free to roam about the country.

A site I came across for tour information.
http://userwww.sfsu.edu/~pstanley/syrtour.htm