the adventures of my stuff

my cell phone

on one of my last days in damascus, after a long day of wandering the lanes of the old city i realized that i didn't have my phone.  but i was sure i had seen it in my bag when i left the apartment in the morning.  had i or hadn't i, i really couldn't remember.  so i went back to the apartment and as soon as i saw that it wasn't there i remembered where i had last used it.  i had been at an internet cafe in the morning and had pulled it out ... and left it at my station.  now.. the trick was to remember how to get back to that internet cafe somewhere in all those winding lanes.

i found it.  walked in.  he opened a drawer and pulled out my phone.  thank you soo much!

my computer

i left damascus last friday.  i wanted to leave very early in the morning to avoid any potential problems along the way to the border with jordan.  i was up at 6a.m., in a shared taxi leaving damascus by 7a.m. and at the border by 8a.m.  all went well.

i spent all of friday with mohammed and his family who were hosting me in irbid.  so it wasn't until saturday morning that i went deeper into my backpack and was very disappointed when i realized that i had stupidly left my computer on the shelf in ryan's apartment.  i remember putting it there and thinking to myself not to forget it...i ran off to get a new sim card and then phoned her.. yes it was there.  i emailed another traveler who was still in damascus to see if he could bring it with him to amman.  he couldn't make contact with her, so on monday she took it to dhl and let me know that it should arrive in 2 days.  but of course it was delayed getting out of damascus.  then via the UAE, it arrived in amman today.  i will go pick it up tomorrow, after it has cleared security.

a small day bag

this is a story i was waiting to write once i got to cairo, but i can't wait any longer.

when darrin and i set off on our tour of egypt i left a daybag behind at the hostel.  it contained stuff that i really didn't need to lug around on our little trip and many other things that i wanted darrin to take back with him.  we would be returning to cairo in about 2 weeks.

well ... you know what happened.  there was a revolution.  i didn't go back to cairo.  darrin got back to cairo but because of the protesting, the guys at the hostel couldn't get the bag over to the hotel near the airport where he was staying.  soon after, i went to sinai to wait things out.

at first i didn't know what to do about this bag.  it would be very inconvenient to back track to cairo.  should i just let it go.. did i really need anything in that bag?  the guys at the hostel said not to worry, they would keep it for me until i came back.  this created a new plan, a plan that i was very happy with.  i had an excuse to go back to cairo after i was done with the rest of the region.

i have kept in touch with Dia and Adel by phone and email, giving them updates on my trip and checking to see how they are.  as i am getting closer to the end of this journey, i sent them an email today to let them know i will be back in cairo in about 3 weeks.  less than an hour later i got this reply

hello B.

we hope that you are in safe as you choose the most unrest country to visit (seryia )
but i think in Jordan is much better
we are interesting to hear from you until you arrive safely to Cairo
also we would like to inform you that your bag is in the Store bags of the hostel and its safe and we don't have any problem to keep it like that even for year more so don't worry about it
we are looking forward to see you soon
adel

this gave me a big smile.  i really haven't been worried.  i can't imagine too many other places where you could leave your bag (almost 4 months), no charge, and trust that it is safe. 

so if anybody is looking for a good clean friendly hostel in the centre of cairo, then the Travelers House Hostel is the only one I would recommend.

i am looking forward to getting back to cairo

Ezzeddine

today i was leaving irbid and going to amman, stopping in jerash to see the ruins.  i don't know if i need to see anymore ruins, but i couldn't think of anything else to do.

when i saw the ruins as we approached town, i indicated to the bus driver that i wanted off.  he did as i asked, but it was no where near the entrance.  i walked and walked.  a taxi driver going by stopped, asked if i wanted the entrance, yes, get in i'll take you - free.  thank you.

but when i got out and saw the hundreds and hundreds of school kids going in i wanted to get back in.  my version of a migraine.  the noise.  endless hello what's your name hello what's your name hello....

i wandered around the site for a couple of hours, trying to avoid the school girls, but something just wasn't right, i wasn't feeling nice at all, maybe pms?

enuf.  i might as well start trying to get to amman.  i needed a taxi to get to the bus station and typical, never any taxis when you want one.  a chocolate bar would've helped, but nothing... no shops, no taxis, just lots of noisy traffic.

this was also one of those days when it seemed everyone was staring at me.

hello what's your name hello what's your name, staring, no taxis, no chocolate.  aghhh!

then there was a taxi.  yay!  but man oh man, the two guys in the taxi were taking forever to settle things and get out.  finally, i put my bag in the back, shut the trunk, the back door and the front door, as i got in, a little too loudly.  with a big smile, he said, shhh... sorry.

i explained i would like to go to the bus station, to go to amman.  he is going to amman.  oh no.  just the bus station please (bus fare to amman, 1 JOD).  he will take me to amman for 5 JOD.  are you serious (taxi to amman, minimum 15 JOD)?  yes, he just brought those two men from amman and is going back empty.  i still couldn't believe my fortune.  yes, i am a foolish man, and i want you to be happy.  and i am a lucky woman.

then he asked if i had time.. he took a little detour and drove me up into the hills outside of town, to the top where there was peace, olive trees, birds chirping, and a beautiful view in all directions.  i went off to breathe, he went to pray.

ezzeddine, 50, was a teacher and has been driving taxi for three years.  he asked about my trip.  i told him i am going to palestine next.  he is from palestine, from nablus, but unlike me, he can't go.  he bought me a juice and water for the ride.  he told me stories and we talked about islam.

he dropped me right at the place i wanted to be in amman.  of course i paid him more than 5 JOD, but he wouldn't take what i wanted to give.

he had arrived just in time saving me from the rough patch i was in.  and i was left feeling overwhelmed by the kindness, again.

there was a knock at my door

"when i see you, my heart is like 7 cows"

well, that is quite a sentiment.  he pointed to the new jeans he had bought and to his haircut.  i accepted the glass of syrian wine he offered, but refused the kiss.  i insisted i was very very tired, then retreated to my room, locked the door ... and chuckled.

The Tourist Hotel

I took the 7a.m. train from Damascus to Aleppo.  The 5hr trip cost $4.80.

I arrived, caught a taxi to the hotel, dumped my bag in a cute little room, and started walking, eager to see the famous souqs of Aleppo.

However... I didn't have a map of the city, I didn't grab a business card of the hotel, I didn't do a check of the nearby landmarks.  When I tried to find my way back, I couldn't.

And unfortunately the name of the hotel is Tourist Hotel.  I gave up asking for help.  Every hotel was the answer to my question.

crossing the border

the official line is that you have to get a visa for syria in your home country.  of course that wasn't possible for me.  i had also read that you can sometimes get a visa at the border, depends who you are, what day it is, and who is on duty. i know a canadian who recently crossed without problems, but also met a brit and a french guy who were turned back.  i was confident i would get through.

two dutch, a polish guy and myself were sharing a taxi from beirut to damascus.  we got stamped out of lebanon and then moved on to the syrian border control. 

clearly it is possible to get a visa at the border... there is a large board listing every nationality and the entry fee for each.  nigerians are the most welcome, only $4.  congolese are the least welcome, $250.  I handed over $56.  he gave me a big smile as he took my money and sent me to get stamped in, where i was also welcomed with a smile.  we all made it thru... except for the young polish guy, no reason given.  he turned back to beirut and a german couple joined our taxi.

next our bags needed to be inspected.  the germans had cookies so they sailed through.  the others had small day bags as they were just going for the weekend.  i started pulling my stuff out.  i hesitated a moment as i pulled out a ziplock bag full of tampons.  the policeman looked at the bag, looked at me.  he poked at the bag, then spoke to me in arabic.  what could i say?  i had no idea how to explain those little white pellets.  he spoke to his colleagues, then looked through the rest of my things and came back to the tampons, lifting the bag, looking at it carefully.  all i could think to say was 'for women.'  more talking with the other men and finally he decided he was done with me.

i repacked my bag, we got in the taxi... and then laughed.

on to damascus.

to go or not to go

Beirut is beautiful.  The views from the corniche to the sea and the snow covered mountains were stunning.  Walking around the Hamra area even brought to mind memories of Vancouver.  Beirut felt like I had arrived in the West.

But with each day it became too much.  Hardees, KFC, Dunkin' Donuts, valet parking at Starbucks, La Senza, Dior, Zara, Espirit, Filipino nannies, Ferrari, Porsche, Audi, billboard after billboard on the glamour of weddings, plastic surgery, rampant consumerism.

And the traffic, the noise, the honking, the craziness.  Cars park where ever they please... double parking, parking on corners, on sidewalks.  Wrong way on one ways.  There are few traffic lights and fewer stop signs and these have no meaning anyway.  There are no rules.  As a pedestrian it was exhausting.

But the people are friendly and very welcoming.  And the food is some of the best in the world.  It has been a long time since I last looked forward to eating (in Uganda I decided that I would boycott all countries whose people had no enthusiasm for food preparation).

And during this whole time I watched the news intensely, to see what was happening in Syria.  I talked to people who were just there, to those who were thinking of going, and to those who were already there.  My plan changed almost daily.

I have finally made a decision.  I will go, with three others from the hostel.  We will share a taxi and go on Friday.