The border crossing FROM HELL
so i've been hearing that crossing from Lebanon back into Syria would be a pain, especially for Americans. I requested a multiple entry visa back in the US, but they only granted me a single entry, for what reason I'm not sure. So really, i can't blame syria (but i sorta do anyway) since I knowingly left and entered Lebanon without having prepared another visa.
I left Becharre at 9 and headed to Tripoli by mini bus. I decided not to stay a night because the Serbian guy at my hotel told me it wasn't worth visiting. On arrival I beelined straight to the bus company to syria. stupidly i said i had no visa and they outright refused to take me since they knew that i'd get stuck at the border. There was much confusion after this, and I somehow mistakenly got sent to the Lebanese immigration office. They made me leave my pack at the front gate and accused me of carrying a bomb (uhm...no, really officer. no bomb.) and then the immigration officers tried to give me another stamp to travel within Lebanon even though I kept saying I wanted to go to Syria. After an hour wasted and quite a bit of exasperation on my part, I FINALLY went back to the bus company and convinced them to take me by saying they could leave me at the border if there were any problems.
and yes, there were problems.
when I arrived I was very hopeful. There was another American girl--she had arrived 2 hours earlier. She said that since I've already been in once the background check was already done and that I should have my visa in a jiffy. She left me 3 hours later and I settled in for a wait.
The most I had heard of somebody waiting for a visa was 8 hours, so I mentally prepared myself for this, but after hearing what the American girl said and seeing her leave after 5 hours I really didn't expect to ever reach that point. I sat patiently in a plastic chair, smiling and nodding at hundreds of people passing through. The guards gave me reassuring faces, gave me tea and told me to wait longer.
Hours 1 through 5 I was cool as a cucumber! i had endless patience! I was buddha goddamit!
Hours 5 through 6 I was starting to get a little antsy, but kept a smile pasted on my face.
By hour 7 something snapped. I remember hearing a story about an American girl crying her way through the jordanian border. I squeezed out some tears (not difficult, i was hungry, tired, and extremely crabby by this point) and looked through wet lashes at the guards. no dice.
Hour 8 rolled around and I was pissed. I went up to a guard and asked why there was such a delay. In broken english he told me he didn't know and motioned to a hospital bed that I would have to sleep on for the night. I screamed some more in english even though nobody understood me. I felt guilty afterwards.
NINE HOURS. NINE !"£$%^&* HOURS at that goddamn border, and they FINALLY let me through. By that point traffic through was at a standstill. I wasn't even sure if I would be able to get any transport to Aleppo. I think the guard took pity on me though, he arranged for a bus to wait for me on the other side of the border.
This of course was filled with 15 men who spoke no english...and me. This, of course, didn't stop them from trying to talk to me. In fact they spent a large portion of the time taking pictures of me and trying to feed me watermelon seeds. by now i must have thousands of pictures of me and strange men floating around on people's cell phones.
They dumped me on the side of a dark highway near Aleppo around 3am. I was afraid--i hadn't been out this late by myself at all on this trip, i was always with somebody. but one of the guys made sure to flag down a taxi, bargain a price for me, and even wrote down the license plate number. I'm not sure if he would actually check with the police later to make sure the taxi would get me to the hotel, but there was something reassuring about him writing down the number anyway.
I left Becharre at 9 and headed to Tripoli by mini bus. I decided not to stay a night because the Serbian guy at my hotel told me it wasn't worth visiting. On arrival I beelined straight to the bus company to syria. stupidly i said i had no visa and they outright refused to take me since they knew that i'd get stuck at the border. There was much confusion after this, and I somehow mistakenly got sent to the Lebanese immigration office. They made me leave my pack at the front gate and accused me of carrying a bomb (uhm...no, really officer. no bomb.) and then the immigration officers tried to give me another stamp to travel within Lebanon even though I kept saying I wanted to go to Syria. After an hour wasted and quite a bit of exasperation on my part, I FINALLY went back to the bus company and convinced them to take me by saying they could leave me at the border if there were any problems.
and yes, there were problems.
when I arrived I was very hopeful. There was another American girl--she had arrived 2 hours earlier. She said that since I've already been in once the background check was already done and that I should have my visa in a jiffy. She left me 3 hours later and I settled in for a wait.
The most I had heard of somebody waiting for a visa was 8 hours, so I mentally prepared myself for this, but after hearing what the American girl said and seeing her leave after 5 hours I really didn't expect to ever reach that point. I sat patiently in a plastic chair, smiling and nodding at hundreds of people passing through. The guards gave me reassuring faces, gave me tea and told me to wait longer.
Hours 1 through 5 I was cool as a cucumber! i had endless patience! I was buddha goddamit!
Hours 5 through 6 I was starting to get a little antsy, but kept a smile pasted on my face.
By hour 7 something snapped. I remember hearing a story about an American girl crying her way through the jordanian border. I squeezed out some tears (not difficult, i was hungry, tired, and extremely crabby by this point) and looked through wet lashes at the guards. no dice.
Hour 8 rolled around and I was pissed. I went up to a guard and asked why there was such a delay. In broken english he told me he didn't know and motioned to a hospital bed that I would have to sleep on for the night. I screamed some more in english even though nobody understood me. I felt guilty afterwards.
NINE HOURS. NINE !"£$%^&* HOURS at that goddamn border, and they FINALLY let me through. By that point traffic through was at a standstill. I wasn't even sure if I would be able to get any transport to Aleppo. I think the guard took pity on me though, he arranged for a bus to wait for me on the other side of the border.
This of course was filled with 15 men who spoke no english...and me. This, of course, didn't stop them from trying to talk to me. In fact they spent a large portion of the time taking pictures of me and trying to feed me watermelon seeds. by now i must have thousands of pictures of me and strange men floating around on people's cell phones.
They dumped me on the side of a dark highway near Aleppo around 3am. I was afraid--i hadn't been out this late by myself at all on this trip, i was always with somebody. but one of the guys made sure to flag down a taxi, bargain a price for me, and even wrote down the license plate number. I'm not sure if he would actually check with the police later to make sure the taxi would get me to the hotel, but there was something reassuring about him writing down the number anyway.
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