After getting the Turkish exit stamp we walked across the road to Syrian immigration. There was a fenced off area at the border that seemed to have prisoners in it and next to it a group of about thirty men were screaming to be let out of the chain link fence connected to Turkey.
We took a breath and went in the office.
Syrian immigration had lines of waiting locals and lots of peeling paint. When we showed our US passports we were taken to an office in the back to meet the head guy. He was promptly joined by 5 others in military uniforms. Our smiles were loosing their shapes by the second. The head guy was large and spoke to us in pretty good English. We showed them our visa for Syria, told them where we were going to visit and told them that we did not know what hotels we would stay at. There were lots of other questions and we gave them all of our information both parents full names. We were asked our occupations but they could not understand the concept of wine sales. Gaby finally had to draw a picture of grapes with an arrow to a bottle with an arrow to a dollar sign. As most Muslims there don't drink alcohol our professions were somewhat frowned upon. I was asked to join two of the immigration officers to input some information in the computer in another office. Meanwhile Gaby stayed behind and was informed that she could not leave the office to join me. She was worried because she did not know what was happening to me in the other office.
We were eventually given the OK and there were handshakes and thank-yous all around.
We put our packs on and walked out into Syria.
On the way out a taxi driver asked if we wanted a ride. As we didn't have any Syrian money yet he agreed to take us for $8 dollars in Turkish money. A ridiculously expensive amount of money for locals but more than fine for us under the circumstances.
Qamishle was one of the ugliest, poorest and dirtiest towns we had ever seen anywhere. Huge piles of uncollected trash were blown around by dust storms that blanketed us with fine red powder that seemed to collect everywhere on us. The town was filthy and had little infrastructure. We had talked about taking a local train south but after seeing the town we headed straight for the bus station to take the first bus to Aleppo.
We walked into the bus station with our packs on and without any Syrian money. There were no ATM's in the town that we could see. We were promptly surrounded by three guys who asked us where we wanted to go. We answered Aleppo. With that they were joined by others who all yelled at us to take their bus. Gaby and I didn't know which bus companies there were best, so we just stood there. A crowed formed and people came to watch the bus companies fight each other over us. One called another company "crazy" and another tried to physically take us to their office. It was so bizarre that we could not believe it. We were finally given a recommendation by an onlooker and went to their office. We had to change money on the spot so a money changer was called. The cost of the 6 hour ride for the both of us was $3 dollars American.
We got on the bus. It was clean and very nice. As we finally left Qamishle we marveled at how filthy the town was with its sand storms and trash flying everywhere.
Heading toward Aleppo the scenery was poorer than Turkey. Flat, red, desolate desert with no vegetation. The villages we saw were mostly made of mud.
The bus continued and a Syrian movie played on the TV. The people around us stared at us. Syria was going to be a lot different....
Steve
We took a breath and went in the office.
Syrian immigration had lines of waiting locals and lots of peeling paint. When we showed our US passports we were taken to an office in the back to meet the head guy. He was promptly joined by 5 others in military uniforms. Our smiles were loosing their shapes by the second. The head guy was large and spoke to us in pretty good English. We showed them our visa for Syria, told them where we were going to visit and told them that we did not know what hotels we would stay at. There were lots of other questions and we gave them all of our information both parents full names. We were asked our occupations but they could not understand the concept of wine sales. Gaby finally had to draw a picture of grapes with an arrow to a bottle with an arrow to a dollar sign. As most Muslims there don't drink alcohol our professions were somewhat frowned upon. I was asked to join two of the immigration officers to input some information in the computer in another office. Meanwhile Gaby stayed behind and was informed that she could not leave the office to join me. She was worried because she did not know what was happening to me in the other office.
We were eventually given the OK and there were handshakes and thank-yous all around.
We put our packs on and walked out into Syria.
On the way out a taxi driver asked if we wanted a ride. As we didn't have any Syrian money yet he agreed to take us for $8 dollars in Turkish money. A ridiculously expensive amount of money for locals but more than fine for us under the circumstances.
Qamishle was one of the ugliest, poorest and dirtiest towns we had ever seen anywhere. Huge piles of uncollected trash were blown around by dust storms that blanketed us with fine red powder that seemed to collect everywhere on us. The town was filthy and had little infrastructure. We had talked about taking a local train south but after seeing the town we headed straight for the bus station to take the first bus to Aleppo.
We walked into the bus station with our packs on and without any Syrian money. There were no ATM's in the town that we could see. We were promptly surrounded by three guys who asked us where we wanted to go. We answered Aleppo. With that they were joined by others who all yelled at us to take their bus. Gaby and I didn't know which bus companies there were best, so we just stood there. A crowed formed and people came to watch the bus companies fight each other over us. One called another company "crazy" and another tried to physically take us to their office. It was so bizarre that we could not believe it. We were finally given a recommendation by an onlooker and went to their office. We had to change money on the spot so a money changer was called. The cost of the 6 hour ride for the both of us was $3 dollars American.
We got on the bus. It was clean and very nice. As we finally left Qamishle we marveled at how filthy the town was with its sand storms and trash flying everywhere.
Heading toward Aleppo the scenery was poorer than Turkey. Flat, red, desolate desert with no vegetation. The villages we saw were mostly made of mud.
The bus continued and a Syrian movie played on the TV. The people around us stared at us. Syria was going to be a lot different....
Steve
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