Caucasian Vacation Part II: Armenia (TMBCITW)
With our plans set(sort of), and our tickets purchased, we were off to the airport with one bag apiece, a few hundred dollars, fully charged IPods, and a desire to see the most beatuful country in the world(TMBCITW). Getting to the airport is never really a problem in Aleppo as taxis love to drive out there since they can try to stiff you for more money. Lucky for us we knew the scheme and knew exactly how much to pay. Arrival at the airport was mildly amusing since it was Friday afternoon and everyone was out having a picnic in the median and sides of the road, next to the airport highway. The exciting youth were doing there best to wreck thier motorcycles showing off to one another(and anyone else who would look), as well as run into cars, people, and the random concrete object.
In Aleppo the airport is always fun becuase everytime you go inside, you just never know what will happen. Sometimes you can purchase your exit stamp at a window in the lobby. Sometimes at a window on the other side of the security check. Sometimes you can get it from the guy that is checking your passport. This time it was out in the lobby; we found this out after having gone through all the security checks and then having to walk all the way back out to pay two bucks for a stamp. The window inside had been covered in carboard and taped shut with no sign. The best part about this was that we just walked right back through all of the security checks without being checked. What's up gun or bomb! How easy would that be. We didn't even go back through the screeners. Eh no problem just go right ahead! Needless to say we felt EXTRA safe in the Aleppo airport. We arrived with about an hour and a half to spare and had to convince the lazy slacker behind the counter that we actaully DID want to check our bags, and that meant that he actually DID have to type on his little computer. AFter checknig in, and getting our bags checked, we took our carry-ons up stairs to the duty-free. On previous travels I had learned that a friend of ours from last year was currently working in this particular shop, and I wanted to go see if he was working so Chris could say hi. I also wanted to buy some headphones...my crappy Ipod earbuds were buzzing and I wanted something that wasn't the size of an Air Traffic Controller's headset for my week long travels. After finding Salaam, and getting some headphones, Chris and I settled in for a short wait until our flight began boarding. So we thought.
When we walked upstairs we noticed on one of the screens that our flight would be boarding soon, and when we went back to check, the sign said our flight was boarding. The only thing was, the giant line of old russian looking ladies sitting and waiting told us that the plane wasn't boarding yet. We asked at the boarding checkpoint and they told us upstairs. Ok, so we went upstairs and looked for a gate. I didn't remember a gate upstairs but maybe they were adding on. Nope. There is no gate upstairs...they were telling us to wait upstairs. After pacing around for a while, and not seeing any planes on the tarmac, we decided the plane we were catching a ride on hadn't arrived yet. So there we were, in the airport, at the beginning of "three hour tour." We checked many times snd still nothing had changed. I asked inside the duty free (for aspirin first!) and they said the plane hadn't arrived yet, and the airline was buying everyone a beverage. Well hot damn a beverage! My time is deffinitely worth less than a two cent coffee! After sipping our "expresso" I overheard one of the employees say something in Arabic about something was coming after ten. Chris and I assumed that meant the plane and groaned in synchronicity. "Welcome in Syria!" Now we were scrambling for some entertainment.
Usually I travel with many things, and a deck of cards is one of them. For some reason I left my cards at home when we were packing and had to go back into the duty-free for some cards. The only cards they had were some Heineken cards that came in a promotional pack of three cans of beer(who drinks three beers), or with a cheap bottle of whisky. The beers were the cheapest option (we could drink them later), and they also came with a pen, a notepad, and DICE! After playing a few games of cards I started explaining how to play craps to Chris(thanks Dave). Shortly we were rollin' the bones against a wall in the airport betting with our new cards that we had split for placing bets. Gambling in Syria is illegal, but playing for cards isn't! After a short while we gathered a crowd of seedy looking russian guys around us. All extremely curious about what we were playing, and wanting in on the action. I think they understood the idea that we were playing a dice game, and it was a betting game, but after that the concept was lost. We let them throw and chatted with them a bit, but then they started pulling money out and started betting in Armenian on each others roll. We had to explain to a young guy that had pretty good English that it was illegal and he should tell them. He was from Aleppo and knew already, and quickly told them to hide their money or they will get in trouble. They just took our cards and spread them over the pile of cash. By this time we were just amused by the scene and sat watching. Eventually they won/lost and went away. Back to throwing for cards. The young guy came back over to us and told us that these were bad men, criminals, and we should stay away. How fitting, the first people we meet on our way to a failed Russian state were considered criminals by thier own kind. SWEET!
Eventually we saw the old ladies start to rile and shift, signalling the arrival of the airplane. This was about ten-thirty in the evening. So after many hands of cards, many games of craps, music, Sudoku, reading books, and chatting to people, our plane finally arrived. Getting on the plane was a different story. When I first arrived in Syria I was amazed at how unorganized everything was. Nobody knew how to line up, stay within lines, or had any idea of taking turns. Everything was, for a lack of a better word, a clusterfuck. This how arabs are...Armenians are worse. I saw people climbing over each other to get in line, cutting, pushing; it was mayhem. Everyone was running like it was the last roll of toilet paper on Mother Russia's shelf. We just waited back and let everyone push ahead. We had been waiting all that time...what was a few more minutes.
Once we were on the plane it was more of the same. I actually felt really bad for the flight attendants. They were screaming at the passengers like you would an unruly class of children. Saying things like "we can't take off unless you all sit down!" I was half expecting the captian to shout over the intercomm "do you want me to pull this plane over?!" People were stealing each others seats, yelling at each other over luggage. At one point a steward just looked at me sitting there calmly, and shook his head. I couldn't help but start to laugh. I apologized to him and told him that I sympathized. He was oviously flustered, and for an Arab to be flustered with a crowd of people really says something. When all the "children" were put into the correct seats, and all the "crying" had stopped, we were ready for takeoff. What a mess, but I now know a group of people worse than Arabs at lining-up...Russians!
Chris was sitting ahead of me on the flight. Our ticket agent didn't book us together, so we just listed to music and worked on the same Sudoku puzzles. Racing each other in seperate seats as we flew through the night sky. Our competition was interrupted by an evening meal. We didn't expect that...and it was actually good(who would expect that)! After my meal I finished my puzzle ahead of Chris and promptly got up to rub his nose in it (he always beats me in chess). Then we started our desent. After all that time waiting, our flight was only just over an hour. The wierd thing was that even though Armenia is not located much further East than Syria, it was two hours ahead on the clock. Just one of the many ways, we were soon to find out, why Armenia was "special."
Tune in next time to find out why a statue of two fingers explains a mother's sorrow for her lost children...
In Aleppo the airport is always fun becuase everytime you go inside, you just never know what will happen. Sometimes you can purchase your exit stamp at a window in the lobby. Sometimes at a window on the other side of the security check. Sometimes you can get it from the guy that is checking your passport. This time it was out in the lobby; we found this out after having gone through all the security checks and then having to walk all the way back out to pay two bucks for a stamp. The window inside had been covered in carboard and taped shut with no sign. The best part about this was that we just walked right back through all of the security checks without being checked. What's up gun or bomb! How easy would that be. We didn't even go back through the screeners. Eh no problem just go right ahead! Needless to say we felt EXTRA safe in the Aleppo airport. We arrived with about an hour and a half to spare and had to convince the lazy slacker behind the counter that we actaully DID want to check our bags, and that meant that he actually DID have to type on his little computer. AFter checknig in, and getting our bags checked, we took our carry-ons up stairs to the duty-free. On previous travels I had learned that a friend of ours from last year was currently working in this particular shop, and I wanted to go see if he was working so Chris could say hi. I also wanted to buy some headphones...my crappy Ipod earbuds were buzzing and I wanted something that wasn't the size of an Air Traffic Controller's headset for my week long travels. After finding Salaam, and getting some headphones, Chris and I settled in for a short wait until our flight began boarding. So we thought.
When we walked upstairs we noticed on one of the screens that our flight would be boarding soon, and when we went back to check, the sign said our flight was boarding. The only thing was, the giant line of old russian looking ladies sitting and waiting told us that the plane wasn't boarding yet. We asked at the boarding checkpoint and they told us upstairs. Ok, so we went upstairs and looked for a gate. I didn't remember a gate upstairs but maybe they were adding on. Nope. There is no gate upstairs...they were telling us to wait upstairs. After pacing around for a while, and not seeing any planes on the tarmac, we decided the plane we were catching a ride on hadn't arrived yet. So there we were, in the airport, at the beginning of "three hour tour." We checked many times snd still nothing had changed. I asked inside the duty free (for aspirin first!) and they said the plane hadn't arrived yet, and the airline was buying everyone a beverage. Well hot damn a beverage! My time is deffinitely worth less than a two cent coffee! After sipping our "expresso" I overheard one of the employees say something in Arabic about something was coming after ten. Chris and I assumed that meant the plane and groaned in synchronicity. "Welcome in Syria!" Now we were scrambling for some entertainment.
Usually I travel with many things, and a deck of cards is one of them. For some reason I left my cards at home when we were packing and had to go back into the duty-free for some cards. The only cards they had were some Heineken cards that came in a promotional pack of three cans of beer(who drinks three beers), or with a cheap bottle of whisky. The beers were the cheapest option (we could drink them later), and they also came with a pen, a notepad, and DICE! After playing a few games of cards I started explaining how to play craps to Chris(thanks Dave). Shortly we were rollin' the bones against a wall in the airport betting with our new cards that we had split for placing bets. Gambling in Syria is illegal, but playing for cards isn't! After a short while we gathered a crowd of seedy looking russian guys around us. All extremely curious about what we were playing, and wanting in on the action. I think they understood the idea that we were playing a dice game, and it was a betting game, but after that the concept was lost. We let them throw and chatted with them a bit, but then they started pulling money out and started betting in Armenian on each others roll. We had to explain to a young guy that had pretty good English that it was illegal and he should tell them. He was from Aleppo and knew already, and quickly told them to hide their money or they will get in trouble. They just took our cards and spread them over the pile of cash. By this time we were just amused by the scene and sat watching. Eventually they won/lost and went away. Back to throwing for cards. The young guy came back over to us and told us that these were bad men, criminals, and we should stay away. How fitting, the first people we meet on our way to a failed Russian state were considered criminals by thier own kind. SWEET!
Eventually we saw the old ladies start to rile and shift, signalling the arrival of the airplane. This was about ten-thirty in the evening. So after many hands of cards, many games of craps, music, Sudoku, reading books, and chatting to people, our plane finally arrived. Getting on the plane was a different story. When I first arrived in Syria I was amazed at how unorganized everything was. Nobody knew how to line up, stay within lines, or had any idea of taking turns. Everything was, for a lack of a better word, a clusterfuck. This how arabs are...Armenians are worse. I saw people climbing over each other to get in line, cutting, pushing; it was mayhem. Everyone was running like it was the last roll of toilet paper on Mother Russia's shelf. We just waited back and let everyone push ahead. We had been waiting all that time...what was a few more minutes.
Once we were on the plane it was more of the same. I actually felt really bad for the flight attendants. They were screaming at the passengers like you would an unruly class of children. Saying things like "we can't take off unless you all sit down!" I was half expecting the captian to shout over the intercomm "do you want me to pull this plane over?!" People were stealing each others seats, yelling at each other over luggage. At one point a steward just looked at me sitting there calmly, and shook his head. I couldn't help but start to laugh. I apologized to him and told him that I sympathized. He was oviously flustered, and for an Arab to be flustered with a crowd of people really says something. When all the "children" were put into the correct seats, and all the "crying" had stopped, we were ready for takeoff. What a mess, but I now know a group of people worse than Arabs at lining-up...Russians!
Chris was sitting ahead of me on the flight. Our ticket agent didn't book us together, so we just listed to music and worked on the same Sudoku puzzles. Racing each other in seperate seats as we flew through the night sky. Our competition was interrupted by an evening meal. We didn't expect that...and it was actually good(who would expect that)! After my meal I finished my puzzle ahead of Chris and promptly got up to rub his nose in it (he always beats me in chess). Then we started our desent. After all that time waiting, our flight was only just over an hour. The wierd thing was that even though Armenia is not located much further East than Syria, it was two hours ahead on the clock. Just one of the many ways, we were soon to find out, why Armenia was "special."
Tune in next time to find out why a statue of two fingers explains a mother's sorrow for her lost children...
posted by chris @ Saturday, May 06, 2006
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