The journey home

This is an account of the travel (or adventure rather) to Syria. You know how sometimes your heart starts telling you things before major steps like the one I took. Today was not an exception but it did prove right.
This was one of the few things, in addition to packing, that made me wish I didn't have to move. I don't wish this for any of you, but if it happens, know that you were not alone. Part of this was my own fault and the other is probably luck against me (or even with me). Regardless, I deserved it, and because I am a bad guy, I am still as sweet as you knew me (if that is how you did).

I said the final farewell to my roommate, Hassan, the day of travel (quasi-roommate is more like it). After extensive instructions, I took off with Phil to the airport. Hassan is supposed to stay in the apartment for another month, after which he will be Abdul Al-Shahed guest. I wished Abdul to be "alone" when I return.

At the airport, I checked in, sat and ate something as a breakfast, and talked a little bit with Phil, my twin friend for two years now. We said goodbyes and hugged (I don't know why no kisses), then I went through security. Which went well and quick, a full body search (including cavities, LOL, just kidding) was done. Things were so smooth I took one of the books I had, The Hobbit, and started reading it. The flight to Cincinnati was on schedule, arrived on schedule, and was eventless.

Upon arrival I started looking for the Immigration special registration office. This is a requirement upon traveling out of USA so I can come back. And we do that because my Syrian citizenship makes me a suspected terrorist by default!!!! I asked the first information center, the second information center, and the third. None was of any help until they decided to ask someone at customs.
They said: "sorry, but we don't do that here, this is not a designated exit port!!"
"And ..." I said.
"Did you write a letter for permission?"
"No, shall I"
"You should have"
I had no clue I should, and there was no supervisor or senior to talk to, or even send a fax. "So what should I do?"
"Try Atlanta"

2:15 PM (EST)It was as simple as that. Try to get to Atlanta and do something about the registration there. I had no other choice; I went to Delta airlines and explained the situation. The lady there was so helpful. At the beginning she was looking for Atlanta and had to probably bump me to the next day. Not happening. I called my travel agent, who can't do anything now since the flight is ticketed. But fortunately he gave me another option through JFK if they can do that.
The lady didn't agree as she thought that was not a 24 hour location. Well it was and after verification she issued another flight for me from Cincinnati to New York at 4:10 PM then from New York to Paris at 10:55 PM. I would have one hour and a half in Paris for connecting. The bags were taken care of too.

3:45 PM We still did not board, there is some talk about technical difficulties.
4:00 PM The problem is not yet solved, but they boarded us anyway
4:30 PM Attempting to fly. Engines are working, we start to move along to the runway, but the power is out. "We have lost our auxiliary power supply, we will try t fix it" the captain says. "Not now" I thought to myself, this is already looking nasty.
5:10 PM We take off one hour late, arrive an hour late of course in JFK, terminal 2. Then I had to go to terminal 4 for registration, then back to terminal 1 for the flight. I am already outside the airport by doing that, which means I have to be searched again, Urghhh.
8:00 PM I arrive at the registration area. An African (real African) lady is in charge of my case. She gave me all kind of bullshit before she registers me. Now that is done, I go to terminal 1 for checking in. There was a half-hour wait before I got my tickets and headed to the security check. Checking here was different, there is a machine that puffs and huffs and messes your hairdo (that is the best account I have for what it does). After that I went to the gate. By this time I needed medicine badly, I was starting to have a stress ulcer, so I decided to get alcohol. Alcohol was wine, and wine helps. It actually helped me sleep on the way to Paris
10:35 PM boarding started, which sounded promising. Boarding was chaotic, first come first serve. No first class, no business, no elite, just nothing. And believe me, there were a lot who came first. I got the window seat in the last row of the plane. That meant I was the last one to ever leave the plane. I have two carry-ons with me and after fitting the first above my head I tried to fit the other under my legs, it didn't. The boy next to me was apparently French, I told him (in English) that I want to try and put the other one in the top compartment.
"Je parle Francais" he said.
Ok then so I have to use my French now.
"Je….Urrrr" I said. Then I thought "screw it, use sign language". I discovered that my French is really rusty (and even that is a very generous description).
10:55 PM We should take off, we didn't.
11:15 PM Not yet, we didn't.
11:40 PM We took off to Paris. I was excited about getting an Air France flight instead of Delta, because their TV/radio program was fabulous. Lots of movies and music and miscellaneous. Unfortunately we can't use the entertainment monitor until we were in flight.
12:20 AM "Unfortunately you can't use the entertainment monitor for technical problems". Great, just what I needed. Maybe that was good because I slept. Wine rules.

My flight from Paris is at 1:20 PM.
12:20 PM (Paris Time) The plane lands. We wait for the shuttles, and of course I am the last one, almost, to ride. And I had to change terminals.
12:50 PM I get off the shuttle to the terminal. After I wasted 10 minutes in a line I shouldn't be in. I take another shuttle to the final terminal.
1:15 PM I arrive at the terminal and run like crazy with two carry-ons weighing 25 and 40 lbs respectively. Luckily enough I made to the plane shuttle on time. They were expecting me and would not fly without. I was all exhausted, all sweat, and breathless (I must have used all my lactic acid for energy in the process).

The flight to Damascus is scheduled for 1:20
1:50 PM We take off. No trouble during the flight. Miss Congeniality 2 was played. 5/10.
7:13 PM (Damascus time) Our plane lands in Damascus airport.
7:33 PM I step on Syrian ground for the first time after 4.5 years.
7:45 PM My bags got hand searched, my dad says they never so that to him. WHY ME!!!!!!!! Regardless, it is amazing after all this that my bags arrived, sound and safe.
7:50 PM I meet my folks.
10: 00 PM Food, glorious food...

To be continued.