My taxi driver drove in a way like he was cheerfully possessed, snaking from left to right and right to left in a break-neck speed, and laughed in an ecstatic manner. I was holding the seat tightly all the way from Harasta station to Al-Haramein, still I have no idea he was way too happy to get a customer that day, or too enthusiastic to show off his driving skill, or simply this was the way he tried to express the hospitality.

Aside the initial excitement, here in Damascus I felt most at ease and was continuously amazed by her ... (more)