378
CAIRO TO DAMASCUS
It was vague, of course, but I had no desire to be specific
unless forced.
"Nothing is marked down on your passport. Nor do you
have a visa for Syria. If the Syrians send you back to us, we
won't be able to accept you because you have no Jordan
visa. . . ."
"I will then join your Bedouins and become a wandering
American,! I said jokingly.
"Oh, well, never mind." After a moment's hesitation, the
official added: "I hope you Americans will change your attitude on Zionism."
"I promise you that as a journalist I will do my best."
With this I was released. I couldn't get back to the taxi
fast enough. The pole across the roadway was raised; we were
soon whisked over the Jordan frontier into Syria.