We go to the embassy. He has only a vague idea about what he wants to do in America but I suppose it would be a boost to the career of any young Lebanese to live in the states for a while, but the counselor turns him down flat!
On the street outside the embassy he turns on me with rage. Why didn’t I get him his visa?!
What a jerk.
I don’t argue. What could I say? That I’m sorry he’s so stupid?
After his blow-up he seems much calmer. Now he says, he feels better than he has for weeks. Now he is free to open a branch of his father’s clothing store here. Nice to have an alternative plan!
He walks with me across town to the Damascus Taxi Stand. I pick one and when it fills with passengers, we’re off and I’m free again!
...
No comments:
Post a Comment