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An Iraqi refugee, he has been embracing this corner of the world for the past 20 years, I used to buy coins from him when I was a kid. When he asked me about this sudden interest in taking a photo of him, I lied. I lied and told him I was going on a trip to the US and wanted my childhood memories to accompany me all the way over the Atlantic. And then, just at this moment a smile came along to shine his dark rough complexion. He rushed through his rusty, dusty old coins, pulled one out and asked me in kindness to memorize the symbol it carried on it. I observed the symbol and nodded. He then asked, “Can you get me a belt from the US with this symbol carved on its buckle on your way back to Jordan?”
“Would you wait for a year till I get back?” I replied.
“I would, even for five years,” he answered as if he was promised immortality.
“I will get you one,” I lied. I walked away, damned, banned from heaven, hovering in vain trying to recall the directions (North, South, West … East is no longer one of mine).
If you are interested in finding out what symbol he was talking about, check out the picture below !
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