Stars and Stripes Behind Concrete
[Amman, 7/14/25]
Like I said, much of Amman outside Al Balad is deadening, but today, I forced myself to leave it. Getting into a yellow taxi, I said, “US Embassy,” but the Jordanian driver didn’t understand, so I tried, “American Embassy.”
Wouldn’t I rather go to Jerash, he asked in Arabic. No, I want to see “that crazy place,” the American Embassy. To lighten the mood, I pointed to my Canon 80D, then make a motion of me being shot. We laughed. Dropping me off right in front of that menacing fortress, he was still grinning. Driving away from this symbol of single homes surrounded by lawns, stacked cheeseburgers, sexy come-ons and casual genocides, he must have checked his rearview mirror for anything too exciting.
The building was set way back from the concrete barriers and concrete wall. A black armored vehicle was visible. Armed soldiers were even stationed across the street. I’m guessing anybody important inside were way underground. I’ve seen similar US embassies in Rome and Mexico City, but the ones in Bangkok, Phnom Penh and Tirana weren’t so paranoid. After 9/11, the US Consulate in Leipzig enlarged its perimeter so many businesses that had benefited from it went under. Uncle Sam can’t fuss over collateral damages.
Just two minutes on foot from the US Embassy was the Indian’s. What a contrast. On its gate were two bright peacocks. Even a child can lob a hand grenade over its wall. With Brazil, Russia, China and South Africa, India was a founding member of BRICS, of course.
A day after reclaiming the White House, Trump threatened BRICS nations with “at least a 100% tariff.” He singled out Spain! Meanwhile, his Defense Secretary, Pete Hegseth, couldn’t name one country in ASEAN. As BRICS expands, the US contracts economically, politically, socially, intellectually and morally. Like its embassies, it’s turning into a walled compound oblivious to and fearful of everything outside.
Down the street was Phobia House. Its pitch, “NO BEACH? NO PROBLEM. LET’S ESCAPE.” Should the embassy be hit by Eyeranian missiles, the slightly nicked, singed and concussed ambassador can crawl from this haunted house through a connecting tunnel. “Damn!” he’ll spit. “Should have refused this fuckin’ post! There aren’t even fag bars in Amman!” In case you don’t know, the US diplomatic corp is choco packed with joyful queers. Breeders can’t just hop all over the world constantly.
The neighborhood, Abdoun, was filled with palatial houses surrounded by lush enough gardens of trimmed trees and shrubs. On just one block were Padova Italian, Fish Face Sushi and Mr. Burrito. Though super tempted by the Tex Mex, which I hadn’t had in years, I couldn’t wait to escape that snobby enclave. English predominated.
One cute flyer, “Hello my name is juli. I’m 9 years old and live in Abdoun. I would be happy if I could take care of your pet.” She means birds and cats. Below it was one for an English conversation club. Another flyer offered classical guitar lessons.
Taking another taxi back to Al Balad, I realized I had been cheated by the first driver. Though I did notice his meter was jumping too fast, I wasn’t 100% sure, so said nothing. I’ve also been had by a waiter and a cashier, but that’s not bad at all for over two weeks. At least I haven’t been drugged, robbed and left to lie face down on the ground, as happened in Laos. That Indian snake could have killed me. Traveling solo, you risk some mishaps, but anything is better than watching TV, playing video games or listening to songs you’ve heard a thousand times.
The second driver, a Palestinian, had some English. To my surprise, he was contemptuous of Hezbollah. They’re useless, he said. Only Hamas is willing to fight Jews. The Houthis, too, but they’re too far away. As in the USA, there’s so much propaganda here, so rumors, counterclaims and theories flourish.
The 12-day war between Iran, Israel and the USA was just for show, he said. Nothing really happened. They’re all working together. There’s a million Jews in Tehran! Nasrallah of Hezbollah is likely there also. Far from dead, he just shaved his beard and relocated. Shiite Iran doesn’t even allow a Sunni mosque in Tehran!
Like nearly all merchants here, he was very scrupulous with my change. Walking out of stores, I’ve been called back to receive a few more coins.
Many people here share that driver’s frustration and anger. Daily they get news of starving children being slaughtered in Gaza. Just yesterday, ten were murdered by Jews as they lined up for water.
As for that Palestinian who’s educated in Oklahoma and Massachusetts, he even wants the Jordanian economy to collapse, “I don’t want the tourists to come back! Anything to make this king suffer. He’s the worst.”
“That would hurt normal people, too.”
“They should also suffer, even Palestinians! No one is doing anything about children being killed.”
Sixty years old, he lives alone and has never been married. He never got close to any Oklahoma girl he thought so beautiful. With his poor English, he made few friends. Some classmates called him camel jack. Since he didn’t know the term raghead, he wouldn’t have recognized it anyway. He thinks Reagan had his idol, John Lennon, killed. He also loves Elvis Presley.
Incredibly, he still wants a wife.
“It’s too late, man.”
“It’s never too late. You can marry at a hundred years old, if you’re a man.”
Just three days ago, a 20-year-old American visiting relatives in the West Bank was beaten to death by Jewish “settlers.” As with Rachel Corrie and those 34 USS Liberty sailors killed by Jews, Washington won’t even protest. One hundred and seventy one sailors were wounded. Jewish Zelensky could torture and murder American Gonzalo Lira without worries. For destroying Ukraine while enriching himself, this jester is declared a hero.
I finish this piece inside my room. Children and faint music can be heard through the open window. A dog has just barked. I should have bought more of that salty yogurt drink called ayran. This addiction won’t last. In three days, I’ll fly away. There’s a bird chirping. Since his frantic solo isn’t moving away, he must be caged. Before sleep, I will listen to some of the worst news imaginable. That’s our new normal.
[Amman, 7/14/25]
[Amman, 7/14/25]
[Amman, 7/14/25]
https://linhdinh.substack.com/p/stars-and-stripes-behind-concrete