In October 1975, I arrived at the Syrian-Turkish border. We took a taxi from Gaziantep, Turkey, to Kilis, a border town. We stepped into Syria, where an army major sat. He smiled and asked me some questions. “Where do you plan to go today?” “Aleppo,” I said. “Good....
Travel in 1976 echoed the lost hippy days. I refused to get a haircut anywhere, not because I detested short hair, but out of a fear of lice. My afro hid my hair’s length. It grew up, not down. I boarded a flight from Jakarta to Singapore. Jakarta’s chaos,...