CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
“Why do you come to Isrrrael?” The passport control officer at Ben Gurion Airport asked in an East European accent, sounding his rs from the back of his throat.
“Tourism,” Sami hunched his shoulders to speak through the circular hole in the glass separating him from the officer. No need to explain the reason behind his quick visit.
“How long do you plan to stay?”
“Maybe a week.” Sami said, stretching his intended visit. He needed no more than three days; travel to Jerusalem, cross over to Bethlehem, talk to Hanna Vanyos, and return to his girls.
The Israeli officer would see a three day stay as falling short of a tourist’s trip. Especially with his Palestinian roots. It was common knowledge that Americans of Palestinian origins didn’t get admitted into Israel as ea
