Welcome to Jordan
an excerpt

One man steered from the front and another pushed from behind. The unwieldy cart was stacked three layers high with cardboard shipping boxes. One box was on the handle bars while another teetered above it, threatening to come down. On the inspection table, the officer, with a cigarette dangling from his lips, slashed open one box with a kitchen knife. “Ugh,” he grunted, finding the top layer full of diapers. He quickly shut the box and slapped it, approving all eight boxes at once. They progressed slowly behind the cart through a break between two stone clad walls. “Who is that guy, Baba? That guy has his picture everywhere!” Hamza was pointing up at a portrait.
“Don’t point, Hamza!” Ahmed swatted at the boy’s finger. “That is King Abdallah. Our King.”
“That’s funny, Baba.” Hamza skipped around in a circle and covered his mouth as he giggled. “We don’t have a King.”
“Shhh, boy! You do now.”