From Job to Job around the World

by Alfred C. B. Fletcher

We spent the day walking the ties in front of the station and went to Haifa for the night on the train from Damascus late in the afternoon. We had landed in Haifa when we first arrived in Palestine, and our second coming completed a small circuit. The next day we took the train that leaves at sun rise for Damascus. The only thing a Turkish train has in the way of accommodation is plenty of time. It hasn't a single convenience I can think of. I actually saw one train stop to allow two ducks to cross the track. One conductor threatened to beat me up because I made fun of his little engine and cars by running backwards beside his train and winning the race into the station.

The Sea of Galilee is a glassy, stagnant-looking body of water, and when we saw it was as calm as a plate of soup. It was so peaceful that one could hardly realise that it was capable of the storms described in the Bible. I was told that these storms take place on it to-day. Tiberias, the most vermin-ridden settlement in the world, stands on its shores. The River Jordan, which looks like a Southern California "wash" in winter, has its source in the sea. Richardson and I walked down to the banks of this mad-rushing little stream and filled a bottle with a sample of its water. This fluid looks and tastes like that of any water company in America. I have done nothing but give portions of my sample away ever since.

Beyond the Jordan the railroad crosses a vast plain which produces nothing but rocks. I don't think I ever saw so many boulders before. I didn't see a suggestion of vegetation or a sign of life in the entire distance from the Jordan to Damascus. We travelled across this weary expanse of nothing with a Greek priest, who spoke English, and a female missionary of the Church of England who had spent many years of her life converting natives in a village east of the Jordan.

Damascus is the oldest city in the world. It is the city in which Saint Paul became a Christian. It is larger than Pittsburgh, having over half a million inhabitants. It is famous for its picturesque markets and bazaars, which are the focal point for all the products of the interior of Syria.

Richardson and I took in the sights of this city without a guide, as was our custom. The Reverend Mr. Hanamar, of the English Church, told us how to get about most profitably. He is an authority on the Holy Land and Syria and had the task of revising Thomas Cook and Son's Handbook on Palestine and Syria. We walked the length of the "Street Called Straight." If it were not for the fact that every one who sees this street makes the same remark, I would here state that it is not straight. However, it is an interesting thoroughfare. With its wooden roof, its hundreds of picturesque shops and its hordes of humanity it is unique among the streets of the world.

The Great Mosque, which at one time was a Christian Church, is said to contain the head of Saint John the Baptist. I understand that a half dozen churches throughout Europe also claim this distinction. At any rate, it is interesting to note—and strange to think—that the Moslems have allowed the following inscription on the walls of the Great Mosque to remain: "Thy Kingdom, O Christ, is a kingdom of all ages, and Thy dominion lasts throughout all generations."

Our train from Damascus to Beirut travelled at the rate of six miles an hour. A man can nearly beat this walking. But out of justice to this train I should say that in a distance of eighty miles we had to rise three thousand feet to the ridge of the Lebanon Mountains. From the summit of these mountains a beautiful picture was suddenly spread before us. Directly beneath us was Beirut—its houses crowded in among the jungle of trees—and stretching out beyond to the horizon was the expanse of the blue and white-capped Mediterranean. Bobbing up and down on the waves was a small steamer flying the Stars and Stripes. It was the first American flag Richardson and I had seen since we left Manila. We decided to investigate it on our arrival in Beirut.

We were the guests of Professor and Mrs. Brown, who were connected with the Syrian Protestant College, one of the leading institutions of learning in the Near East. Beirut is a great educational centre, having forty schools for boys and twenty-five for girls.

The Syrian lace merchant, whom we met at Afuleh while waiting for our train, entertained us at dinner. After the meal we drank several cups of muddy-looking Turkish coffee with its inch of sediment in the bottom of the cup, and smoked a narghile, or hubble-bubble pipe. From our Syrian friend we learned that the little steamer with the American flag was the Virginia of the Archipelago-American Steamship Company. This concern was incorporated under the laws of the United States and carried the Stars and Stripes, although its capital and management were largely Greek. This arrangement was to serve as a means of protection against Turkey.

Richardson and I concluded that here was our chance for a free ride. We would go to the steamship company's office, announce that we were Americans, act important and demand passage to Constantinople.