Dispatch from Tripoli, Libya Romanian - Libyan relations were once warm and cozy, but they turned icy after Romania ousted communism in 1989. This was the first official visit of a Romanian delegation in more than 20 years.
When accompanying the Romanian foreign minister, Mihai Razvan Ungureanu, to Tripoli, journalists found out that this was an official visit like no other. First, the schedule was a matter of unpredictable change; second, the protocol was very strict, since the smallest and insignificant gesture could turn out to be decoded as having harmful meanings. The third and the biggest surprises of all turned out to be that Ungureanu was to meet the leader Muammer Gadaffi, and we were to accompany him.
When news arrived that "we were leaving for Gadaffiâs fortress," all journalists rushed to the busses like scared quails.
Our local guards turned even more nervous than they usually were, and the bus drivers embarked in a car race, as if training for a world rally.
So I learned the hard way that "swaia" meant "donât rush," but was in fact a very weak command, since we did not go any slower, and that "yallah" translated with "step on it," and it actually meant that your worst dreams of being part in car stunt were about to come true.
My left hand was clutched into the chair, and my right hand on the camera, when our busses came to a stop: the Gadaffiâs guards donning sour-cherry berets were in front of us and we understood that we were one step closer to seeing the Libyan leader, though not yet there.
The soldiers in military gear nodded their heads approvingly when the word "sahafyn," which meant "the press" was pronounced.
No one searched our busses at the first check-point, but when they came to a halt in front of a building still bearing the marks of machine guns shot during an assassination attempt against Ga
