what if I was a bombadier??

Caitlin has been doing a lot of the heavy lifting with keeping the blog up to date while I screw around, trying to catch up on the latest red sox news. I do have to share a recent story though. Let me set the scene...

I've been traveling with a checkered scarf that is blue and black in the style that you always see in Palistine. It's an incredibly popular style here and is frequently seen as a political statement of support for the people of Palistine. I recieved it as a hand-me-down from some friends a few months ago and it has proved to be an amazing travel item to help with the changing climates down here. So, I've got this scarf...

I'm currently reading Three Cups of Tea (which I highly recommend) and interspersed throughout the story are arabic words translated to and written in their english form. These phrases pepper the book and also look very different phonetically than you're used to hearing them spoken in movies and the like.

So, we've boarded the plane and I'm sitting in the middle of a three seat row waiting for take off. Getting bored, I reach into my bag to get my book and settle in for some good reading. I see both men on either side of me look over sharply as I move aside the bright red fuel canister in my bag to get my book. It's of course empty and without a top but still looks pretty flagrant with it's skull and crossbones and flamable warnings in three languages all blaring out in black lettering from the fire-engine-red canister body.

At this point, I kind of chuckle at myself and wonder what it must look like to see a scarved and bearded traveler with a fuel canister sitting next to you on a plane. After a second though, that thought had gone and I was fully engrossed in the story. As I arrived at one of the arabic phrases in the book that I referred to previously, I started to mutter it under my breath. I was trying really hard to get the pronunciation right so I could continue on. In this case, the phrase was Allahu Akbar(god is great).

So now, I'm sitting with my book in my lap, scarf around my neck, deadly looking fuel canister that had been prodded and literally sniffed at by airport security....and now I'm muttering under my breath with my head down...Allahu Akbar, Allahu Akbar, Allahu Akbar.

It's only at this point that I actually put it all together and looked up to see my fellow seatmates staring at me...not even trying to hide their nervousness. I laughed outloud, pointed to my book, and said something about "difficult words" while my face turned the color of my deadly looking fuel canister. Needless to say I put the book away, stowed my bag, and did some writing for the duration of the flight.

An aside. When we were getting ready to go to the airport an AVIS car rental guy told us that we´d be fine flying with the white gas and that we shouldn´t worry about getting rid of it first. Now I can't get the image of having that bottle full and reaking of gasoline out of the story! Moral of the story...never listen to the AVIS man and watch your words on an airplane

Cheers