What it’s Like to Spank a Teutonic Security Guard … 30 Seconds over Baghdad … A Bright Blue Morning in Dubai

Invisible Women in Burkas

Terror Posters In the Frankfurt Airport

Arriving In Dubai

Joy, the Palestinian Powerhouse

 

The plan for this 3 1/2 week trip to the Middle East was hatched last summer, as my girlfriend Joy and I talked about how and when to get over here.  To know Joy one must really know the Middle East.  Joy is a colorful Arab-American with a larger than life personality, a blazing streak of independence, and a smile that stretches wide from ear to ear.  She looks like a young Elizabeth Taylor in the 1950’s and behaves like Joan of Arc – a woman on a crusade to rid the world of injustice and hypocrisy.  So off we went on a December 2008 visit, when temperatures in the region were cool, and so was the world economy as oil dropped from $140 to $50 a barrel in just the past 3 months.  We both spent the last three weeks in an unbridled sprint to get a bunch of things wrapped-up before finally boarding the plane at LAX on Sunday. 

I write this on a crisp blue morning, hours after we landed, from a small studio apartment in the marina district of Dubai.  Dubai sits just inside the entrance to the Persian Gulf, on the western shore of the Gulf.  We flew some 22 hours to get here, leaving LA on Sunday afternoon and arriving close to midnght on Monday evening.  The trip was eventful and full of drama … flying on the busiest travel day of the year – the Sunday after Thanksgiving - Joy missed her flight from San Jose, was lucky to rebook a new ticket, and arrived in LA just in the nick of time, looking a bit disheveled and out of breath when she met me in the international terminal at LAX.  But nonetheless, she made it, and off we went.

On a four hour stopover in Frankfurt, we visited airport stores and a special Lufthansa lounge with free drinks and lots of delicious food.  Proceeding to our gate for the connection to Dubai, we passed through a security checkpoint, where a stern-looking German female security guard patted-down Joy.  This guard looked more than a little like Frau Farbissina, Dr. Evil’s assistant in the Austin Powers movie.  As she proceeded with the pat-down, the guard placed her hands a little too close to Joy’s private parts.  Joy, who was never very empathetic to border guards in the first place, saw a golden opportunity to teach the guard a lesson, and with a sharp swipe of her right hand, gave the guard a spank, right on her wide Teutonic fanny. 

Indeed, it was one of those special moments in my life, where I thought I was watching a movie.  But no, who could actually make this stuff up?  This was, in fact, really happening in front of me.  Looking astonished and horrified, the guard glared at Joy as several other police officers came to the guard’s aid.  I stood a few feet away, watching this international incident unfolding, with visions dancing in my head of meeting the American ambassador to Germany later that day … and for all the wrong reasons.  Joy was surrounded, and also brazenly unapologetic.  In fact, she was upping the ante by demanding an apology from the guard.  In her mind, it was a matter of principal.  With Joy’s demand, the guard demanded an apology from Joy.  Negotiating positions seemed to be hardening.  Sensing the possibility of this spinning out of control, I strolled over to my beautiful girlfriend and reminded her, with some degree of intensity, that these people have the authority to throw her into a dank German jail cell.  I strongly encouraged her to apologize.  That seemed to upset her even more, and she stood her ground.  Luckily, after huddling and discussing the situation intensely for a few minutes – I assume that it took a few minutes because they probably don’t deal with spankers every day – they let Joy go, and we walked smartly to the gate.  A few minutes later, as we settled into our seats on the plane, a flight attendant told Joy that the police wanted to have a few words with her in the jetway.  I rolled my eyes.  Luckily, again, it turned out to be only a few words, and we were on our way.  With this as a dramatic starting point, what would come next?  It appears that the best was yet to come.

 

As the 747 flew south we tracked the flight’s progress on the TV monitor in our cabin, dozing off into a long nap.  I awoke later in the flight, and looked out the window into the darkness of night to see the orange glow of a large city, off to our right.  Looking at the map on the monitor, I saw that the city was Bagdhad, Iraq!  It hadn’t even occured to me that we would fly over Iraq, former member of George W. Bush’s axis of evil.  I thought about all the images I had seen on TV about that city – from the first gulf war, to the invasion in 2003, to the elections and all the events that had happened there since – and was amazed that this orange glowing city below me, which could have just as well been Sacramento, was the center of all that stuff.   Until that moment in my life, I realized, Baghdad was a theoretical city – a place that existed on the TV screen and in the newspaper, but not a place that I could actually conceive as real.  But there it was, outside the window, glowing orange in the night.  I wondered what it was like for US fighter pilots to scream over the city in the same airspace as we were in.  Then I thought about the cost of the war … http://zfacts.com/p/447.html … paid for entirely using borrowed money, that our children will have to repay.  

 

We landed in Dubai a short while later in a beautifully architected and ultra modern airport -truly one of the finest airports that I have ever been in – that I learned will actually soon be the “old” airport.  The new airport is being constructed and when complete will be the largest in the world.  This “brand new and largest in the world” theme seemed to replay itself over and over in Dubai.  As we deplaned the airport was a mix of arabs and westerners, people in traditional robes and modern suits, coming together in this most modern of cities.  One person that especially caught my attention was the immmigration agent who stamped our passport - a muslim woman in her 30’s in a black burka with henna tattoos all over her hands and a fake diamond encrusted watch.  We rented a car and made our way onto the 10 lane Sheikh Zayed bin Sultan Al Nahyan road, after the father of the current ruler of Dubai.  On either side of us, dozens and dozens of 40-60 story glass and steel skyscrapers lined the highway.  The amazing thing was that literally everything surrounding us had been built since I graduated college – the roads, bridges, elevated train, all the buildings, everything.  It had to have been the biggest development project in the history of the world. 

As we drove, I thought about the vast amount of capital that had been drawn here to build all this infrastructure.  Then I wondered, seeing that many of the buildings were vacant, who exactly do they plan to inhabit these buildings?   

We settled into our room for the night, and went to sleep …

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