Wednesday, October 7, 2009

At the Beirut Airport

One of the most telling and uncanny moments of my trip occurred in the security line at the airport at 3am waiting to depart. I was tired from an emotionally and physically demanding trip and I was just becoming aware of the unusual amount of anxiety and fear and trepidation that I was carrying with me and I was eager to get away from this explosive land, so full of contradictions and uncertainties, checkpoints and divisions.

As I was standing there patiently waiting to pass through the metal detector, I realized that the line was being held up by a7-year old boy who was being frisked and having all his bags scrutinized because the scanner had detected guns and lots of plastic grenades. The mother and child were then thoroughly searched for more toy weapons which was absurd and frustrating and bewildering but by now, somehow not surprising. Meanwhile, a woman’s voice on the loudspeaker was declaring over and over in Arabic, French and English, “Welcome. We are pleased and honored to have your in our midst.”

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