Although I wasn't processing most of what the bubbly University student was saying to me, I nodded my head in acknowledgemnt as though I were. The young *** woman continued to chatter away about her studies and something about her village. She may as well have been speaking an unfamiliar dialect of Arabic.
"I wish this girl would just shut up." I thought.
I felt guilty for my annoyance at this nice woman, but had become extremely frustrated by the difficult task of simultaneously pleading for God's intervention, following the movements of the border soldiers AND feigning cheerful interest in the conversation with the *** woman.
"Abba, WHY is this woman focusing all of her attention on ME?"
I prayed in exasperation,
"Do I have an 'annoy me' sign pasted to my forehead?"
Not waiting to receive His answer (which I knew most likely would have been a rebuke), I decided to give the talkative student a physical cue that our "conversation" was ending. I waited for a pause in her monologue, then quickly excused myself and moved closer to where teammate #1 was standing. By this time, a few soldiers were beginning to open several of the large storage compartments located on the sides of the bus.
"Which one has our luggage in it?" I asked teammate #1.
Teammate #1 shrugged her shoulders. It suddenly dawned on me that we hadn't watched the bus terminal attendants load our luggage. In fact, we had simply placed our belongings onto the sidewalk and then left the terminal to purchase snacks for the long journey. I thought how ironic it was that if I were traveling by bus in my own homeland, I would have suspiciously watched my luggage like a hawk until it was securely loaded and locked into a storage compartment. Yet, while traveling within this foreign country, where thievery such as stealing luggage was unheard of, I had become lax to the point of carelessness when it came to keeping tabs on my belongings.
Suddenly, we noticed the bus driver signaling to teammate #1, teammate #2, and I. He was directing us to come to the opposite side of the bus. My heart began pounding furiously as we walked, single file, in the direction of the bus driver.
"Now I can truly relate to how condemned people feel as they make their final walk toward the electric chair." I reflected within myself.
Guess I hadn't lost my talent for being overly dramatic.
I resumed my personalized meditation of Psalm 91:
"A thousand may fall at my side, ten thousand at my right hand,
but no harm will come near me...
You will command Your angels concerning me
to guard me in all my ways..."
As we reached the opposite side of the bus, I noticed the familiar brown
suitcase filled with candy, toys, perfume, makeup, and other inexpensive items which we had purchased to offer as friendship gifts. Our gift suitcase, along with a piece of my personal luggage was sitting on the ground. A stern looking soldier impatiently waved toward the luggage
indicating that he wanted them opened. I recognized him as the soldier who had the ziploc exchange with me. Although my heart appeared to be thumping rapidly within my stomach, I was somewhat relieved that neither of these bags contained the contraband materials. Teammate #1 began slowly opening the gift suitcase asthough it contained a bomb, while I unzipped my own suitcase. The bus driver then began directing teammate #2 to follow him back to the other side of the bus.
"They must have unloaded the rest of our luggage" I concluded.
Before I could spend much time reflecting on the ramifications of my conclusion, the ziploc soldier made a startled exclamation. He stared incredulously at the contents of my suitcase, which was strewn with
loose tampons and feminine maxipads. I had completely forgotten about the tampon ploy! One interesting "tip" I had received from a career missionary who served in an Islamic country was to place feminine products on top of "questionable" luggage contents. She did not guarantee success, but had observed that the average, ultra-conservative, Muslim male would treat these items as though they were Kryptonite and would vehemently decline any further search.
I knew that all three of us had "Kryptonited" our contraband luggage. And even though this particular suitcase held no contraband, I had still resorted to the ploy, hoping to speed up any possible search when going through the less rigid customs and nonborder check points. Ironically, because we were American, we had received preferential treatment at all previous customs checks and had been allowed to pass through without any luggage search. Thus, the tampon ploy had yet to be properly tested.
The ziploc soldier pointed to my suitcase and began a verbal exchange with another soldier, who proceeded to leave the area. Mr. ziploc was obviously ticked but made no attempt to search the contents of my suitcase. I was elated.
"It's really working, Abba!" I prayed, hardly able to contain my joy.
"You planned this all along! They won't search the other bags either!"
My relief turned to amusement as my attention drew to teammate #1's activities. She was handing pairs of our oversized clown glasses to two of the soldiers, who were putting them on and laughing hysterically. Apparently they had never seen such silly items and were enjoying them immensely. Good old American ingenuity. I joined in the laughter as I gazed upon the bizarre sight of machine gun toting soldiers wearing military fatigues and huge clown glasses.
The levity, at least on my part, was short lived. My attention was redirected as I felt the ziploc soldier move away from where we were standing. My amusement rapidly turned to disbelief and then quickly to horror as I took in the sight before me...
Walking toward me at a brisk pace was a fatigue wearing, machine gun toting soldier...who was female!
Without speaking, the female soldier sweeped the feminine products aside and began methodically searching every item within my suitcase. She checked pockets. She overturned and shook my shoes. She opened the battery compartment of my tape recorder. She opened my journal and shook it. Her actions were rapid-fire but thorough.
I was dumbfounded:
"A FEMALE SOLDIER IN A CONSERVATIVE ISLAMIC COUNTRY?"
The tampon ploy had now become a terribly miscalculated error. Instinctively, I knew that a female soldier would go about the task of searching much more thoroughly than a male counterpart. It's just...a woman thing. For confirmation, I glanced over at the activities of the male soldiers. teammate #1's searchers were more interested in our gifts rather than the task of searching. And although the other soldiers were searching each compartment within their assigned suitcase, they did so
in a more haphazhard manner. The male soldiers appeared to be searching for large items that could be easily spotted. They certainly weren't going out of their way to check inside pockets or to open battery compartments.
My stomach became queasy as I realized the full implications of what was occurring. Rather than stopping the search of our luggage altogether, we had unwittingly assured ourselves a more thorough search...
End of part 3
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