...thus says the Lord, your Creator...and He who formed you...
Do not fear, for I have redeemed you;
I have summoned you by name; you are mine!
When you pass through the waters I will be with you;
and through the rivers, they will not overflow you;
When you walk through the fire you will not be scorched, nor will the flame consume you.  

  For I am the Lord, your God
       The Holy One of Israel, your Savior...  

- Isaiah 43:1-3

 

Completing her search, the female soldier stood up and matter-of-factly gestured for me to place my personal belongings, now strewn over the ground, back into my suitcase. As I proceeded to do this, I noted that the woman remained next to me as though standing guard. I felt uneasy about this unwanted attention and began to study the female soldier's face. Her expression was neither threatening nor friendly, making her emotional state difficult to read.

"Maybe I should try to befriend this woman so
she won't search us well." I calculated.

A second assessment of the situation made me reevaluate my plan. This woman appeared to be nothing but business. And I sincerely doubted that a Muslim woman who had chosen a career as a soldier was in the habit of "shooting the breeze" with the girls. Before I could ponder this further, the female soldier began to display a bit of impatience.

"Ya'allah" she instructed, "let's go"

"So much for chit chat" I thought to myself.

After I fastened my suitcase and rose to my feet, the female soldier motioned for me to follow her. The woman appeared to be assigning herself to me. Apparently, the ziploc and tampon incidents had targeted me as a "special" case. 

The female soldier led me back to the side of the bus where the passengers had embarked. I immediately noticed teammate #2, of whom I had temporarily lost track. I couldn't discern what her emotional status was, but I hoped she was doing better than me. I had grown weary from the emotional rollercoaster of experiencing anxiety followed by relief, only to return to feeling anxious once again. I was more than resigned to have the entire situation end - regardless of its outcome.

My emotional state at that moment was such: that the idea of actually getting detained by the soldiers and then imprisoned had become LESS stressful than the uncertainty of waiting to see whether we'd get detained and imprisoned. If something was going to happen to us, then by God's will, let it happen!   

Teammate #2 was bent over what I recognized as her "safe" suitcase, closing it up. Opened, sitting beside teammate #2, was teammate #1's "safe" suitcase. Teammate #2 noticed me and shot me a halfhearted smile.

"How's everything going?" teammate #2 asked, feigning cheerfulness.

 I returned  teammate #2's smile and shrugged my shoulders, uncertain how to answer her question.

"Where's teammate #1?" teammate #2 questioned. "I opened her suitcase but they won't search it until she's standing next to it."

As if on cue, teammate #1 approached from the opposite side of the bus. The two soldiers had kept her preoccupied by their drawn out "search" of our gift suitcase. teammate #1 also appeared emotionally weary as she walked over and stood over her suitcase. Immediately, the female soldier, who until that moment had silently stood guard next to me, bent down and began methodically searching teammate #1's belongings. The woman's searching technique was definitely not solely reserved for my belongings.

I watched as the female soldier repeated her ultra thorough style of search with rapid precision. I couldn't tell by studying their faces whether or not it had yet "clicked" with teammates #1 and #2 that this female soldier rendered our tampon ploy essentially useless.

I felt a light tapping on my shoulder:

"You are finished?" 
It was my new best friend, the *** University student.

This time, I was in a more conversational mood:

"I have one more suitcase to go." I responded. "What about you?"

The young woman grinned, then answered in a singsong tone:

"I wait still. My bag, it does not come."

I marveled at how much this woman's lighthearted demeanor contrasted with my own inner turmoil. For her, this border inspection was a routine inconvenience, a necessary evil she endured each time she returned home from school. It was apparent from her exuberance that she wasn't expecting to be carted off to prison at any given moment.

Legitimately curious, I decided to get her take on the situation.

"What do you think they're actually searching for?"

The young woman waved her hand in an unconcerned manner.

"Oh, they look most for illegal electronic device like cell phone
that is purchased in the (country edited). Travelers are not permitted to bring such items into (country edited)."

This certainly explained the way the male soldiers' were searching. I remembered how the ziploc soldier was unconcerned with the type of papers and books we held in our carryon bags. While searching, he had absently pushed aside our Bibles without even noting what they were. This was in direct contrast with the female soldier, who went into great detail in her search, checking pockets and opening up battery compartments. She had examined both my coded prayer journal and my postcard pouch, which obviously could not hold any electronic device.

What was up with that woman?  

Even accounting for a woman's natural tendency towards attention to detail, the female soldier's method of searching seemed "over the top". Could the female soldier be aware of past missionaries who have tried the feminine product ploy and been busted? That would explain her methodical search of both my and teammate # 1's belongings. The ploy may have alerted her to the possibility of smuggled contraband.

"What happens if they find something that's not permitted?" I questioned.

"Oh, maybe they take it...and keep for theirselves" the student said with a sly smile.

"So, I guess that's why they take such time to look for electronic devices." I reasoned.

The *** woman acknowledged my assessment with a nod and a wider grin.  My mind tried to make sense of this new information. If one of the male soldiers searched our contraband suitcases with the goal of scoring free electronic devices, he may very well glide over the illegal booklets hidden within, without visually attending to what they were. However, if the female soldier continued to search our belongings in her overly thorough manner, I had no doubt that she would both find and examine the contraband booklets.

I shuddered as I recalled how the woman's eyes had oddly lingered over the words written in my journal. I could tell by the blank look in her eyes that she was unable to read English. She wouldn't find our contraband materials so difficult to comprehend, though. The Arabic words written on the cover of each booklet would make it quite simple for this thorough searcher to determine the type of materials they were.

"Have you seen the rest of our stuff?"'  It was teammate #2, looking nervous.

At some point during my deep introspection, both teammate #1 and #2 had rejoined me. The *** student had diverted her attention onto teammate #2, who also seemed frustrated at the mental intrusion of having to concentrate on friendly banter during a time of emotional crisis. I also noted, with great relief, that the female soldier was no longer standing guard over us and was no where to be seen. 

"Where's that woman soldier?" I questioned.

"She left somewhere. Have you seen the rest of our luggage?"  teammate #2 repeated.

"She's gone? On the other side of the bus?"
The rising pitch in my voice matched my rising pulse.

"No. She walked over to that building." teammate #2 responded in an annoyed tone.

Ignoring teammate #2's tone, I tried to process this new development. Was the female soldier gone for good? Had the fact that so far nothing illegal was found in our luggage made her lose suspicion? Or maybe she had mistakenly assumed that all of our luggage had been checked. Was it possible that Abba Father had arranged for her to be unexpectedly called away...permanently? What a divine break that would be for us! We just might be able to get pass an inspection if "Mrs. Columbo" were out of the picture. In fact, we wouldn't be searched at all because of the feminine products lying in our remaining suitcases.

"Abba," I questioned tentatively "Is this how you're going to protect us?"  "I'm willing to accept whatever happens from now on, just PLEASE don't let my hopes get up over this, only to have them dashed once again." I pleaded.

Using my previous tactic of physical distancing to break away from the conversational hold of the *** student, teammate #1 approached me and grimly stated:

"Our other suitcases must be in one of those last two compartments."

It was at that moment that it occurred to me how odd it was that despite being placed alongside each other, our luggage had been loaded in three separate compartments, with the contraband holding suitcases curiously kept together, as though the loader was aware of the special connection between them.

Was this simple coincidence or divine ingenuity?

Emotionally rejuvenated, I again meditated on my personal adaptation of Psalm 91:

"Because You love me, You will rescue me;
You will protect me, for I acknowledge Your name.
I will call upon You and You will answer me;
You will be with me in trouble,
You will deliver me and honor me..."

"Oh good, that is my bag!" the young *** woman exclaimed.

 One of the final compartments was opened and several bags were already placed onto the ground. Anxiously, I approached the opened compartment and peered inside. None of its contents were familiar. Our contraband suitcases were not stored within. My eyes furtively darted to the remaining unopened storage compartment.

"Come on and open it" I whispered under my breath "Let's get this over with." 

 I then felt the movement of another person's body approach and stand closely behind my own. Craving emotional support, I turned to lock eyes with whichever teammate had just approached. But the eyes which returned my stare did not belong to either teammate. 

My stomach leapt and my pulse began to race as I stared incredulously at the female soldier who stood quietly beside me. As before, her face showed no discernible emotion which contrasted greatly with the shock and fear that my expression must have betrayed. Suddenly, I DIDN'T want to hurry and get things over with. Suddenly, I wanted to turn back the clock and redo a lot of things. Yes, hindsight is always 20/20, but at that moment there was no time even for regrets.

Unable to move, to breathe, to pray, or to even form a coherent thought, I watched, in what felt like suspended time, as a soldier brushed past me and began to open the final storage compartment... 

END OF PART 4

Putty4HIM