Action-Man, 2 July, Bahrain
My khaki pants are clean and it is the second day of July. Two days ago, I washed them for the first time in over two weeks. Micah Hilliard’s mom did a load of laundry for us in Switzerland. They have been in constant use since then. On my pants was chocolate ice-cream from Venice, spaghetti sauce from Rome, rust, black marks from some train seat, and sticky, crusted spots from the salt of the Dead Sea. The salt of the Aegean Sea was milder and made my pants feel freshly ironed and starched. But there is nothing like a real wash.
In our guest house in Amman, Drew and I not only had our own room and beds, but a bathroom with a shower and washing machine, a kitchen, a dining room, and a long, lighted sitting room. I only saw two other people in the guest house while we were there. Yesterday morning, I hopped out of bed and opened the door and there was a woman. She was cleaning. I was shirtless, which is totally gauche here in the Middle East—a strange shirtless man in the presence of a woman. Also, a young Lebanese guy had a bedroom on the other side of the house. We caught sight of him in his boxer shorts a couple of mornings. One morning, I found him in the sitting room recording his own singing voice.
This morning, he told us that there was a church service at 10:30 at the Baptist Church in second circle. So Drew and I walked to second circle, and after walking in some lost circles, we found the church. We took our seats in the balcony, and behold, there stood the Lebanese house guest behind the pulpit. He was leading worship. He had a clean white shirt on, his hands up, and his face forward with a big smile. He seemed to know all the words to all the songs.
But now our plane is coming into Bahrain. I must finish up, before the captain turns off the “fasten seat-belt” sign. I am looking at the digital map, which shows our position, and I am curious about the scattered kingdoms of the gulf—UAE, Bahrain and Kuwait. What are they doing with all their money? Ahead and to the left is a row of three Muslim men in white gowns and white head coverings. Three men with dark skin and black mustaches and white gowns bring to mind Tintin and the Land of Black Gold. Ahead of them is a Muslim girl in burke and scarf, who, I think, is thirsting for elegance. On our way into the plane, she stopped at an advertisement with a pretty model in it. She looked on longingly and touched the smooth cheek of the model.
Sam
In our guest house in Amman, Drew and I not only had our own room and beds, but a bathroom with a shower and washing machine, a kitchen, a dining room, and a long, lighted sitting room. I only saw two other people in the guest house while we were there. Yesterday morning, I hopped out of bed and opened the door and there was a woman. She was cleaning. I was shirtless, which is totally gauche here in the Middle East—a strange shirtless man in the presence of a woman. Also, a young Lebanese guy had a bedroom on the other side of the house. We caught sight of him in his boxer shorts a couple of mornings. One morning, I found him in the sitting room recording his own singing voice.
This morning, he told us that there was a church service at 10:30 at the Baptist Church in second circle. So Drew and I walked to second circle, and after walking in some lost circles, we found the church. We took our seats in the balcony, and behold, there stood the Lebanese house guest behind the pulpit. He was leading worship. He had a clean white shirt on, his hands up, and his face forward with a big smile. He seemed to know all the words to all the songs.
But now our plane is coming into Bahrain. I must finish up, before the captain turns off the “fasten seat-belt” sign. I am looking at the digital map, which shows our position, and I am curious about the scattered kingdoms of the gulf—UAE, Bahrain and Kuwait. What are they doing with all their money? Ahead and to the left is a row of three Muslim men in white gowns and white head coverings. Three men with dark skin and black mustaches and white gowns bring to mind Tintin and the Land of Black Gold. Ahead of them is a Muslim girl in burke and scarf, who, I think, is thirsting for elegance. On our way into the plane, she stopped at an advertisement with a pretty model in it. She looked on longingly and touched the smooth cheek of the model.
Sam
posted by Unknown at 10:35 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home