My Apples Cause National Security Alerts

We left Karachi at the end of August, just a few days before my third year of law school was scheduled to start.  We had three days to fly from Karachi to Dallas, then get in a car and drive 12 hours back to Atlanta.  We were young, we could rough it, we thought.  What we didn't expect was that I would get massively, disgustingly sick on the way home.  Yep, I spent seven weeks in South Asia without so much as a gurgle, but when I got to the airport in Karachi, I started to get the hint that I might not be having a nice flight home.  The worst thing about it was that we got perks all the way home that I wasn't able to enjoy.  We got upgraded to first class for the flight from Karachi to Muscat, but I was feeling so sick, I couldn't even take a bite of my gourmet first-class meal.  Then, when we got to Muscat, we had a nine hour layover, so Gulf Airways put us up in a hotel.  We were standing in line to get our room in the hotel lobby, there were a lot of people in front of us since it appeared our whole flight was transiting.  As we waited, I was feeling worse and worse.  Unexpectedly, a hotel worker whisked us out of the line, and took us up to the penthouse suite of the hotel.  (I have suspicions that we were not "randomly" selected for the royal treatment, that maybe it is some special "blue passport" treatment that we got because of me, but who knows...)  Any way, the suite was gorgeous, with a giant balcony overlooking downtown Muscat, with (according to M) wonderful views.  I don't know about the view, because I spent the entire nine hours either lying on the floor of the (very nice) bathroom, or lying in the bed.  I have never been that viscerally sick in my life (I will spare you the disgusting details).  I was still really sick when we left to get on our next flight (although at least I wasn't puking anymore).  Before we left the hotel in Muscat, I slipped a few apples in M's carry-on bag, since they were the only thing I thought I might be able to eat. 

A view of what I missed in Muscat.  Maybe one day we will get to go back.

Photo Credit

We transitted through Germany, and finally got to Dallas.  As we were going through customs, M, of course, had to be specially screened, or whatever they call it when you have to go into a little room to the side and get questioned extra because you come from the "wrong" country.  Anyway, I waited for him the waiting room while he was taken back to a private room.  I always get kind of anxious waiting for him to come out (key reason why I refuse to watch the movie "Extraordinary Rendition").  Finally he came out, looking quite a bit perturbed (with me--anyone who has been married for a while can tell when their husband is not too happy without a word having to be said).  Turns out that the immigration officer had asked him whether he was carrying any food on him, and he said no, not knowing that I had stashed some apples in his bag.  Then the officer searched his bag, found the apples, and berated him for "lying."  Then he took out our customs form and wrote APPLES on it in big red letters with a permanent marker and told M it would be a $500 fine for illegally bringing fruit into the country.  M was so mad at me!

When we got to the customs inspector, he looked at our form, and said "I see here you have some apples, how much do you have?" obviously holding back a smirk.  "Three." I said.  "Three apples?" he said incredulously.  "Well, it seems like you all have had a long enough day already, so why don't you just give me the apples, and you can go on your way."  I gratefully gave him the apples, and we finally made it out of the airport and met my dad, who was wondering why it was over two hours since our flight had gotten in, and he still hadn't seen us.  A few days later, after recuperating at my parents' house, we made the drive to Atlanta, and it was the only time in my life I ever missed the first day of school.