Wandering Around an Albuquerque Airport Terminal - Naomi Shihab Nye

[Larry Robinson]

Wandering Around an Albuquerque Airport Terminal
 
 
After learning my flight was detained 4 hours,
 
I heard the announcement:
 
If anyone in the vicinity of gate 4-A understands any
 
Arabic,
 
Please come to the gate immediately.
 
 
Well -- one pauses these days. Gate 4-A was my own
 
gate. I went there.
 
An older woman in full traditional Palestinian dress,
 
Just like my grandma wore, was crumpled to the floor,
 
wailing loudly.
 
Help, said the flight service person. Talk to her.
 
What is her
 
Problem? we told her the flight was going to be four
 
hours late and she
 
Did this.
 
 
I put my arm around her and spoke to her haltingly.
 
Shu dow-a, shu- biduck habibti, stani stani schway,
 
min fadlick,
 
Sho bit se-wee?
 
 
 
The minute she heard any words she knew -- however
 
poorly used -
 
She stopped crying.
 
 
 
She thought our flight had been cancelled entirely.
 
She needed to be in El Paso for some major medical
 
treatment the
 
Following day. I said no, no, we're fine, you'll get
 
there, just late,
 
 
 
Who is picking you up? Let's call him and tell him.
 
We called her son and I spoke with him in English.
 
I told him I would stay with his mother till we got on
 
the plane and
 
Would ride next to her -- southwest.
 
 
 
She talked to him. Then we called her other sons just
 
for the fun of it.
 
 
 
Then we called my dad and he and she spoke for a while
 
in Arabic and
 
Found out of course they had ten shared friends.
 
 
 
Then I thought just for the heck of it why not call
 
some Palestinian
 
Poets I know and let them chat with her. This all took
 
up about 2 hours.
 
 
 
She was laughing a lot by then. Telling about her
 
life. Answering
 
Questions.
 
 
 
She had pulled a sack of homemade mamool cookies --
 
little powdered
 
Sugar crumbly mounds stuffed with dates and nuts --
 
out of her bag --
 
And was offering them to all the women at the gate.
 
 
 
To my amazement, not a single woman declined one. It
 
was like a
 
Sacrament. The traveler from Argentina, the traveler
 
from California,
 
The lovely woman from Laredo -- we were all covered
 
with the same
 
Powdered sugar. And smiling. There is no better
 
cookies.
 
 
 
And then the airline broke out the free beverages from
 
huge coolers --
 
Non-alcoholic -- and the two little girls for our
 
flight, one African
 
American, one Mexican American -- ran around serving
 
us all apple juice
 
And lemonade and they were covered with powdered sugar
 
too.
 
 
 
And I noticed my new best friend -- by now we were
 
holding hands --
 
Had a potted plant poking out of her bag, some
 
medicinal thing,
 
 
 
With green furry leaves. Such an old country traveling
 
tradition. Always
 
Carry a plant. Always stay rooted to somewhere.
 
 
 
And I looked around that gate of late and weary ones
 
and thought,
 
This is the world I want to live in. The shared world.
 
 
 
Not a single person in this gate -- once the crying of
 
confusion stopped
 
-- has seemed apprehensive about any other person.
 
 
 
They took the cookies. I wanted to hug all those other
 
women too.
 
This can still happen anywhere.

	- Naomi Shihab Nye