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How NOT to Travel in the Middle East

How's this for a bad idea?Try smuggling a cigarette lighter shaped as an exact replica of a 9mmBeretta automatic pistol through the checked luggage X-ray at Queen AliaInternational Airport in Amman, Jordan.When that set off all kinds of buzzers, the Jordanian secret police lookingthrough my dirty underwear also found the uniform of a Field Marshall in theformer Iraqi Army which I'd had tailor-made for myself in anticipation of acostume New Year's Eve party at the Sursock Palace in Beirut.They confiscated these and all my other Saddam Hussein memorabilia, so nowI'm on the the kind list, somewhere in the bowels of the Mahabarrat, thatcould make future air travel difficult, AND I have nothing to wear for NewYear's.I got out of Baghdad on a CNN convoy, which was wonderfully uneventfulexcept for the company. I shared a GMC with a Harvard educated half nativeHawaiian half Blackfoot Indian ex-stunt man named Kai -- credits include"Windtalkers" and "Blue Crush" -- who, after getting knighted by the Popeand becoming a member of the Order of the Holy Sepulcher in gratitude forcharitable work in Latin America, walked and hitchhiked his way fromJerusalem to Baghdad, surviving several attempts on his life by the grace ofGod and his martial arts expertise, in order to perform rosaries with U.S.soldiers in Iraq. The third passenger was Brad, a former British paratrooperwho was working security for CNN.The night before the journey, my CNN friends warned me that Brad, whom theycalled "Freak Boy," had a tendency to become confrontational and erratic atinopportune moments such as at checkpoints manned by heavily armed Iraqipolice. Luckily Freak Boy didn't freak out on the road to Amman, buthe kept asking Sir Kai tightly-wound open-ended religious questions like "Sowhat do you think of the Devil, or the so-called "Devil?" as platforms fortirades about the inevitable spiritual decline of Western civilization, allthe while clutching a fully-loaded machine gun in a duffel bag under hisseat. Sir Kai, whose contact with Iraqis had been as limited astheir need for rosaries, wanted to know about life in Iraq outside the GreenZone. "Have you had much experience with the Enemy?" he asked, which Iunderstood to mean the Resistance, rather than the so-called Devil.Meanwhile, I was still farting up a storm because of a near-death experienceI'd had with and Army ration burrito a full two days previous. It was a long10 hours for everyone.On the plus side, I am safe and sound and much relived to be back home inBeirut.Yours, AndrewThose of you who know my mother, please don't tell her I've left Iraq. Her60th Birthday is in a week, and I'm surprising her by making it to theparty.

Deconstructing Baghdad

For Iraqis, a Bumpy Reentry Into Global Economy