My sister and I drove my Chevrolet Corsica to my old elementary school which was the stage for Iran.
"As-Salāmu `Alaykum," I yelled at somebody and these Arabic boys yelled back, "Alaykum As-Salaam."
I was really embarrassed because they were super cute, hanging out near the old tether court, looking student-like and smiling.
I had on the full robe, light blue. Unloading my car I my laptop and some cork-people from the car to plant somewhere and headed to the old gym.
Walking through the turf of the recess area (where I once played as a child) people were swarming here and there, bike riders perusing through, kids were on the play sets -- lots of activity.
"What if they bomb us here?" I thought absentmindedly as I headed into the scrum.
In the gymnasium there was a huge buffet table lined up; hot foods in dishes placed in white paper bags so when you went around you had to look in the bag to see what it was. The food was exquisite - not Indian food but similar. I imagine it all tasting like figs.
A girl I used to work with for years ago was there flirting with someone in wearing a burka as well.
I got a pancake, something I was sure would be vegetarian and buttered it. Then I found it was still wrapped in cellophane. Cultural blunders follow me even in my dreams. Damn.
Then I woke up.
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