Seat Mates

I flew home from Denver today and it was another one of those unique adventures I can only get at airports. No long lay overs, so all my visiting was done on the plane as we flew to O'Hare Airport in Chicago.

My seat mates were two guys. One who turned out to be on his way to wine and dine prospective football players for Colorado State University and the other a young man on his way to Jordan where he will study Arabic.

I was sitting in the middle of three seats hoping the person who was supposed to be by the window didn't show up, because that would mean a lot more room for the two of us already there. It seemed like a hopeful proposition until just before they closed the doors, a dark skinned young man with a very stylized beard came rushing down the aisle and announced that he was in seat A. He sat down and pulled out a small book whose type was in symbols I did not recognize, nor understand. Then he began mumbling something as he faced the window.

I was fairly certain he was praying and thought perhaps he was afraid of flying, but I have to admit the thought did cross my mind that I hoped he was not a radical who had found some way to smuggle on anything that would make this trip a fiasco. I should really be ashamed for even having those thoughts, but with all the hullabaloo in the news today, it happened anyway.

A few moments after we were in the air he turned and asked if I was from Denver and we began a fascinating conversation. He was born and reared in Denver by an American Mom who grew up in Iowa and a Muslim Dad who grew up in Northern Africa. His mother is a social worker in Denver now and his father owns a landscaping business in Tripoli. He is the oldest of four children, all of whom have their Master's degrees except for the youngest who just began working on his.

This young man was an accountant for Sprint until this summer when he applied to the university in Jordan and was accepted to study Arabic there. He hopes to get settled and bring his wife over in about six months where they will immerse themselves in the language, hoping to become truly fluent. Then when he graduates, they want to come back to the states where he will work with young people at the mosques and in the city as a sort of social worker, liason with a religious background. He was fascinating to talk to and very excited about what he was doing, which is sort of the grand version of what so many of us talk about, but never do.

He simply gave up everything he thought was so important when it began to feel superfluous and simplified his life to follow his dream. We chatted off and on throughout the trip, then when the plane was landing he explained to me that he had to pray five times a day. In the early morning, around noon, in the afternoon, in the evening, and at night. If he is traveling he can combine two of them, but he was going to pray while we were waiting to finish landing and disembark.

I didn't want to be rude, or intrusive, but I would have liked to know more about what his actions meant as he leaned forward touching his head to the tray and lifting his hands in sort of supplication. But we were there by then and the other seat mate introduced himself and they began talking about football, because it seems my young Arabic Student was also a referee at the college football games and they knew several people in common.

So now I am home and tomorrow I drive down to pick up Chauncey and bring him home.