http://www.arabnews.com/?page=9§ion=0&article=64799&d=3&m=6&y=2005
Friday, 3, June, 2005 (25, Rabi` al-Thani, 1426)
Karl Marx at Old Jeddah Airport!
Lubna Hussain, [EMAIL PROTECTED]
I recently returned from a trip abroad and put myself at
considerable risk by importing a women's magazine. Such an endeavor is not for
the weak hearted as it could result in being lambasted publicly, having the
offending item seized and signing a declaration stating that such a criminal
act would never be repeated. Nonetheless, I decided to chance it as learning
more about the Pitt-Aniston split far outweighed the consequences of detention
at the airport.
I walked through customs with an expression writ all over my
face that announced the presence of an illicit publication in my possession and
was hauled over by an officer.
"Are you bringing anything with you that is not allowed?" he
questioned as the porter heaved my luggage through the X-ray machine.
I shook my head unconvincingly as he flicked through my
passport.
He stared at me with an expression of such disbelief that I
stupidly decided to give myself up. I rummaged through my handbag and produced
the glossy journal. I reluctantly handed Brad and Jennifer over in complete
silence waiting for the sword of Damocles to descend. To my utter astonishment,
rather than chastising or lampooning me and without saying a word he glanced at
the cover and handed it back. What then ensued was a game of passing the parcel.
"Can I take this?" I asked displaying my incredulity as he
returned the contraband issue. He nodded, stuck some stickers on my baggage and
waved me through.
Things have really moved on. Some years ago, prior to the
introduction of satellite TV, I had recorded a videocassette of cartoons for my
daughter in London. The customs official opened my suitcase and retrieved the
tape.
"What is this?" he inquired suspiciously.
"Just some cartoons for my daughter," I answered not feeling
altogether convinced myself.
I was suddenly struck by the prospect that this video may not
be as innocent as it seemed. What if, for example, there were adverts in the
middle depicting unsavory products that I was not aware of? What if I had
unwittingly picked up the wrong tape altogether?
I busily calculated what the potential punishment could be
for importing a collection of Baywatch episodes. One lashing for each exposed
body part?
By now I stood transfixed doubting the contents of the
cassette and looking as guilty as sin.
"Cartoons, ha?" quizzed the officer.
"Cartoons," I confirmed quite unconvinced by the words
emanating from my mouth.
"Go to that room," he ordered pointing to a tiny opening in
one of the partitions. I complied feeling quite nauseous as to what revelations
awaited me.
"What's this?" asked a man sitting behind a big desk.
"Cartoons," I replied dubiously. He strolled over, took the
VHS tape and attempted to insert it into a betamax machine. I watched his
endeavors as he flipped it over and shoved it in unsuccessfully as the opening
was not large enough to accommodate its girth. He then turned it on its side
and managed to insert part of the wrong side, with the bulk of it hanging
loose. After the fourth crack, and with a genuine fear of him destroying the
innocent machine I apprised him of the problem.
Another colleague was called and they finally got the thing
to play.
To my relief, a flurry of cartoons on double speed pervaded
the screen. But then, in the middle of Richard Scarry's Adventures the tape
froze.
"What's that?" thundered the guy. There was a scene with an
animated turtle and his family transporting a hippopotamus to the beach in
their car. I narrated the scene, much to his agitation and he started pointing
excitedly to the corner of the screen.
"Not that! That! That!"
There in the background under some parasols was a family of
cartoon pigs lapping up the sun. My first instinct was to laugh, but I was
deterred from doing this because of the grave expression that had dominated his
face.
"You can't bring in pigs," he declared amazed at my audacity.
"I am not bringing in pigs. These are animated pigs. They are
not real."
"I am sorry, but you can't have this back," he concluded with
finality.
"This is absurd! It is only 'haraam' to eat pork. It is not
forbidden to possess cartoon images of pigs. I am obviously not going to eat
them."
After somewhat of a tussle, I was allowed to keep my cassette
although I vowed to him publicly and to myself privately that I would never
import another video like that again in my life.
This was around the time when Marks and Spencer products were
banned in the Kingdom. We used to have to rip out all the labels in our
undergarments prior to packing. One of my friends was regaled with the amusing
sight of an Irish nurse approaching customs when she suddenly realized that she
had brought in Jaffa oranges. She then proceeded to roll them down her abaya
one by one and kicked them into a corner lest she be caught with an illicit
fruit brand.
This is not a phenomenon exclusive to this place, might I
add. A British woman clutching a copy of Black Beauty was stopped at Cape Town
airport during apartheid and severely reprimanded for attempting to introduce
literature contradicting the policies and procedures of the state. After all
how on earth could there be such a thing as black beauty? Her cries that this
was a book about a horse fell upon deaf ears.
But the piece de resistance of all stories must be that of a
Saudia captain who purchased a book highlighting the achievements through humor
of the Marx Brothers. He was accosted by an overly alert customs officer at the
Old Jeddah Airport who insisted on confiscating the book.
"But why?" he implored. "It's only a book! There are not even
any pictures," he added emphatically.
"You are trying to bring in a dissertation by Marx and you
expect me to let you go free?" he retorted.
"No! No! This is not Karl Marx. This is Groucho Marx and his
brothers Harpo and Chico."
"You mean his brothers don't share his opinion?" the officer
asked in earnest.
"They are comedians! They are not philosophers or
politicians," he reiterated.
The official not quite sure of what to do solicited the help
of one of his superiors who drew the same convoluted conclusion. Someone high
up had to come and release the poor guy who was now being accused of trying to
spread corrupt ideologies among his countrymen.
The captain was only released after his benefactor agreed to
sign an indemnity declaring that Groucho, Harpo and Chico bore no blood
relation to Karl Marx and did not subscribe to his dogma!
And there it was. The actions of one dedicated individual
that prevented the aberration of communism from infiltrating our borders!
* * *
(Lubna Hussain is a Saudi writer. She is based in Riyadh.)
[Non-text portions of this message have been removed]
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