MARCH 7, 2022 – To escape the heat of North Africa, I’d planned to fly to Athens, then head by ferry to Samos and Turkey, thence by train through Bulgaria and Romania. Eventually, I’d wend north to Poland.
Since the shooting of President Reagan two months before, I’d been largely isolated from news headlines. I was aware, however, that revolt was stirring in Poland; that the Soviets might invade to crush the rebellion, as they did in Czechoslovakia in 1968. I wanted to “invade” Poland myself—before the Russians did. It was now time to study the news again.
But first I had to get myself out of Africa.
I was hardly the only soul seeking to leave. At the Cairo airport I met a hard-working (12-hour days) ticket agent who dreamed of emigrating to New York. “I hear so much about America,” he said. “How rich and free it is! How big are the buildings and houses and cars! America very good, very free! In America I go into business and make money. Then I buy house and car and enjoy my freedom. Yes, I like America very much. I go to America!”
After quoting this “dreamer” in my letter home, I added, “Does my Egyptian friend have ‘delusions of grandeur,’ or are his words a reminder that America is still the richest, freest nation on earth? It depends, I suppose, on the definitions of ‘rich’ and ‘free’; and to which America one is referring.”
If trouble was brewing in Poland, prospects for peace in the Middle East were brightening. As I waited in the gate area for my flight to Athens, I observed a symbolic scene that had been unimaginable in 1973 during the October War between Israel and its enemies, Egypt having been the largest.
In the same letter featuring the Egyptian “dreamer,” I described the incident that held promise for peace: “I stood on the observation deck overlooking the airfield. About 100 feet away was parked an Egypt Air jet destined for Tel Aviv. Among the boarding passengers were several Egyptians. As the last passenger boarded, an El Al plane from Israel taxied up and parked alongside the Egyptian aircraft. The doors opened, and out walked Israeli tourists. In light of recent history, that ‘routine’ occurrence was no small miracle. I’ll never forget it: Despite human conflicts, peace is possible.”
My flight to Athens—aboard an Olympic Airways 737—produced two memorable images.
First was the seating arrangement. Except for the last five or six rows, all the seat backs were leaning forward almost horizontally. I’d never seen such a thing aboard an airliner, and when I asked an attendant about it, she said, “All those seats are broken.” (I didn’t dare inquire about the airworthiness of the plane.)
Second, as our plane climbed over the Nile, I was struck by the deep green ribbon that ran along the edge of endless, timeless, empty sand; a strip of continuous, millennia-old civilization still thriving on earth’s largess abutting its desolation.
(Remember to subscribe to this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.)
© 2022 by Eric Nilsson
