I’m sitting at Arrivals with my regulation Starbucks semi- daily black brew. No sugar.  Grande.  I’m waiting.  All nationalities are arriving.  It’s busy.  I’m observing. Looking. Staring.

A couple emerge.  Business or married I can’t tell.  Either way it’s not nice.  Man and woman.  Perhaps Swiss or German from their looks.  Something like that.  He’s 6’1″, dark blue suit, flat shoes, black soft leather brief case.  Right hand.  He’s walking fast, but comfortable.  He’s fit. Head is up.  Looking where he’s going.  He’s been here before.

Behind him, she’s 5’7″, 4″ heels.  Fit too, but not set up.  Blond pony tail, the almost-stiletto heels, tight grey skirt and matching business jacket, small hand bag.  Scurrying.  She’s clutching a wad of files in her left arm.  Brochures or something. Hand bag under the right.  She’s done this before, maybe not here before but somewhere before.  Many times.  She’s 2 meters behind him, head down, trying to keep up. She speeds up to get closer.  He subconsciously does the same to maintain the regulation distance.  “Don’t come close”. It’s cold.  She’s too good for him.  He knows it. She doesn’t.

Out comes a Kuwaiti couple. He’s in jeans, t-shirt and sneakers. Sunglasses.  Trim.  Average height and build.  He has control of the porter with their luggage who’s walking off to the his right side.  Slightly behind.  He’s looking around in front, scouting, keeping an eye on the surroundings, their luggage. Their envelope is safe.  Behind but definitely together with him walks a very upright, much taller figure.  His wife. She’s in full burqa.  Fully covered.  A slit through the niqab.  I can see her eyes looking straight ahead.  Not flinching. Not wavering. Confident.  The burqa flows gracefully to the floor. She’s very proud. You can tell how she holds herself, how she moves.  She glides along as if on air.  I can’t see her feet because the burqa reaches and envelops the floor around her.

They move as a unit, husband and wife.  Even the porter and their luggage is involved.  The man is on guard for her woman.  The woman knows it.

It’s beautiful.

We in the “West” can learn a lot from these examples.

I am enjoying my lessons.

Burqa

Jeremiah Josey