POOCH SAYS

      It all began one day about 10 years ago in some forgotten town in Israel. I had become increasingly weary of traipsing through medieval Norman (or perhaps Knight Templar?)churches, visiting places where miracles were said to have been performed, and fending off aggressive 10-year-old Arab boys wanting to sell me a sprig of rosemary for 'remembrance!' (Rosemary grows everywhere there, by the way.)

      I intentionally lagged behind my tour group so that I could slip away unnoticed and treat myself to a visit to an interesting little shop just across the narrow street from where the rest of the group dutifully soaked up another history lesson. (I'm big on souvenirs but less enthusiastic about architecture.)

      Miracles DO happen! My eye was immediately taken by a beautiful solid brass vase. (Well, I think it's a vase, but that's beside the point.)

      After the shopkeeper and I settled on a price, I took myself to a corner of the shop, turned my back on him, and dug into my hidden money pouch for my Visa card. I think he believed that I must be shoplifting some tiny item, but his frown turned into a smile when I waved plastic!

      A few days later, some of our group boarded a bus for a ride across the desert on our way to Cairo. We didn't mind the roadblocks in Israel and those slight delays paled in comparison once we crossed the border into Egypt. We waited in the noonday sun while other tour buses joined us so that we could be escorted by police cars in front and behind the convoy. (Someone else has written that plaintive song, "Convoy!")

      Four bus loads of foreigners unloaded themselves and staggered into a large metal shed while luggage was inspected. Our only recreation was walking around a sandy parking lot, tut-tutting about the dead chicken impaled on the barbed wire surrounding us, and bemoaning the fact that the 'snack shop' sold only potato chips.

      After 3 hours had passed, I heard my name on the loudspeaker! I'd been singled out of perhaps 200 people! I marched up to a table where I saw my suitcase being stared at by three men in uniform.

      "Unlock, please.' Sure, sure, yes, sir, yes, sir! "What do you have in there?" I fumbled through clean clothes, dirty clothes, and assorted toiletries until I unearthed the three separate parts of my brass vase!

      I put it together so they could see what I was smuggling.

      "We thought you had a bomb." Weak with relief, I repacked my jumbled belongings, relocked my suitcase, and before I could leave the area, the only officer who spoke English said to me, "Say Hello to Michael Jordan!" (If you're reading this, Michael, consider yourself duly greeted!)

      Today, my brass vase snuggles next to a smaller one that I later bought in my home town with a lot less hassle. You might say that I'm into heavy metal!