At Queen Alia International Airport in Amman, Jordan, December 2009
“Final call for Royal Jordanian flight 267 to Montreal. Passengers are kindly requested to proceed to Gate number three immediately.”
I tucked away my laptop and lunged to the security check point before the gate. On my way I double-checked the flight departure monitor. It flashed: “RJ267 Gate3 Last Call.”
Right before the X-ray machine stood an airport security guard that checked passports and boarding passes. Upon seeing my pass he said: “Montreal not yet open. Please wait in the other lounge.”
“But they just made the announcement,” I said in Arabic. He simply smiled and gave me a blank look, then pointed to the lounge. There were a few people behind me. Most of the Arabic ones, having overheard my conversation with the officer, stepped out of the line and headed back to the outside lounge. A few Canadian ones continued to proceed to the gate. They were really confused when the officer again pointed them to the lounge. This was not the first time that this had happened. I suppose this is a system or a process issue. Just poor communication and coordination between airport personnel.
In any case, I was happy that I had managed to book a window seat. It is a long flight to Montreal and this would help me try to get some sleep. Boarding the plane, I walked towards my seat. The configuration of the seats were 2-4-2—aisle next to a window seat.
I spotted my seat, 31A and yes, it was vacant! What a delight. So many times in the past on Royal Jordanian someone would be in my seat, usually playing dumb and asking me to switch with his seat, which invariably would be a middle seat. So many times I had to fight for what was rightfully mine. Luckily, not this time.
A girl in veil sat on the aisle seat, 31B.
“Excuse me, I am sitting there,” I said to her with a courteous smile, pointing to the vacant window seat next to her.
Her face turned a bit red, she stood up but did not step to the side to let me in. Panic seemed to engulf her and she looked like she was fast cooking something in her head. She then looked at the man and woman sitting one row ahead and said:
“Excuse me. Are you ka-bel (couple)?”
The man and woman, who were non Arab, looked at each other, as if amused at the suggestiveness of the question, gave a brief smile, then said to the girl in veil “No.”
The girl in veil looked at the woman anxiously and said: “Do you mind sitting next to me. It’s a long flight you know.”
It all happened so fast that I only realized what was going on after the other lady had stood up, went to sit in my seat and gave me hers—which was an aisle seat.