Charles de Gaulle Airport in Paris

Charles de Gaulle airport in Paris must be one of the most ineffecienct airports in the world. What a nervewracking experience this was. And thank goodness I had plenty of time to make the connection.

Upon disembarking the plane from the Atlanta-Paris portion of the trip, we (the passengers) walked 1/2 mile to the other side of the airport, went through security, then had to wait for a shuttle to take us somewhere (?). When the shuttle finally arrived, we boarded it like sardines, then rode to some other part of the airport, where we went through security again, then had to walk another addtional 1/2 mile to get to the gate area, where once again we went through another security block. How nice it was to finally get to the gate and relax. I wanted to get something to drink, but realized that I only had US dollars on me, no Euros... I didn't want to change my money for such a small amount, so I just stayed thirsty and waited to get something on the plane.

As passengers started to arrive for the flight to Casablanca, I got my first views of the Moroccan fashion scene. Beautiful tunics with matching pants, nice caftans, pretty headscarves, etc. I really liked the variety of clothes the women wore. Very stylish for an Islamic country. I knew Morocco was very moderate and it's reflected in the clothes the people wear.

About five minutes before we were to board the plane, a black family walks up. The wife was wearing a burka that completely covered her body, including her eyes, which you couldn't see because she had woven netting that shielded them. The husband wore a floor-length white robe and had a matching hat. The three young daughters wore Western clothes. People were discretely eyeing them, especially the Europeans. This was the first time I had ever seen a woman in a burka before and it was a fascinating, yet uncomfortable feeling. Usually women in burkas are found in Afghanistan, Pakistan, and other more conservative, radical Islamic countries. But here they were going to Morocco!

I was very curious, so I sat down close to them while the gate agent called out boarding instructions. I wanted to hear them talk. I wanted to know if they were speaking Arabic or another language. I wondered if they were Moroccan, or from another Islamic country, such as Mali, Niger, or Mauritania. Finally, the man turned to his wife and starting speaking. He was speaking Southern Black American English!!! You could have knocked me over with a feather. Here I was on the other side of the world, where I hadn't even heard any English the whole time I was in the airport, and this exotic 'burka' family is speaking south Atlantan?

Well, now I was very curious, so as we all stood up to form the line to walk to the plane, I carefully positioned myself to be right in front of them. I casually turned around and asked the man, "I noticed you are speaking American English. Where are you from?" He replied, "California, but I was raised in Tennessee". We exchanged a few more pleasantries, then off we went onto the plane. I couldn't believe it. Raised in Tennessee and now living in Africa wearing the most conservative of clothes.

I wonder if they ever go home for Thanksgiving, and if so, what are their family conversations like?