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Without asking any questions at all, the Officer simply acted as if he had found a piece of evidence that undeniably linked me to terrorism.As a side note, the bullet was given to me as a gift by a child who had taken me on a tour of his neighborhood on the outskirts of Kabul.I meant to go back and write more about the article I had read, but I never did. The truth is, almost everyone I met showed nothing but remarkable hospitality, kindness and generosity at all times.

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” The next problem began when the Officer picked up one of my pairs of pants and a shiny, unused bullet fell out of the front pocket.

And while I will admit that the appearance of a bullet is always somewhat suspicious, I honestly felt that the additional screaming that was thrown my way as a result of this discovery was more than uncalled for.

C., I spent a good two hours staring at the customs form that I was required to fill out.

I had completed every section of the form, except for one.

But when he began to unzip the zipper, I had no choice but to take a deep breath and prepare for his reaction.

In that pocket was a box of candy, although this was no ordinary box of M&Ms.

And so he gave me a bullet that he had found and had always kept with him for good luck. I had purchased a deep blue burqa one day in Kabul in order to show my friends and family the reality of what it’s like to wear one of these things.

As the Customs Officer pulled it out of my backpack, he demanded an explanation and even suggested that I had used the burqa in order to move undetected throughout the tribal regions of Pakistan and Afghanistan.

As his suspicion grew, so did my confusion at the manner in which this interrogation was taking place.

Up until this point, I had really hoped that the Officer would not look in the side pocket of my backpack.

(Of course, I wasn’t about to risk it and so I wrote them all down in the end.) Several hours later, on the ground in Washington D.

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