Three strangers strike up a conversation in the airport passenger lounge in
>Bozeman, Montana, awaiting their flights.
>
>One is an American Indian passing through from Lame Deer. Another is a
>Cowboy on his way to Billings for a livestock show and the third passenger
>is a fundamentalist Arab student, newly arrived at Montana State University
>from the Middle East.
>
>Their discussion drifts to their diverse cultures. Soon, the two Westerners
>learn that the Arab is a radical Muslim and the conversation falls into an
>uneasy lull.
>
>The cowboy leans back in his chair, crosses his boots on a magazine table
>and tips his big sweat-stained hat forward over his face. The wind outside
>is blowing tumble weeds around, and the old wind sock is flapping; but
>still no plane comes.
>
>Finally, the American Indian clears his throat and softly he speaks, At one
>time here, my people were many, but sadly, now we are few."
>
>The Muslim student raises an eyebrow and leans forward, "Once my people
>were few," he sneers, "and now we are many. Why do you suppose that is?"
>
>The Montana cowboy shifts his toothpick to one side of his mouth and from
>the darkness beneath his Stetson says in a drawl,
>
>"That's 'cause we ain't played Cowboys and Terrorists yet, but I do believe
>it's a-comin'
2006-09-11
23:37:46
·
5 answers
·
asked by
william john l
3
in
News & Events
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