The most unusual, unplanned, and meaningful meal you ever had.......

[Goodpasture]

Originally Posted by sailordave

.......... There were times his ship would pull into a Pacific Island port. Said at this one port there was a street vender who was selling bar-b-que............. The vender said, "Ah, that monkey paw"..............

that would have been Olongapo City, Philippines. I had that when I was there. It was certainly better than the dog I had in Saigon......while both were "unusual," neither could be classified as either unexpected or meaningful..... I knew what I was getting.

[sailordave]

Originally Posted by Goodpasture

that would have been Olongapo City, Philippines. I had that when I was there. It was certainly better than the dog I had in Saigon......while both were "unusual," neither could be classified as either unexpected or meaningful..... I knew what I was getting.

I think (not positive) at the time he was on board the USS Intrepid. He was a yellow shirt on the flight deck. He left the Navy early because a mechanic working on an aircraft turned on it's engines to test it out without first notifying everyone in the area he was doing so. They weren't at flight ops and so he wasn't wearing eye protection. He's now blind in one eye.

[sailordave]

After returning from my first deployment, Desert Storm, I found out my uncle (dad's brother) was also in the Navy. I asked him what he did in the Navy. He said brig. Oh, you were an MP. He said Nope.

[Goodpasture]

getting drunk and punching a JG can get you 90 days.........even if it's warranted......don't ask me how I know...........


oh yeah, an MP is Army.....what he would have been in the Navy is Shore Patrol............

[Fontucky]

Originally Posted by B4U

OMG! Or the nutria rats. Now I'm gonna be sick.

That's what I used to think.... until I ate some. Same with bull balls. Now I go out of my way to have both items.

[sailordave]

Originally Posted by Goodpasture

getting drunk and punching a JG can get you 90 days.........even if it's warranted......don't ask me how I know...........


oh yeah, an MP is Army.....what he would have been in the Navy is Shore Patrol............

Actually, it's Master At Arms but most people outside the Navy wouldn't recognize the name but they do recognize MP.

[Bmateo]

I was in the Mid East for a business trip, the main reason for the trip was to visit with a major client in Saudi Arabia. I was very nervouse about going into the Kindom of Saudi Arabia (KSA) after hearing stories of Daniel Pearl, and just political tensions in general. I travelled with a co-worker, and we had difficulty getting into the country. Our business class flight connection in Bahrain ended up being a Ford Excursion accross the desert, and they dropped us an hour from our destination. Our driver (in an unmarked car) got lost in the warehouse district and scared the crap out of me, thinking I was living my last night on earth. Turned out he was just lost, and got us to our destination, which was Jubail Industrial City, KSA.


My client turned out to be a really nice guy. I ate lunch with him and his life-long friend, and our meeting lasted all day long, over 8 hours, wearing a suit and tie in 107f weather. It was a long day, and I was ready to rest at night, but when they dropped me back at the hotel, they said to be ready to be picked up in an hour, and to dress comfy. Jeans were acceptable (quite the relief as everythign to this point had been very formal)

They picked us up, we in our jeans and T-shirt, they in their traditional cloths. We drove down the highway, and then all of the sudden, his buddy turned the car between two sand-dunes and into the desert. I must have had a look of horror on my face because one of them said "In Saudi Arabia, we have no insurance", and the other chimed in without pause and said "if you die, you die". There was a very pronounced silence, and then they laughed. (just kidding). They were nice guys, and I knew it, so I laughed along.

We finally arrived at their "campsite", and by this time I was prepared as to what to expect. They had arranged for me to see their pet camels:



We sat together as the sun set on the desert and enjoyed figs from the family trees, pastries from their wives, (who of course were not present) and delicious mint tea. It was really a beautiful night, and we just took our time and enjoyed these treats, as their friends and family came by to meet us, and to share some "hobbly bobbly" with us (hookah pipe, "sheesha")



As time went on, I was beginning to wonder if the pastries and fruits "were" dinner. I was still hungry but really appreciated the efforts they went to in order to make me feel welcome, so I did not dare ask for more.

After a while, their servant motioned that something was ready, so they directed us inside the "hut" (rough campsite, what with the 50" plasma TV and satalite inside, seriously). We all sat on the floore around a plastic tablecloth, I was lucky to sit in front of a pepsi and a bottled water, my buddy sat in front of a non-alcholholic, apple-flavored budweiser. Yikes!

We each had a chop salad and an empty plate in front of us. Then the servant came in with a tray that must have been 36" in diameter, piled high with yellow rice and at least five chickens roasted outside in a special oven. They took time to show me how they ate with their hands (traditional) but made sure to acknowledge I was welcome to eat with a provided plastic fork and knife.

hey, "when in Rome..."

So, each person, using ONLY their right hand, takes a little bit of salad, tosses it with some rice, and some provided hot chili sauce, and then digs into a whole chicken, pulls out some meat, balls it all up, and eats it. Sounds easy enough, but the first thing I learned was that it is very difficult to get rice and salad to "ball up" (although they had no problems with it) and secondly, that it hurts like hell to dig your fingers into a 450f chicken OUCH!


I told the story to be somewhat entertaining, but I have to say it was one of the most special nights of my life. These guys were INCREDIBLE hosts, and although they had a good sense of humor (which I appreciate), they really went out of their way to make sure I was comfy. The stars in the desert, the camels, the home-grown appetizers, and the discussion about politics, religion and culture, all with full mutual respect, made for a night I will never forget.

I wish I could tell the story better in printed words, but it was really a special night.

[jtur88]

I had a similar Saudi experience. My wife and I were driving from Jordan to Iran in our little Renault 6, and Iraq denied me a visa, so we had to take a roundabout route. There was no road into Saudi Arabia, so we were allowed to drive there only in a convoy with high-axle trucks. We traveled after dark so they could navigate by the stars, since there were no landmarks. We arrived at Saudi customs and immigration at about midnight, and the post was manned by a boy about 18, who was the son of the customs officer. He took a liking to these odd foreigners and invited us to his home to freshen up. We were so dusty, we looked like a sack of flour had exploded in the car.

At his home, my wife was ushered into the sanctum where only women can go, where she was regaled with all the details of life for a Saudi women. I was escorted to a room where the men sat around and smoked and talked. After a while, our young host sent the other men out somewhere, and brought my wife and me (just the two of us), that big platter of rice and chickens ("mensef") that Bmateo described. We were invited to stay the night, but declined, in order to do as much night time driving as possible towards Iran. I asked where I could tank up with gas, and he showed me the gas station, and paid for my gas. Which I though seemed generous, until I discovered that gas in SA was about 6-cents a gallon.