Stop Being Mean to Yourself: A Story About Finding the True Meaning of Self-Love Read Online Free PDF Page B

from Pasadena had said. I was moving to a new level. This trip was an initiation, a test. It would be a review of the lessons of the past, in all their shapes and forms, and a portent of things to come. While some of the lessons would be obvious, many at this new level would be more subtle. Finding each one would be like solving a mystery.
    The flight to Algiers was a short one, about two hours. As the plane swooped down to land at Houari Boumedienne Airport, I was struck by the pronounced natural beauty of this harbor city. Algiers, or El Djazair, was nestled in the Sahel Hills between the Sahara Desert and the Mediterranean. The sea was bluer than any water I had ever seen. The surf was gentle; waves barely feathered its smooth surface. Old French tenements and European housing dotted the hillside. The fertile landscape looked like a patchwork of green velvet.
    I was nervous when we landed. I didn't know what to expect in a country torn by revolution and terrorism. I disembarked the plane, prepared for the worst. I found the airport strangely quiet and calm—different from peaceful. I immediately recognized the feeling.
    I was in the eye of a vortex.
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    I anticipated that passing through customs would be an ordeal. It surprised me when the officers—young men in their twenties—smiled and welcomed me to their country. They were friendlier than customs officers I had encountered anywhere else in the world.
    I grabbed my backpack and exchanged some currency. As I headed for the front door of the airport, intending to hail a cab, one of the young men intercepted me. He guided me into a side office and left me in the care of a young woman with shoulderlength chestnutbrown hair.
    I gave her the name of the hotel where I intended to stay.
    She called to verify my reservations. Then she told me to wait in her office until the hotel shuttle arrived. Half an hour later, she escorted me outside to the parking lot and the van. Other than milling pockets of armed guards, it looked like a normal airport anywhere in the world.
    As we pulled onto the highway leading to downtown Algiers, I stared out the window with a mixture of curiosity and fear. The roads were almost deserted. I tensed each time we passed a barricade, remembering the travel advisory issued by the U.S. Department of State: "Danger to foreigners is extremely high. Substantial armed protection is recommended. Airline terminals and ports are particular targets of terrorist activity. Avoid regularly scheduled commercial flights. There is a terrorist campaign being waged
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    against foreigners. Daily violence since 1994. Over 100 kidnappings of foreigners. Adequate protection is not possible. Roadblocks are common, as well as false roadblocks set up by terrorists as ambushes. No overland travel recommended. Terrorists threaten to kill all foreigners who will not leave the country."
    I didn't know about the seriousness of the unrest when I first decided to come to Algeria. The travel advisory had concerned Wendy, who works with me in the United States. It had worried me, too. I had considered rearranging my plans. But when I discussed my plans and the potential problems in Algeria with my daughter, Nichole, she felt the same way I did—if I trusted my instincts, I would be fine.
    I hadn't encountered any problems obtaining my visa from the Algerian Embassy in Washington, D.C. They seemed glad to have me visit their country. They had not been nearly as concerned as the U.S. State Department.
    When asked if it was accurate that travel in Algeria was extremely dangerous and that a number of foreigners had been killed, the male voice on the phone at the Algerian Embassy had replied, "Oh, it's not that dangerous. Yeah, people get killed, but people get killed anywhere. It's not that bad."
    When we reached the hotel, uniformed guards stopped and searched the shuttle. We then passed through a barricade manned by armed guards into a cordonedoff area. I
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