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driver a bit when I jumped into his front passenger seat. Still
uncertain about proper cab etiquette, I may have mistakenly assumed the rules
about riding shotgun still applied. Then I decided to chat him up. I figured
the cab driver could give me the dirt on DC, more so than the elegantly dressed
nose bleeder.
    My
cab driver’s name was Habib. He was from Afghanistan. I spent some time
seriously contemplating that fact. I was quite certain that among the 890,000
people living in Montana, there was not a single soul from Afghanistan. Habib
was… interesting. He was deeply tan with warm brown eyes, a kind face,
and an easy smile. He didn’t wear any kind of head scarf, which surprised me.
Habib politely answered an endless stream of questions about DC and Afghanistan.
When we arrived at the Marriott Hotel in Crystal City, he gave me his business
card for Arlington Blue Top Cabs and encouraged me to call him for a ride to my
interview the next day. So I did.
    The
interview was a lot less intimidating than I expected. I met with the same
three people who interviewed me on the phone. After hearing about the previous
fellows’ accomplishments, I gained new insight into the opportunities the
fellowship presented and just how great an honor it would be to be offered the
position. By the time I walked out of the interview, there was a small part of
me that really wanted to be awarded the fellowship. I just wasn’t ready to
admit it yet.
    When
Habib picked me up from the interview, he offered to drive me around the
monuments.
    I
silently questioned whether he was trying to earn more cab fare or if he was just
being thoughtful.
    Habib
drove straight up Pennsylvania Avenue. Then he looped around the Capitol.
    I
pressed my forehead against the window of the cab as I stared at the massive bronze
statue crowning the top of the Capitol dome.
    “That’s
the Statue of Freedom. I have heard she faces east so the sun never sets on her
face,” Habib explained as we waited for some pedestrians to cross the street.
    I
smiled as my eyes met Habib’s. “That seems fitting. I’d like to think the sun
would never set on freedom. Have you ever been inside the Capitol?”
    Habib
shook his head. “No. As many times as I have driven around this building, I
have never seen the inside.”
    “I
bet it’s beautiful inside,” I murmured as I looked longingly at the building. I
instantly regretted my decision not to extend my trip so I could tour some of
the historical sites in DC.
    Habib
drove past the Washington Monument. As impressive as the monument was, I couldn’t
take my eyes off the Tidal Basin, where the Jefferson Memorial peeked through a
curtain of pink and white flowers that kissed the sky and carpeted the ground.
The breathtaking display was reflected all along the water’s edge. “I wasn’t
expecting DC to be so beautiful,” I admitted a bit reluctantly.
    Habib
smiled. “You arrived just in time for the cherry blossoms.” He nodded toward
the Tidal Basin. “Do you know the story behind those trees?”
    I
shook my head as I glanced back out the window. “No.”
    “Those
trees were a gift from Japan. They sent over three thousand cherry trees to the
United States as a token of friendship.”  
    My
eyes widened as I turned to face Habib. “Three thousand trees? Was this gift
sent before or after the bombing of Pearl Harbor?”
    Habib
shrugged. The car rolled to a stop as we approached a red traffic light. “I’m
not sure when they were sent.”
    I
dug my cell phone out of my purse so I could search for the date. “They were
given to the United States back in 1912. That was before the bombing of Pearl
Harbor.”
    Habib
chuckled. “Now that is interesting.”  He drove by the WWII Memorial, the
reflecting pool, and the Lincoln Memorial before he merged back onto the
highway.
    By
the time I arrived at the hotel I was engaged in an internal debate, the likes
of which threatened to destroy all of my preconceived notions