Free Pan Am Unbuckled: A Very Plane Diary by Ann Shelby Valentine, Ramona Fillman Page B

right across the street from the St. Georges Hotel, on the Adriatic Sea, where I had stayed as a child. I got out of the Blue Bird bus and looked across the road at the St. Georges with the deep blue of the Mediterranean Sea beyond it and it felt so surreal. The old St. Georges was built out of old stone, like a medieval fort, and had the presence of being a palace. The new Phoenician was surreal too—all marble, grand sweeping drive, with tall modern sleekness plunked right down in the middle of Beirut. Both hotels were within a block or two of the US Embassy.
    As we alighted from the Blue Bird, we were met by a man in a turban and a sort-of-costume of baggy pants and shoes with turned up toes—just like Aladdin. In one hand he carried a copper tray holding demitasses cups, and in the other hand a long-stemmed kettle into which he poured long falls of dark, thick Turkish coffee. He offered the cups to us. This was the perfect antidote to the nighttime crew parties. I only needed to drink ONE of those to stay awake for the next 12 hours.
    When we checked into our rooms, we were given our per-diem money in Lebanese Pounds. By now, I was making friends with my roommate, but she didn’t always want to do the things that I wanted to do. So, I ran downstairs by myself and got a taxi to the Beirut Souks (the central marketplace). I knew exactly what I wanted—a leather suitcase and some rose- gold jewelry. Because I was wearing British Nichols tennis shoes and German clothes, I didn’t think anyone would know I was an American.
    I bargained a great price on a beautiful, full-sized, red leather suitcase. I learned from the crew what ‘step-2’ was, when buying anything at the Souks. ‘Step 1’ was my initial bargain, to get the price down—and ‘step 2’ was after that—at the very end— and before I closed the deal—I was to ask for the Pan Am discount. It might be 5-10%, but there always was one— as every vendor wanted Pan Am business. We were repeat business, and they hoped we would recommend them to other Pan Am employees and passengers.
    Also, it was prudent to get the Pan Am MAN number included on the receipt— to keep the transaction really straight for us at US customs. The MAN (manual) number made it clear to customs that it was my purchase— and my purchase only. That helped me get the maximum allowable taxfree amount each quarter. Regular passengers could only bring in $100 per flight, but flight crews were allowed a lot more.
    We didn’t need to worry about how big our suitcases were, as Pan Am crews never carried their own bags. Crew baggage was always carried by porters. At home base, I only had to get my bags from the Carey Bus to my apartment—so the big red suitcase was not going to be difficult for me to travel with. The suitcase cost me almost $20—which was most of the two-day per-diem money for my stay in Beirut—but it was so beautiful, it was worth it.

     
    The second thing I wanted was a piece of rose-gold jewelry. I had a string of pearls— which was the only piece of jewelry I wore with any regularity— and now I wanted a bracelet. In Beirut, Lebanese jewelers designed a large-chain that they made out of beautiful rose-gold— and I had to have one. All the jewelers in the Souks were selling them at similar prices. Eventually I found a guy who seemed nice enough and I started bargaining. I got to half of the original price and asked, as I had been told, “What is the Pan Am discount?” He got furious. He said he had already given me the Pan Am discount. When I asked how he knew I was with Pan Am, he said “Because of your uniform purse!”
    I hadn’t yet figured out that the Pan Am logo was so readily and universally recognized. My crew purse had ‘branded’ me. The Souks shop keeper ended up coming down a tiny bit more and I went away with the beautiful rose gold bracelet. It was made of large, classic, half-inch loops that hung loosely on my wrist. I was as happy as could be