The other day we were out reporting in Gaza, and I stopped into a little grocery store to pick up a drink. In the corner I spied cases of Coca-Cola – a rarity here since most of what you see on the shelves is some kind of no-name cola which doesn't taste very good – and I headed straight toward the refrigerator case.
When I got there, all the cans seems rusted and filthy, as if they'd been sitting there corroding for quite a long time. I backed away and looked for something else.
"What's wrong?" Safwat, my Gaza interpreter, asked. "You don't want Coke?"
"Uh, it's looking a little too rusty for me," I said.
"It's just Coke from the tunnels," he said, laughing.
I looked closer and what I thought was brown rust was instead brown dust, presumably picked up from the long journey through the tunnels.
I decided on a bottle of water instead.