How 'bout them apples

My first instance of corruption came after a day at the Dead Sea, spent floating on the sodium-rich water and slathering up with the mineral-rich mud, baking in the desert heat and enjoying the Europeans and water slides at the Dead Sea Spa because attending a public beach as a woman is frowned upon and one feels uncomfortable when stared at in a bathing suit. As we were leaving the spa, we waited for the guard to remove the pole barrier. He came over to our window and leaned inside, demanding something in a foreign tongue. After learning we didn't even speak small Arabic, he gestured toward the apples we were eating. My co-pilot misunderstood and thought he wanted us to throw them out. Knowing this was not a border crossing though I told her that was impossible. We finally understood he wanted one apple or three (for his friends). We had one left and happily handed him our last green apple and drove on.