If you want to ensure your safety from the side effects of the Y2K bug, then let's do it right. I risked my life to smuggle myself from Morocco to the Western Sahara into a war zone. Not a computer in any direction for about 1000 miles (save for my watch, camera and camcorder). Disguised as a Saharan, I easily made it out to the dunes and spent much of New Years Eve in a tent with nomadic Saharans. Come midnight (Morocco time), I was on a bus to Rabat. It was a beautiful moment. Nearly all of the other passengers did not appreciate the fact that we were entering a new millenium. We're talking about nomadic desert dwellers with camels. I'm not sure they're on the same calendar, or if they had ever seen a calendar. However, there was a girl on the bus, who was checking her watch as intently as I was, excited about the memorialization of the passing of a thousand years. She was about 25 years old, dressed in traditional Saharan fashion (see picture above). There was no Dick Clark or Times Square. At the same moment, when our watches reached T minus zero, we both looked up and smiled at each other. I know I didn't explain it well. There were no words exchanged. I doubt she spoke English, and I didn't speak Arabic. You had to be there. We both understood eachother completely.
