The Liminal World of Airports and a Taxi Driver Named Osama

I flew for what felt like days and days. Cairo to Zurich, Zurich to Amsterdam. Didn't think I'd ever arrive, but arrive I did. Kaz's mom was waiting for us at the airport and she gave us a Christmas gift, which I was very happy to recieve. Then, Kaz and Sandra and I said goodbye, and I was on my own. I stopped by Burger King for dinner, and ended up ordering in Arabic because I was so tired. It didn't matter, the girl at the counter spoke Arabic no problem. Then I headed to get a taxi, and found that the taxi driver was Moroccan, and even though we spoke Dutch, he made me give him directions home in Arabic. He said I had an Egyptian accent. :-P



On the way home, the taxi driver, whose name was Osama, got a text message from the taxi company informing him of bad weather to come over night, and a warning that the taxis might all be recalled. Since I had to be at the airport by 10am the next morning, Osama suggested I get a hotel near the airport for the night. So, he rushed me home, and I packed a suitcase quickly (which is to say, I threw a bunch of stuff in a pile) and was off again.



Osama picked a great hotel for me. I walked in after saying goodbye and was impressed. It wasn't the most breathtaking hotel I've ever seen, but after flying half a world, it was beautiful. Christmas lights everywhere. And my room was big, with fluffy down comforters and a bath tub. I can't describe how delicious it was to take a HOT bath, and, since Kaz's mom's present turned out to be bath gel, I was absolutely in heaven. I nestled into my warm bed while I was still warm from my bath, and was gone.



Woke at 8:30 so I could get the free shuttle to the airport at 9:20. However, I forgot to take into account that Egypt and Europe are in different time zones, so it turned out I had actually gotten up at 7:30. So I got to the airport an hour before I had planned. Which is just fine with me.



And then I flew for days and days again. At the airport in DC there was an old Iranian woman next to me. She spoke no English, just Farsi, and when the flight people asked if she needed a wheel chair, she only spoke to me. In Farsi. I answered in Arabic, hoping that would help, but she didn't speak that either. Didn't matter, she spoke to me anyway, and I helped her as best I could. I think she thought I understood. :-p She got settled in the plane with no problems.



Finally took off for my final destination. The take off was very bumpy thanks to a tiny plane and lots of cloud cover in DC. Nothing out of the ordinary, but scary enough that a woman behind me started hyperventilating. Other passengers were just saying "She's having a panic attack." but doing nothing. I called to the flight attendant, but she couldn't hear us, and she couldn't see what was going on. So, I jumped up and ran back to the woman, and grabbed her hand and put my other hand on her shoulder and said "It's ok, this is normal." And immediately she calmed down. Instantly she was breathing more gently. The flight attendant, of course, freaked out, because she had no idea what was going on, and all she saw was some crazy woman running around on a bumpy airplane. When she came by with the drinks she apologized and thanked me, and even gave me extra cola. :-p



Finally, I was home, and entered into a new set of drama. Nothing major, really, just that my flight number had been changed, and they put the arrival time as 5pm instead of 6pm, so my mom was freaking out. And then we found out that there had been an attempted attack on a plane from Amsterdam, and my mom really freaked, even though I was already home. Though, I had originally chosen to take the flight that got attacked, but decided that it was leaving Amsterdam too early in the morning, and so chose a later flight. Alhamdulillah!

So, I have been home since X-mas day. My haul was a nice strange one: got some really nice luggage, a sweater, fleece pajamas, Monty Python and the Holy Grail, a beautiful necklace, and Henry Repeating rifle. Yes, I got a gun for Christmas. Ah, yes.