My thirty hour flight reminded me of the time Sharon and I went dumpster diving…no matter how bad it got, we were still laughing obliviously. While purchasing tablets and supplies for the school, I never once thought about the difficulties of carrying such a load through four airports, offering up two book spills, three tablet shake downs, four discussions with security, five traffic jams, and a six hour wait for calm winds. I breathed a sigh of relief when a young Russian pilot fresh out of kindergarten, dropped me on the trail with two ponderous backpacks hanging from my body. Thanks to all of you for your support, kind words and best wishes; who knows what would have happened if you hadn't been pulling for me. And a special thanks to the person who gave me a two inch "leatherman tool" that sent the security uniforms into overdrive at PDX, Amsterdam, and Dehli before it was finally confiscated. Boomers with backpacks send up faded flags, and a solo woman traveler–brushed by the colors or time–brings confusion that even a well polished smile can't sort out. Hopefully, the winds will change and the Lukla prayer flags will carry our heavy loads to their final destination. Regardless, at the end of each day, I was still laughing. You can't make this stuff up.
2 comments:
Beautifully written.
Keep on truckin'
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