I think about a lot of things while I clean bathrooms. I think about what someone just said to me, how slowly I should eat my Peeps, (the marshmallow kind!), so they last, and randomly about other things. I also am pretty good at multitasking! ;-)
But anyways, today while I cleaned the kids' bathroom, I was randomly thinking about the airport on our way to and from Ethiopia. And along with a few amusing things that we saw, I thought more about two stories that happened along the way.
So, we're on our way to Ethiopia to pick up my new little brother and we're at the Amsterdam airport waiting for Dad who's in the bathroom. Throughout the airport they have signs, recordings, and all these things warning you about do's and don'ts! Do NOT bring 6 in. long knives. Do NOT bring weapons! Do NOT leave your baggage unattended.
So Mom and I are standing against a wall with our bags, waiting for Dad. People are walking by. Short people, tall people, long-haired people, short-haired people, (I feel like Dr. Suess!). You hear all kinds of languages and see all kinds of people. And it's rather interesting to watch. All of the sudden an older man though I wouldn't call him elderly, goes flying forward to the ground. It looks like he tripped. He's about 9 ft. away from Mom and I and he quickly sits up and he's shaking. The people around him quickly stop to check on him, including Mom. I stay behind replaying his falling scene in my head and thinking how fake it looked. But I'm usually wrong when I think someone's faking, so I just stay behind and let Mom and the other people talk to him and help him.
The man looks like he's not enjoying the attention, but his knees and legs are shaking so much that it's obviously going to be impossible to help him get to his feet. He looks like he's having a seizure. After a while, a security guy and a few other people make their way to the crowd and everyone starts to leave and let them take care of him. The man is requesting that someone please get his son at this gate number and so on, but although the guy in the suit talks into a walkie talkie, nothing seems to be happening. They got the man something hot to drink and are still letting him sit there. No sign of a younger man coming. Mom went over there again and tried to get the men to understand he wants his son to help him, but though they seem to understand, they never do anything.
While Mom is on her way over back to me, she asks me with a weird kind of smile, "Did you stay with our stuff?" I nod yes and she joins me to continue waiting for Dad and watch the older man.
After a while, nothing was happening, so I got bored and didn't continue watching the scene. Some time later, though, I noticed that they had put the fallen man in a seat cart thing and were wheeling him towards the gates. I don't know what happened later, but it was a very interesting experience.
The second thing I was remembering was the long wait at the Ethiopian airport with Minte. When we got to the airport, we had to wait FOREVER for the lines to open up for us to check our flights and stuff. That was because we were VERY, VERY early. They had this little area with benches for people to sit and wait, so we went with a few other of our group to wait there. Our family had a baggage cart filled with a few of our suitcases, while the rest were sitting next to us. I was holding Minte and pulling a wheeled suitcase because Mom was feeling very sick and Dad had to figure out paperwork and everything. We went to this area and Mom took Minte to one open spot on a bench to try to sit down and feel better. Dad went to go try to get birr exchanged back to U.S. dollars.
I was left with the bags again and sat down on one not on the cart. In front of me were all the filled benches. But directly in front of me, an older Ethiopian woman was curled up with a light shawl completely covering her. Obviously she was sleeping to pass the time away til her flight. She had a cart next to her filled with plastic wrapped baggage.
A few minutes later, a man approached her, waking her up. She looked sleepy and was trying to wrap the shawl around her as she fumbled for her purse. Opening it, she pulled out a passport and gave it to him. He flipped through it, looked like he couldn't find what he was looking for, and then said something more to her. She looked more in her purse, but found nothing more to give him.
The airport man looked like he was tired and didn't want to deal with whatever this lady's problem was, but he said something more to the woman and left. I saw him later arguing with another man. The older woman looked sad. She was very thin and her hair was very thin and grey. She slowly swung her feet off the bench in front of her and pulled on her shoes and then put her shawl more nicely and securely around herself. She was talking to herself, and it was kind of freaking me out. Dad was far away and Mom was with Minte quite a distance away too. And there were so many suitcases to keep an eye on!!!!
I can't remember what exactly happened next. Maybe the man came back and said more to the woman, or maybe she saw them talking intently a distance away. Either way, she began crying. She was trying not to cry very loudly, but tears were rolling down her face and she kept sobbing. The man sitting on the bench next to her looked like an American. He turned to see her crying. He then turned towards me, caught my eye, shrugged, and went back to his paper. It seemed so mean. I wanted to help her, but I don't know her language, don't know ANYTHING about paperwork, and Dad wasn't nearby. I didn't feel safe enough to go to her. The woman was now putting her arms slightly in the air towards the ceiling, still muttering, but I think she was praying for God's help. She kept looking down, talking, then turning to the ceiling again. It was very cool, because she wasn't dressed Muslim and I think she was a Christian, like me.
Some men came to the woman later and said something. She quickly grabbed her stuff, and quickly started pushing the heavy cart with them towards the desks. I was mad that they would let her, a tiny, frail old woman, push the cart herself, but when they got farther along, one of the men took it himself. I don't know what ended up happening. I never saw her again.
So those are my two airport stories. I think the second one was the most interesting. And I wish now I had done something or that Dad had been there to tell me what to do or whatever.
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