Travels

As we prepared to board the plane I confirmed our seat numbers.  Jesse would be sitting in row 31.  I would be sitting in row 45 and JAC would be sitting in row 38.  I walked JAC onto the plane, buckled him into his seat, gave him a his toy bag and hoped the young man sitting next to him would take him to the potty.  I sauntered to my seat on the other end of the plane grateful that I would not have to sit next to a wiggly preschooler for the 14 hour flight.

When faced with prospect of sitting next to a preschooler passengers practically jumped at the opportunity to trade seats with me.  So, I sat next to JAC despite the  airline booking error. JAC and I were a team for the long journey to Kathmandu.  I made a dark tent with our airline blankets, draping them over our seats.  I used the airline issued eye mask to attached the too big head phones to JAC's ears and we watched endless hours of movies.  We slept piled on top of each other and used every bathroom break to walk laps around the plane.

After a five  hour flight, a ten hour layover followed by a fourteen hour flight we existed in some version of delirium.  We were jetlagged, dirty and hungry as we exited the airport.  JAC dragged his car shaped carry-behind him like a neglected puppy as we searched for luggage.  We had been moving constantly for two day but when I stepped outside I stopped.  I was overcome by the quiet.  I have grown so used to the never-ending car horns blaring in Kathmandu that they seem like a soundtrack playing constantly in background.  Their absence seemed almost palpable. The air was clean, the roads were organized and the trip suddenly seemed worth it.  I realized all over again how much I love the U.S.A.