One of my students, a border guard, checked my passport for my flight out of Dushanbe at 5:20am (no wonder he was always yawning, red-eyed, and then had stopped coming altogether). He didn't see me until I handed it to him, and then he lost his professional face for a brief second. While typing my name into the computer with his two index fingers he said, "Air-een" with a smirk and then I got a, "Goodbye!" While shuttling on the tarmac to the plane, I noticed three huge helicopters and wondered if these were the ones flown by my gift-giving, test-missing student.
I made it home. I was starting to wonder if the little pouches of socks, toothbrushes, eye covers, and lip balm provided on Turkish Airlines flights were more for the sake of precaution (just in case your luggage doesn't show up, here are some things you might need) than luxury, but after waiting just long enough to start composing my conversation with the airline people in my head, my bags did arrive.
This morning I hear pieces of conversations and voices of friends, Ella's gestures as she uses her hands to punctuate what she's saying like she's Italian or something, and Mimi's half wry grin as she remarks on something less than remarkable. All indications that it's not just my luggage that has come home with me.
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