If she had known what was about to happen, getting her bag into that foreign taxi, she would surely run back home. But she did nothing of the kind. In fact, she smiled, with all her shining pearls exposed to heaven as she tipped her head up devouring the sunlight, while he innocently stashed the suitcases at the back of the cab, her family giving a hand. She had delivered her red and white rucksack full of clothes to the right place and now watched as the rest of them struggled. Amdo, with her large silver suitcase made of thermosetting plastic, her sister with her black cloth laptop bag and her mother with her brown faux-leather handbag. They were all as heavy as the other, so she was surprised to see her sister lifting it up with such ease. After all, she used to work in a warehouse.
She went over and took her handbag from her mom, freeing her of the heavy weight. Her mother's face lit up with a smile of gratitude. "You're getting old..." she commented, "Is that a white hair I see?" she teased. Her mother laughed as a reply.
The grey taxi mirrored the tiny grey clouds above her head. The bony vehicle was so dark that she wondered if some odd mistake had taken away its black colour.
She hugged her family before stepping into the soiled vehicle, which was as ashen grey on the inside as on the outside. With a forced smile, she waved them goodbye as they stood in the middle of the street, waving her away too. "Don't stand in the middle of the street!" she called, and they both jumped, awakened from their sad dreams by her screams. They had never been away from her before. They ran back to the security of their house as she crawled further into the outside world. The familiar streets were swept away by unfamiliar houses until they all merged into one by the gaining speed of the ashen drop that whizzed through the motorways.
"How long until we get to the airport?" she asked.
"How do you know it's an airport?" was the smug reply.
"Well, we are surely not going by ferry considering that would take an extra 5 hours..." she replied with a smirk. She had researched as much as she could about travel in the past few days so as not to look too ignorant in front of the experienced traveller.
He snorted. "I see someone's done their research." he gave her an all-knowing glance and added "twenty minutes."
Twenty minutes to the dot, they arrived at the airport. She gave him a proud smile. It was so magnificent. More huge than she had ever imagined. Silver walls were covered by huge TV screens with names of, what she assumed were the cities (where the flights were going) and times of departure written right next to them. All round her was the chatter of little kids, full of excitement, with their parents following suit as they led the way with their tiny heads held high. Some youngsters, not much older than herself, sat in a group on a huge bench, wearily waiting for their flights while they swiped, pinched, clicked, smiled and gasped at their mobile phones. A few elderlies passed by, stopping at every counter to enquire about their flight. At the far distance was a coffee shop. The floor was so clean and smooth that she could ice skate on it. The air was filled with the urgent announcement of the last call of a certain flight with a city's name that she did not recognise.
"What do I see there?" Amdo commented, "This is your nearest airport and you have never been here? You look at it with the eyes of a first-time visiter...."
"Yeah, umm..." she fumbled, "I am an immigrant since seven years so it took quite long for us to settle down and actually," she looked him directly in the eye, "I only got my British passport last year."
"Wow, that's a long time," he replied.
"Exactly!" She exclaimed. "I have been cooped up in this rainy country for too long. But not anymore." The hopeful words were backed by a cheery smile as she grabbed his hand and dragged him along while elbowing her way to the cafeteria.
It was so posh. She could never have imagined a tinier room with a coffee machine in the middle and no doors to have such indignant workers that strolled about as if they owned the airport. With forced politeness, they took her order of chips while she thanked them in a similar style.
"So, what are we doing next?" she asked.
"We just need to get through security," he replied, "and then we catch our flight in less than an hour."
"Smooth," she answered, "I thought it takes hours to get on a flight."
"Well, it does if you don't calculate your time right. Or you might want to give more waiting time if the flight is important or long or unpredictable et cetera."
They were interrupted by the entry of the thin chips that looked like they had been on a diet for too long, with all sorts of packed sauces around them. Underneath was the receipt.
"My, they charge a lot!" she commented as the idea of these workers owning the airport seemed less and less far-fetched.
"Welcome to the life of airports." He said while joining his hands in a mock namaste, which turned into a bow. But no applause came.