The Dubai cousin announced that it was time to go. I was ready to say goodbye to everyone but they looked at me funny and said they were all coming to the airport to bid us farewell. I took a gander at all the people in the house and did an immediate mental calculation. Twenty-one people. Two Corollas. Hmmm. And then I heard the most ridiculous car horn. It sounded as if we were going to some carnival.
The Dubai cousin, while buying my cookies, had borrowed a wagon/van/bus from his rich cousins to transport the mother load! I walked outside and became giddy with laughter. Two Corollas and the bus. We had enough room after all! One uncle brought his work pick up truck to carry all our luggage. We piled into the bus. It felt like a school trip. The girls laughed at the curtains on the windows. "Now when we hit the military checkpoints, you will need to open the curtains so the soldiers see who is in the bus," the Dubai cousin explained. Everyone quieted down. I forgot about that. The route to the airport would be at 12 midnight. Not the most safest time to travel.
As our journey to the airport began and the pick up truck came in full view in front of our bus, we saw Ruby in the back, sitting on a small ledge, in front of the suitcases. The back of the truck was completely open. Everyone in the bus had a fit! My girls cried out loud, "What is Ruby doing in the truck!?" It was then I realized she was planted there to ensure that none of the luggage fell out. I clenched my fist but kept quiet. Our policeman uncle and Dubai cousin were in the front seat of our bus and told us that there was no more room for her to sit in any of the vehicles and that our aunt did not want to leave her home alone. I looked up and saw Ruby lift her shawl and dab her eyes. Everyone in the bus knew she was crying and all the girls, the cousins from the UK and my three children, began arguing. That is when the bus veered to the right and then the left. Damn his driving. Even at midnight, there was an immense amount of traffic. There was a hush and then no one spoke.
I looked out through the curtains for anything suspicious. I wanted them to drive through each redlights so that we were not stopped at any given moment. I just wanted to drive straight through to the airport without interruption. But there were three checkpoints and each time the soldier looked in on us in the bus. I could hear my heart thumping in my ears. The soldiers would gaze over at me and I felt like they could read my mind. That they knew I was nervous about leaving and feared I would not make it to the airport. They shone their flashlights from one person to another and then let us through. When I saw the airport, my legs stopped shaking. My police uncle asked me at one point why I was so quiet and I hesitated before answering. "I am sad we are leaving," I lied. Could you blame me? I couldn't tell him the truth. I am scared we will be stopped, robbed at gunpoint, left in the streets, brutally beaten beyond recognition... He looked at me through the rearview mirror and I knew my expression gave me away.
We arrived at Departures and two porters were summoned to take out the luggage. Ruby stood next to the pick up truck and one of my daughters grabbed her by the elbow and led her to the platform where we were all standing. She smiled from ear to ear and waited alongside us. The Dubai cousin whistled and the porters took our luggage to the customs desk. We hugged everyone goodbye. Aunts, uncles, children, cousins, Ruby and ... as I looked out through the haze of heat, and past the large lamplights shining in the distance, I said a silent goodbye to Lahore.
The Dubai cousin now spoke in rapid Urdu and another cousin came over. "Hassan will lead you in now. I am going." I stopped and looked at him. "Don't worry. He get you to gate. I know people." He shook my husband's hand, saluted me and put on his sunglasses. And off he went into the heat of the night. Hassan spoke to the customs officer and told him about our police uncle. The officer looked at us, the three children, our 12 pieces of luggage and paused. Again, I heard only my heart thumping. He finally relented and let us pass.
Next was the ticket counter. Luggage was put through. No wait, our carry-ons were too heavy. I cursed out loud (forgetting that the girls were next to me) as I removed several Onyx handicrafts that my husband insisted we buy for his boss. I transported them into my motherinlaws baggage. Teek hay Teek hay, repeated the porters. They helped us apply the ID tags to our purses and carry ons. After hearing all my English swear words, they knew we would tip them well.
Next was the passport counter. The officer was a young gentleman, about 25 years of age. He looked at all our passports and then at us. The girls giggled when he studied their faces. I didn't blame them. The process was so nerve-wracking but somehow humourous at the same time. He gave back everyone's passport EXCEPT mine. He stared at my passport and then at me. He did this twice and then squinted his eyes. I was only two feet away. I shifted my feet and told him the humidity had done a number on my hair -- that's why I looked different from my picture. He raised one eyebrow and said nothing. I flashed a toothy grin and then he shrugged his shoulders and let me through. The whole while I did not realize that my legs were shaking again. These guys made me feel like a criminal - I was innocent and had nothing to fear but I heard stories of these types of individuals concocting stories just because you looked at them the wrong way. I knew full well that he was checking me out but feigned ignorance and decided not to make a scene.
Next stop, security. Women checked women, men groped the men. I watched as I was separated from my purse and led into a room to be checked. The security woman was nice. How was I? Did I enjoy my trip? Get this over with and let me out, my inner voice yelled. I ran out of the room and motioned to the girls to grab my purse. I could see our gate from the security post. The last of the security personnel checked our boarding passes, passports and stickers we received on our ID tags. She took forever to check everyone. I tapped my foot and sucked in my breath. "You are free to go," she bellowed. I never thought I would hear those words soon enough. I practically ran to the gate, threw down my belongings and pressed my nose against the glass pane that allowed me to see our Etihad airplane. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw other passengers eyeballing me, but I didn't care. I was almost free...
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