Going from Typhoid to Hepatitis was enough for my agency to pack me up (well, offer to pack me) and send me home to recover. It took me two days to pack a carry on bag, so I was really grateful that they had taken it upon themselves to organize the trip home.

Old Kabul International Airport Terminal

The day started innocently enough. I was at the door an ready to roll at 7:45 a.m. along with a colleague and his family who were traveling to India. We made it through the first two airport security check points without incident, and then ended up in an giant cue outside the terminal building.

The men cued up on the left the women on the right as we have to make our way through different security check points before getting to the check-in counter. We were crowding through a single door and then being sorted out inside the airport. Unfortunately the men had so crowded the entrance that no women were getting through. …and of course there was NO ONE in the women’s security cue.

Leaving Kabul compounds behind!

After waiting about 30 minutes and not moving at all. I couldn’t take it anymore. There was NO WAY I was going to miss my flight on account of a security cue. So, I grabbed my giant suitcase and hauled it through the crowd and out onto the street. I cut around the mob of 300+ people and cut in again at the door where several Afghan National Army officers were milling around.

The reaction I get when I do pushy or shocking things is always interesting! It is first met by indignation – which I got as I hauled my suitcase around the waiting men – who expressed their displeasure by clicking their tongues. (Think murmuring, just a little louder and a bit more perturbed.) Then I get the frustrated reaction of someone turning around and going off in Dari or Pashtu until they look past my height and realize that I’m a woman – and this reaction instantly melts into a “oh, give this one a wide berth” or “how can I help you ma’am”.

Lufthansa Flight Home

Once inside the terminal I had to round back to two different guards to get the women’s line moving… but as I walked toward the check-in counter, women started pouring through the door. The security checkpoint past the Immigration checkpoint took more than and hour to move approximately 40 feet. I made it into the waiting area with about 15 minutes to spare before the flight left.

SFO's version of "Welcome Home"!

What I learned was that the Monday and Friday flights are routinely held in order to accommodate the crush of people trying to move through the security and immigration checkpoints. So while I did make it to the waiting area on time, we still waited until all passengers were present an accounted for… 1.5 hours later.

The trip to Frankfurt was uneventful. The plane was not full so I was able to stretch out and sleep. It was  good thing, as the airport Sheridan, where I’d booked a room that night, hosted a business party that turned into a rockin’ dance party that kept the room thumping until about 2 a.m. …it did sound like fun, though I was not up for joining in.

Trip got a bit worse when I ended up in middle seat in the back row of a fully booked flight from Frankfurt to San Francisco. Not much sleep to be had there, but fortunately my seatmates were friendly and quiet. A quick hop from San Francisco to Oregon and I was home in time to hug my grandma before she went to bed.

Lawn dart home...but a sweet pilot!