The Lion of Khum Jung

Chapter 3-2

An hour and a half later, Sarah and Greg were in the van sitting with the Italians. As the van navigated the maze of narrow empty streets, Sarah listened to the men’s lyrical chatter coming from the back seat. Apparently, they had gone out on the town last night and had raised a little hell. As for herself, she had had quite enough of the city’s chaotic lifestyle—thank you very much.

The van turned onto what could barely be called an arterial and headed along at a fair clip out of the city until at last they turned into the main entrance to the Kathmandu International Airport. As they rounded the serpentine drive that skirted the main parking lot, Frank turned around in his front seat and faced her and Greg along with the Italian climbers.

“Okay, once we’re parked, Sangye will go ahead and get the paperwork going. The rest of us will go grab some carts so we can get loaded and into the queue outside the front door. It’s going to be a bit crazy out there, but don’t worry. Just follow my lead.”

As he turned back, the entrance into the drop-off lot outside the domestic terminal came into view. Sarah gazed out from her passenger side window at the circus-like atmosphere and speeding motorbikes that were threading their way around and through teams of men pushing over-burdened carts of supplies toward a growing heap of items near the entry pavilion. Beside this pile stood a long queue of travelers waiting to go through a security checkpoint.

Although this scene was not so different from what she’d experienced in Mexico, she couldn’t help but wonder how anyone got anywhere from this place. She shook her head in wonder as the driver steered the van through the chaos and parked alongside several other off-loading vans.

A moment later, Frank was sliding the passenger side door back. As he helped her out, he barked orders to the driver and a porter who came running up to start unloading bags from the rack on top of the van. As the Italians piled out behind her, Frank pointed to a covered walkway near the queue of travelers lined up outside the terminal entrance. “All right guys . . . and lady. Let’s go get our carts.”

That he made no exception for her didn’t bother her one bit. She was used to fending for herself, and besides she expected everyone would be required to carry their own weight. She’d been doing it for the last twenty years, so she hoofed it after the Italians and melted into the confusion of humanity.