Sitting at Costa, the airport coffee shop in Doha, Qatar. Drinking the largest cappuccino I've ever seen. Gorging on a decadent chocolate croissant.
Surrounded by a diversity of people. Dressed in diverse clothing. Speaking diverse languages. Families. Businessmen. Groups. All waiting on their next flight.
Needtobreath coming through a single ear bud in my right ear, as Morgan and I share a pair of headphones.
The news coming through my left ear. There's a special on Afghanistan on the television in the waiting area. I can hear US government officials discussing recent bombings. The future of the Afghan people. Insurgency. Threat. Progress. Independence. And so much more.
This topic seems to have a whole new meaning here. People are watching intently. Hanging onto every word. It is...close to home. Here at the Doha International Airport. Have we Americans forgotten?
I wonder what thoughts are going through their head as they watch.
I wonder what they think of Americans.
Of us. Morgan and I. As we sit here in our sloppy sweatpants. Observing. Writing. Typing on a Mac laptop. Tapping away on an iPhone screen. Taking an instagram photo. Posting it to facebook while giggling.
I wish I could step outside of the airport. Explore the city of Doha. See the people. Soak in the culture. Perhaps visit a Mosque. Watch Muslims pray in another language. Join them on my knees.
On the way back, we will have an overnight in Doha. The airline will put us up in a hotel. I'm excited to soak in as much as possible on that short overnight layover in Doha.
For now, I'll enjoy this restful time sitting at the airport cafe. Writing. Thinking. People watching. Brainstorming my future. Reflecting on my past.
I will enjoy breathing. Pausing. Resting.
Simply being here.
At Doha International Airport.
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