Back at the Sri Lanka airport, on a different lengthy stopover, I find my (now regular) sleeping spot, and this time I am tired enough that I fall asleep quickly, without needing a lullaby.
Somewhere in my deep sleep, I hear old men singing Polish drinking songs.
"Jak szybko mijaja chwile, jak szybko mija czas..za rok, za dzien, za chwile, moze nie bedzie nas..."
(How quickly the moments pass, how quickly time goes by...in a year, a day, a moment, we may be here no more..)
Either it's a bad dream, or we've had an unscheduled stopover at the Warsaw airport.
I sit up and shake the sleep off, but the singing continues. A short distance in front of me are a couple of middle-aged Polish men, together with a couple of middle-aged Sri Lankan men, all of them sloshed. Polish guy is passing around a bottle of vodka. They seem to have just met at the airport, but they are professing their undying friendship to each other:
--You come to Poland, I take care of everything!
The wife of one of the Polish guys is standing discreetly behind him, keeping an eye on him, no doubt making sure hubby doesn't give away the family fortune in his little bonding ritual. Every once in a while, she reaches over, puts her fingers through his belt loop and tries to tug him away from his buddies, but to no avail.
Another round of vodka, another round of Polish songs. When the bottle runs dry, Polish guy turns around and scurries back into the Duty Free Shop right next to him, which is running a buy-one-get-one-free special on liquor, and emerges with a couple fresh bottles.
I wouldn't want to be the stewardess who's gonna have to deal with this pack...