I dreamt that I was in an international airport once again, but I have no idea where I was coming from or where I was going. Although much of the dream has evaporated by the time I woke up, I still remember very clearly some of the last scenes. After a long wait, I was in a line on the tarmac, right under the fuselage of a gigantic plane. There were many of us, and we were moving very slowly. Just above the line there rumbled a conveyor belt that carried luggage into an opening on the side of the plane. Step by step, I got to a steward who checked our boarding passes before we reached the truck with stairs leading to the plane door. He was tall and he looked prim in his dark-blue uniform. He told a young man in front of me that something was wrong with his pass. “You must go back to the checking counter,” he pronounced coldly, “but there is little hope you will be able to get back in line on time!” The steward appeared to know all there was to know about his job, but he was far from pleasant. “Ha,” he grinned mockingly when he saw my boarding pass, “you’d better exchange your seat with a student as soon as you get on board!” I had no idea what he was talking about, but he just waved his hand: “You’ll see soon enough!” I remember trying to figure out how to find a student on board without the steward’s help, but I woke up before I got into the plane.