Now Reading Travels in Blood and Honey: becoming a beekeeper in Kosovo

I just started reading Elizabeth Gowing's Travels in Blood and Honey: becoming a beekeeper in Kosovo. In the first chapter, she writes about driving into Pristina from the airport so now I'm thinking of my own entry four years ago. It was late afternoon. I'd been travelling for 24 hours, and I'd had a hard time making sense of the questions being asked by the customs officer. I'd needed to use the bathroom and the toilet had a wet floor, a door that didn't lock, and no toilet paper.  All of the luggage going around the carousel seemed to belong to everybody else but me. Finally, my bags came through and I walked outside and into a circle of people standing around smoking and waiting for arriving passengers. The US Office had sent a driver to pick me up and take me to my hotel. He must have been able to tell I was his because he came up to me and asked if I was Ms. Mashinter. As we walked out towards the car, we shared normal small talk, but then I started asking him about license plates: I saw white ones and blue ones and black ones and yellow ones. There were ones on military jeeps and ones on cars and ones on tanks. There were Serbian ones and German ones and Macedonian ones and Albanian ones and Kosovar ones and American ones. And it seemed like there was so much to say about these license plates that I don't remember the ride in. I only remember asking him about each variation of license plate that was on the road.

I don't think I ever saw that driver again.