Waiting at cargo

The "luxury car transport" from the hotel to the airport was a sparsly appointed honda civic. And you know what, it was luxurious. As my knees pressed into the seat in front of me and my head stooped to fit under the roof, I thought, oh, this is quite nice. How quickly our perspective changes.
Now sitting in a dirty lawn chair with two middle aged dudes who don't speak english and are staring at me. Not menacingly, I could definitely take both of them at once, just staring. They were quite gracious, insisting I take one of their chairs in front of an old fan, and the dude who was displaced is now squatting, butt on the back of his ankles. They can sit like this for hours. I suppose its a trained position to not be painful.
I'm at the "old" airport where cargo comes in. I don't know when this airport was replaced but I hope it was a long long time ago. It looks like something out of temple of doom, circa the 30's.
Its 3am but very hot. Very humid, mosquitos are feasting.