The door opened, and one by one, we exited the plane. Each step on the metallic stair was rather steep, but holding onto the painted metal rails, feeling the bumps and the coarse metal underneath the layer of paint as one dragged one’s hand along, feeling one’s step, allow one to observe one’s whereabout. The roof was tall and high, half-cylindrical shaped. The metals that supported it seemed rather rusty and old, giving up its sense of robustness. The giant room was mostly empty, inhabited by only a few long tables and chairs just some distance in front of the bottom of the stairs. Lamps were nigh; but the outside sun shone through the, should one say, hangar, door, was enough to lit the whole room.