Back from the motherland. Unlike my flights there, I wasn't lucky this time, neither in terms of seating nor in terms of connections. While I realize how lucky I am to fly across the world to visit family, I cannot help but complain (I'm not Polish for nothing. We're not known for positive thinking). No one in immigration processing, for instance, cares that you have a connecting flight to catch. Everyone you encounter as you run to your gate, however, assures you that it's possible only if you hurry. So you have the bright time-saving idea to keep your shoes off after passing security. You thus discover how inadvisable it is to run barefoot, even if in socks, on moving walkways. While the first feels uncomfortable, the third feels like hot coals. I arrived at the gate with shoes in hand about five minutes too late and got rerouted to another flight. On a positive note, when you're sweaty and miserable, you get to ride to your new gate in a special needs vehicle.
The Lufthansa flight I took from Munich to Charlotte was on a giant airbus where all six bathrooms were downstairs. Freaky. I did have an individual video screen and watched four films (shut up! It was a ten hour flight!).
Water for Elephants: a circus elephant named Rosie who understands Polish. Enough said. [I'm also a sucker for films framed as memories of old men. Except for The Notebook. That sucked.]
Beastly: Beauty and the Beast with a pervy teenage twist. Also, disturbing racial and disability dynamics. I doubt the youth of today learned that beauty's on the inside.
Paul: a surprisingly illustrious cast for a cartoonish alien flick. Refreshingly pro-science and anti-creationism. Funny as shit!
Thor: gods learn life's lessons super fast thus becoming kings of heaven. No matter how bad, however, I enjoy a comic book-based movie. Also, Natalie Portman's range now includes Your Highness, The Black Swan, and Thor.
On an unrelated note, beware of American friends' love of vodka and furry slippers. They're liable to start on both in the middle of a hot summer morning.
As my departure draws near, I brace myself for my three flights (no direct flights to where I'm going). I used to be terrified of flying. Got so bad, I needed meds to endure even a short flight. I mean, you don't even know who's driving!
The fear, fortunately, is no more, but the physical discomfort of being stuck in a metal can in the sky remains. I can’t afford business class, so it’s the ever-shrinking coach for me. As if the tight quarters aren’t bad enough, being thousands of feet up in the air makes me blow up like a balloon. About an hour or two into a flight, I feel the hold of my shoes tightening and pretty soon, my entire body feels like the poor New Zealander's who got himself stuck on a compressed air hose: http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-asia-pacific-13537084. Once I made the mistake of wearing heels on a transatlantic flight. Took them off for a few hours to flex my legs and when I tried to put them back on, my feet wouldn’t budge. An unforgettable experience of a barefoot deplaning.
It’s one thing to go across a few states and completely another to go across several countries and an ocean. Plus, and this is somewhat anachronistic, I don’t think I can ever get used to the short time it takes to be transported into an entirely different reality. Take my trip to Japan as an example. Here I was, just hanging out in Missouri, and twenty hours later I was in Tokyo. The two realities had little in common. Flying doesn’t provide a good transition between different realities either. If anything, it exacerbates the weirdness. Whenever I take these transoceanic flights I feel stuck in some sort of an airplane netherworld. I am neither here nor there. I’m cramped in my seat, the cabin pressure making me woozy.
I really didn’t relish the idea of a thirteen-hour transpacific flight to Tokyo. My lower back hurt in anticipation. My anxiety was not eased when I discovered that the flight was actually over fourteen hours long. I remember that at one point during the flight I was sure that we only had a couple of hours to go. Just positively sure that it was almost over. I asked a flight attendant but she informed me that we were over seven hours away. I cried a little and not on the inside.
Dear Lufthansa,
Please make an upgrading error. I won’t tell, I promise. I'll be on my best behavior. I will definitely not get drunk, crawl on all fours, and grab other passengers' feet.* No one will even suspect that I really belong in coach.
Sincerely,
Polka Dot
*true story: a friend of mine took the Polish airline LOT a few years back. One of the male passengers got drunk and did just that. Flight attendants were not amused. I haven't taken LOT in a while but a few years ago did so from time to time. It is undoubtedly true that many of the male passengers imbibe large quantities of free liquor. Contrary to the stereotype, however, they do so out of fear and not celebration. In fact, as I observed, many of the men are afraid of flying, but in order to stave off an anxiety attack and, even more importantly, to appear macho, they drink. The creepy crawler obviously drank right past the point of no return.
Back from the motherland. Unlike my flights there, I wasn't lucky this time, neither in terms of seating nor in terms of connections. While I realize how lucky I am to fly across the world to visit family, I cannot help but complain (I'm not Polish for nothing. We're not known for positive thinking). No one in immigration processing, for instance, cares that you have a connecting flight to catch. Everyone you encounter as you run to your gate, however, assures you that it's possible only if you hurry. So you have the bright time-saving idea to keep your shoes off after passing security. You thus discover how inadvisable it is to run barefoot, even if in socks, on moving walkways. While the first feels uncomfortable, the third feels like hot coals. I arrived at the gate with shoes in hand about five minutes too late and got rerouted to another flight. On a positive note, when you're sweaty and miserable, you get to ride to your new gate in a special needs vehicle.
