Active Mind, Creative Spirit
My head has been spinning far too hard lately and I am anxious for that to stop. Packing, setting the kids up, planning the itinerary, matching up with people I want to see when I am there…
The 36 hours of flying is like a portal from the angst of US culture and speed, to the unorganized chaos of Kathmandu. Life just moves differently there and the flight across so many hours is the doorway (or tunnel) that we pass through in order to get there.
The two of us sat in the airport in Seattle at a full bench of seats. People clicked on laptops, slurped sodas and cuddled their smartphones. We began studying the maps to determine the elevations of some of our first destinations. Where is Jiri, how high is Tapting, Pikey Peak is in between? We both noticed a blue pattern on the map that is not indicated on the key. Must be the glacier areas of Mt Everest and other surrounding mountains. Mary Beth looked up and said “Wait, where is everybody?” just as the PA announced “final boarding call” for our flight. I guess we were a little wrapped up in the map.
Even after dark LA smog was apparent on landing. The beautiful, perfectly coiffed agent at Korean Air checked us in and then said, “You are seated next to each other for the duration of this flight. Is that all right with you?” We looked at each other, then at him, “It’s a 13-hour flight, I just want to make sure.” he continued. And we boarded and entered The Portal.
Seattle is one of the last major time zones, so everything happens to us last. Asia gets all the new things first. I have a friend living in Hanoi, Vietnam who regularly reports “from the future”. New Years Eve celebrations, the end to the Mayan Calendar and Superbowl results all happen in Asia first, right?
But the actual flight across the dateline is not so fun. It’s long and cramped, but it works. I watched Life of Pi before considering dozing off. But the air over the Pacific is often bumpy, I guess. The Boeing 777 bumped and jostled us most of the night. I napped in 20 minute increments between announcements to buckle up. The man in the seat behind me had no trouble, however. His purr-snores were constant and not completely lost in the engine noise. I am certain I can speak in Koren these words: “Ladies and gentlemen, we continue to experience turbulence, please return to your seats.” I shifted, stretched and traded a tingly left leg for a tingly right one. Mary Beth looked over at me about half way through and whispered, “brutal.” And it is, if you expected to get any sleep. The stewardii made rounds with guava nectar and water, then hot face towels. I watched Great Expectations then napped another half hour before breakfast was served.
Right now the sun is rising on Monday in Seoul (the future!)…
It’s so pristine here. Prettier than our best malls with gorgeous models on larger-than-life perfume posters and stacks of gourmet dried fish heads on carts, rolling through the airport. One more flight and we’ll land in Kathmandu about noon, which will be midnight in Seattle. We’ll step out of The Portal and somehow be on the other side of the world.
With all you had to juggle before leaving, I’m not surprised you were spinning. I hope getting on the plane was centering.
My longest flights were to Europe. Those were hard enough.
Long flights felt like being removed from the world. A small, humming bubble of people waiting to be in the world again. Now with movies and the display of where the plane is, it’s different. Only sort of removed, perhaps.
Hot face towels sounds pretty good.