[SPOILER ALERT: Its a long story, so I give away the ending in the third sentence. No hard feelings if you don't finish.]
With resolute determination and a non refundable ticket, I began my two day trip to Vietnam. I was prepared for a long haul; I wasn't prepared for a four day practice of living in the moment, mindfulness and repeating a happiness mantra: "may I be happy, may you be happy." The result was that when I finally arrived in Saigon/ Ho Chi Minh City two days late and without my luggage, I was unfazed and smiling.
The trip began on a gray, wet Wednesday morning in Kansas City, part of a storm stretching from Dallas to Chicago. Ever the mother, my mom predicted the foreshadowing trouble and I laughed her off. Little did I know how right she was and how much ironic laughing that would cause. I arrived to the airport early enough that the woman who checked me in decided to bump me onto a flight that was already delayed and could board at any minute. With a sigh of relief and excitement I thought the trip was starting off well: I got to leave even earlier than planned thereby avoiding that inevitable waterfall from my mother's face. I kissed my mom, hugged her tight and then separated quick like a bandaid, departing for security and my awaiting plane.
I was told the plane could begin boarding at any minute so I didn't bother finding a comfortable spot, I just sat down facing the gate. Suddenly I felt a bit out of place amongst traveling business men with my dressed down, long haul comfort clothes and one shoe sticking half way out of each of my carry on bags. An hour later it became clear that there was no need to rush through security.
About the time my original flight to Chicago was supposed to take off, my new "earlier" flight started boarding. I found my seat, got all situated and had already met my neighbor who was on his was to Cambodia when I got my first piece of bad news: Chicago was shut down due to weather.
On the second boarding I fell asleep as soon as we reached the tarmac. Take off and touch down are my favorite parts of a flight but I was tired. I have slept soundly from one to the other on many flights before so I was not surprised to find the plane being taxied to a gate when I reawoke. I smiled sleepily and asked my neighbor if we had arrived. His eruption of laughter and a quick glance outside told me we were still in Kansas City. The plane had merely done a tour of the runway only to be turned around and sent back to the gate.
We deplaned and I watched the clock tick past my departure time for Korea. I am not a novice traveler so I know to expect delays and the unexpected, but I have never been stuck in my city of origin before. Like most passengers I considered going home and trying again tomorrow, but my bags were loaded and going to Vietnam with or with out me. Not willing to leave my bags to travel without me, I decided to wait it out... about this time I decided that I was not going to get to Vietnam as scheduled so I was just going to enjoy traveling. To kill time, I began imaging a rope of light connecting me to each person and through it pulsed pure happiness. I pumped out as much pure happiness to each distressed passenger I saw. It is impossible to focus on your own situation when you are busy wishing happiness on that many frustrated people. Eight hours later we departed for and finally landed in Chicago.
Unfortunately, I made my way all the way over to my next airline carrier in another terminal only to find out that they didn't have another flight for two days and American Airlines had to re book my flight. So I trudged back to American Airlines and got in the back of the re booking line. and waited, and waited, and waited, wishing happiness upon each person I saw. I was actually smiling at this point which made me very different from my fellow passengers. When I arrived at the counter, other passengers seemed to get new itineraries and be on their way quickly. My situation seemed to need a lot more typing... I just smiled and tried to make small talk. When the guy behind the counter handed me my new itinerary: Chicago to San Francisco, to New York, to Hong Kong, to Saigon, I temporarily forgot my mindfulness when I quipped in my own special way, that he could just throw my bags away now so that at least I know where they were lost. He smiled and I recovered my peace. After much more typing, I was booked for a flight to Hong Kong the following afternoon and a room at the Best Western that night.(no saving the hotel room I booked last minute in Saigon, but at least I wasn't sleeping on the floor or in an airport chair) One final snag as an airline manager had to approve my emailed Vietnamese visa approval letter (apparently the airlines haven't caught up to this... I was delayed every time because nobody believed it was the equivalent to a real visa)
The man behind the counter thanked me for my patience and I saw the true victims of travel delays: the airline employees. I smiled and wished everyone behind the counter pure happiness one more time.
In the hotel, I was finally able to finish Season 3 of "The Walking Dead" online and make plans to see an old school friend in Hong Kong during my overnight lay over there. I putzed around the Best Western until check out time and made my way back to the airport. Good thing I had two changes of clothes. The airport was full of stranded passengers happy to be getting on their way.
I got in line for my new airline: Cathay Pacific and was immediately told that I would have to check my biggest carry on bag. I was a bit frustrated at first because it fits into the overhead compartment just fine, but I realized that when I leave the airport in Hong Kong I will only have my back pack to carry around so this was even better! I repositioned a few things including those loose kitchen shoes so that I could check the bag.
I asked if they could check to see if they have my checked bag from American Airlines. The girl behind the counter smiled indeterminately at me and I smiled back assuming that we were not going to understand each other in this conversation so I just wished her happiness and the baggage handlers happiness so that they would take care of my bag. I had to wait awhile for a manager to approve my visa approval letter again so I turned around and wished everyone waiting in line happiness.
The flight to Hong Kong was fast and uneventful. Normally I use these long overseas flights to catch up on all the movies I haven't seen but I could not seem to stay awake through an entire movie. The first half of Lincoln, Hitchcock, Argo, Zero Dark Thirty and something else were all really good. I should finish them sometime.
At Hong Kong I walked off the plane, changed money and got my passport stamped, no big deal, no questions asked. Welcome to Hong Kong here's a 30 day visa. I was a bit intimidated about finding the restaurant where my friend is the pastry chef but two train stops from the airport, a ten feet taxi ride where the driver angrily told me I was where I wanted to go and wandering up a few flights of stairs and Viola! I found it.
I had just enough time to have a coffee at the bar and check out the Menu and watch pizzas go out at the swanky Italian restaurant before my friend showed up and whisked me off to a Japanese restaurant for noodles and catching up.
After dinner, a stroll around the lively night streets of Hong Kong and the last ferry ride across the bay, I made my way back to the airport to kill a few hours before my early morning flight into Saigon. I killed those hours by wishing every person in the airport, at that point mostly cleaning crew, pure happiness. At that point it had become second nature. There wasn't any effort involved but the result was that I myself felt full of happiness because I was giving so much of it away. I was neither anxious, scared or excited, just happy.
The flight to Saigon was a breeze. As soon as I got off the plane there was a window for Visas. My paperwork was already filled out and organized so I handed it over with $95 cash and 30 minutes later they called my name to get my visa. I walked through immigration without issue and found the luggage corral that everyone was gathered around. Nobody looked familiar so I turned around and saw my small bag riding in a circle alone. I grabbed it and stood there for a minute naively thinking it was the first bag off the plane and everyone would rush around me soon...
After a few minutes I realized mine was last bag and the other bags had been cleared away. Sure that my big bag was in lost and found, I trudged over to a huge pile on the other side of the room. Turns out that was not lost and found... I found the window for lost and found and three very pretty smiling girls eagerly took all the paperwork I could pull out of my backpack. Amused by the catastrohy of it all, I just waited while the girls chatted and giggled and typed. One of them said my bag had arrived and pointed to the far side of the room where I had just come from. With a huge exhale and a smile bigger than my face I thanked each girl and tried not to run back to the far side of the room. Half way over however, it donned on me that she was referring to the bag that I was already carrying...
So in mid stride I turned about face and walked back. Again, amused the ridiculousness of it all I was almost laughing as I tried to explain that there should be a bigger bag waiting for me... There was no checking this time. We all knew my bag was not in Saigon. I did a quick inventory of everything I had: two changes of dirty clothes, a blanket and all my shoes, even the kitchen shoes that were sticking half way out of my carry on. I filled out the lost bag report and the girl told me that if they find the bag it should go back to my starting destination. "Perfect" was my only response.
Before I left, all the girls giggled one last time and one of them told me I was very handsome and very kind. I smiled knowingly, winked at her and wished them all happiness. Then I changed a little money and arranged a cab, also smiling stupidly. I didn't care. I had arrived in Vietnam!
Friday, May 17, 2013
Tuesday, May 14, 2013
Relax. You've Done This Before
Wednesday, April 10th, 2013 2:00 a.m.
Six hours to liftoff. My heart is racing the clock to see which can tick the fastest. I am almost frantically unpacking, refolding and repacking my one suitcase. The items for my carry on bag are strewn about in a circle around me. 18"x 18" boxes containing every possession worth keeping are taped closed, labeled and scattered around the main floor of my mother's house. They will be placed in the basement storage room until I don't know when. The rest of my things, mostly clothes piled around the couch, totally obscuring it, are waiting to be donated. A thousand odds and ends still nag at the back of my mind: chiefly where I am I going to sleep when I arrive in Ho Chi Minh City/ Saigon, Vietnam at 11p.m. tomorrow night.
I drop everything. I need to book a room. The search for a reasonable room in a central location a few hours before take off is agonizing. How close is this place to where I want to stay the next night? Why is that room only $9? Will they still have my room at 11p.m.?
I settle on a safe room for $25. Shouldn't be any surprises.
Back to my suitcase. My heart only beats faster.
The suitcase is packed. It is two pounds overweight. Pull out a blanket. Why am I bringing a blanket to the tropics?! I've needed a blanket in the tropics before. Repack the blanket in the carry on. The suitcase is exactly the weight limit. Thank you luggage scale.
Carry on bag packed with blanket, changes of clothes and all my shoes. One pair doesn't fit. Why am I bringing kitchen shoes anyway?
All electronics and matching cords are accounted for. They are packed into backpack. All paperwork and passport organized in a folder. Folder packed.
Kitchen shoes stuffed in the backpack. Each sticking half way out a different pocket. Will they both make it?
Its 4:00 a.m. Finished Packing.
What was I going to do next? What do I NEED to do next?
This was a mistake. Why am I moving to Vietnam?! This doesn't even make sense!
RELAX. You've done this before:
Sunday, June 16th, 2006 4:30 a.m.
Two and a half hours to liftoff. I couldn't sleep so I stayed up watching Turner Classic Movies all night. I am walking across my mother's basement in the dark. I stop, take a deep breath, squeeze the pillow in my arms for dear life and reality hits me: I am walking to the car that will take me to the airport to fly to New York to start culinary school. Everything I have known in my life up to this point is staying here, what isn't staying here is packed in my suitcase by the door. I will be sharing a new room with a complete stranger in a strange place tonight. I have no idea what I'll be doing tomorrow or the next day: I'm scared. I breathe out, relax my death grip on the pillow and confidently walk to the car.
April 10th, 2013 4:30 a.m.
I was so much braver then. Or naive.
Time to cut my losses. Clear up odds and ends. Put them away. Whatever doesn't get done won't be remembered or matter by tomorrow. My bags are packed. My paperwork is in order. I have a place to sleep tomorrow night.
Breathe in. Breathe out. I am ready.
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