First of all, I want to thank all of you who keep asking about my next post---wowee, even I was surprised at how long it's been since I published something. My friend Karin asked me why I haven't been writing lately and my response? Life is good and I'm happy.
But we've just had a fabulous trip to Thailand and had many, many adventures--if I don't get some of them down on paper, I'm afraid I'll lose them! With your indulgence, installment #1.
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LOST AND FOUND OVER DELHI
The first leg of the trip back to Italy was Bangkok to Istanbul, 11 hours...so we settled in with books and movies and airplane food, girding our loins for the duration---you know the feeling, the timeless, interminable, other-worldly suspension of reality--we were rested and happy and aglow from our trip, so no matter how long the flight was, we were in the Zen-zone.
Dinner service was erratic and the crew seemed distracted, but we chalked it up to Turkish temperament (contrasted to Thai smiles and graciousness) and forged ahead with red wine. Then came the announcement, "Is there a Doctor on the airplane? If so, please talk to the nearest steward." Always distressing. But as I looked around, things were calm and apparently under control.
An hour later another announcement: "Due to a passenger in need of medical care, we will be making an unscheduled stop in Delhi." Then they showed the map of the flight and THAT was disconcerting---the plane literally was making a U-turn. Craned necks, whispered chatter, purposeful movement, the doctor with his stethoscope, heads together in confidential talk, and closed curtains before us....and the passengers never once groaned or whined or winced or complained--NOT ONCE.
The medical emergency added 3 hours to the flight; our 11 hours turned into 14 and we landed in Istanbul at 9 PM with nerves shattered and tired and cranky and stiff--our Zen was long gone. The Greeks were angry with the Turks for having to buy Visas to stay overnight in the country, we all had to manipulate the huuuuge Istanbul Airport and get through passport and immigration, and then Gary and I had the challenge of a surly Turkish taxi driver who didn't know where our hotel was.
We had a few ugly moments when we landed in Istanbul---that tired, cranky thing---but get through it we did.
And on the other side of it was a reminder of the universal humanity that connects us. I'm sure every single passenger on that plane couldn't help but think, "What if that was me? What if it was my husband or wife or child?" In the end, no one begrudged that sick passenger the 3 hours; no one resented the loss of sleep or a missed connection; everyone applauded the action and need to save a life. We do what has to be done; the bigger issues overshadow minor inconveniences.
We lost our Thai calm and found our connection to 500 strangers. It was a good flight home.
Postscript: We never knew what was wrong with the passenger and we will never know if he or she survived.
But we've just had a fabulous trip to Thailand and had many, many adventures--if I don't get some of them down on paper, I'm afraid I'll lose them! With your indulgence, installment #1.
______________________________________________________________________
LOST AND FOUND OVER DELHI
The first leg of the trip back to Italy was Bangkok to Istanbul, 11 hours...so we settled in with books and movies and airplane food, girding our loins for the duration---you know the feeling, the timeless, interminable, other-worldly suspension of reality--we were rested and happy and aglow from our trip, so no matter how long the flight was, we were in the Zen-zone.
Dinner service was erratic and the crew seemed distracted, but we chalked it up to Turkish temperament (contrasted to Thai smiles and graciousness) and forged ahead with red wine. Then came the announcement, "Is there a Doctor on the airplane? If so, please talk to the nearest steward." Always distressing. But as I looked around, things were calm and apparently under control.
An hour later another announcement: "Due to a passenger in need of medical care, we will be making an unscheduled stop in Delhi." Then they showed the map of the flight and THAT was disconcerting---the plane literally was making a U-turn. Craned necks, whispered chatter, purposeful movement, the doctor with his stethoscope, heads together in confidential talk, and closed curtains before us....and the passengers never once groaned or whined or winced or complained--NOT ONCE.
The medical emergency added 3 hours to the flight; our 11 hours turned into 14 and we landed in Istanbul at 9 PM with nerves shattered and tired and cranky and stiff--our Zen was long gone. The Greeks were angry with the Turks for having to buy Visas to stay overnight in the country, we all had to manipulate the huuuuge Istanbul Airport and get through passport and immigration, and then Gary and I had the challenge of a surly Turkish taxi driver who didn't know where our hotel was.
We had a few ugly moments when we landed in Istanbul---that tired, cranky thing---but get through it we did.
And on the other side of it was a reminder of the universal humanity that connects us. I'm sure every single passenger on that plane couldn't help but think, "What if that was me? What if it was my husband or wife or child?" In the end, no one begrudged that sick passenger the 3 hours; no one resented the loss of sleep or a missed connection; everyone applauded the action and need to save a life. We do what has to be done; the bigger issues overshadow minor inconveniences.
We lost our Thai calm and found our connection to 500 strangers. It was a good flight home.
Postscript: We never knew what was wrong with the passenger and we will never know if he or she survived.
