As my two-month trial period in
Luanda came and went, it was time to head back to the States to finalize
wedding details. Adam booked my flight home; however, he didn’t join me on the
flight and instead stayed behind to finish up some work before the big day. Because
Adam wasn’t traveling with me, I refused to allow him to purchase me a business
class ticket and instead decided to do the long trip economy. The thought of
two days of traveling solo in foreign airports made me a little nervous, but I
was up for the challenge. I had no idea what this trip home had in store for
me.
Adam drove me to the airport to say
goodbye. I had been teary-eyed all morning at the thought of leaving him. I
kissed him goodbye and walked up to the counter to check in for my flight. The
agent at the counter immediately realized that there was a problem with my
ticket and instructed me to see a manager. The manager explained to me that
Ethiopian policy requires that the credit card used to purchase a ticket be present at the time of checking in for the flight. Adam had purchased my
ticket on his credit card, which I obviously did not have with me. I explained
the situation to the manager while also pointing out that the flight was a
return flight that had already been paid for prior to my arrival in Luanda. He
told me that even though the purchase had been processed, I needed to get ahold
of Adam and have him bring his credit card to the airport before they could
check me in for my flight. As panic set in, the tears that I had been
suppressing all morning began to well up in my eyes. I had just enough minutes
left on my monthly plan to call Adam and let him talk to the airline manager.
Adam promised to bring the credit card in as long as they let me board my
flight. Missing my flight out of Angola meant that I missed every other flight
on my way home. The manager told Adam that he would let me board my flight in
Luanda, but if Adam did not present the card to him by the end of the day then
the airline would not let me board my connecting flight in Ethiopia. The
thought of being stranded in Ethiopia was scary, but I knew Adam wouldn’t let
that happen to me.
The manager gave me my airline
ticket just in time to make it through security and head to my gate. Prior to
entering the gate, I had to show the agent my ticket. Everyone in line ahead of
me went through without any problems, but of course a big red X showed up on
the computer screen when the agent scanned my ticket. He asked me to step
aside. A woman who worked for the airline motioned for me to follow her. She
led me outside to a steel building where all of the luggage was being handled.
I wasn’t exactly sure what I was doing or why I had to follow her. She pointed
to a pile of luggage and said, “open.” I was extremely confused at this point
considering none of the luggage in the pile belonged to me. Seeing the
confusion on my face, another woman walked up to us and looked at my ticket
before telling me that they had the wrong person and to go back to the gate. I walked
up just in time to make the first shuttle out to the plane on the runway. I
jumped off the shuttle, went through security for the second time, and found my
seat on the plane. I was relieved that I had made it through the airport and could
finally settle in for my four and a half hour flight to Ethiopia.
My relief was very short lived. As
the number of passengers on the plane increased so did the temperature. I began
sweating profusely and looked around at the other passengers as they fanned
themselves, confirming that I wasn’t the only one on the plane overheating. The
smell on the plane was horrific. Just imagine, three hundred sweaty passengers’
body odor filling up the confined space of one plane. And did I mention that
most people here don’t wear deodorant? Not that it mattered because all of the
deodorant in the world couldn’t tackle this smell. The man in front of me became so sick from
the heat that he actually began vomiting. Perfect. Lets add the smell of vomit
to the air. Feeling the restlessness of the passengers, the flight attendant
explained to us that the air conditioning wasn’t working due to a problem with
the electricity on the plane. I now realized that even if I did not melt to
death, the electricity wasn’t working properly on the plane and that presented
a whole new set of worries for me. Luckily for me, the plane took off, I cooled
down, my clothing dried, and I made it to Ethiopia.
I had a five-hour lay over in
Ethiopia before my next flight to Istanbul. I was exhausted but looking forward
to the next flight because it was from 1am-6am giving me the perfect
opportunity to catch up on some zzz’s. As I boarded the flight, I immediately
noticed a man who seemed slightly out of place. He was wearing a Starter
jacket. In Africa. Who wears a Starter jacket when it is 90 degrees outside? As
I made my way down the aisle, I looked up and noticed that my seat number was
right next to this man. Great.
I realized almost immediately that
sleep was not in my near future because my “neighbor” made sleep nearly
impossible. I am not sure whether it was the man’s first time flying and he was
nervous or if he was on something. He had an annoying habit of zipping and
unzipping his Starter jacket. Continuously. He would put his hood up and then
take it right back down. And if anyone knows anything about a Starter jacket,
it’s not exactly quiet, that is for sure. I put my headphones on, shut my eyes, and
tried to relax. Next thing I know, the man is stealing my pillow right off my
lap. I looked over just in time to see him snuggling up with his pillow AND
mine. Seeing as the man didn't speak English, I knew that asking him for my
pillow back was completely out of the question. Besides, I thought if he used my
pillow and got comfortable then maybe he would fall asleep and quit messing
with his jacket.
Just as we were starting to settle
in, the flight attendant started to hand out the late-night meal trays. My
“neighbor” was extremely impatient when it came to dinner. He began making a
scene until the flight attendant stopped delivering trays to bring him
his meal. The man shoveled the food in his mouth like he hadn’t eaten in days.
He finished so quickly that the flight attendant hadn’t even passed out all of
the meals yet. The man didn’t know what to do with his tray and after several failed attempts to get the flight attendant to take the food, he closed his
seat-back table with the tray of food still on it. Food spilled out on the
floor, his lap, and even me. I was extremely annoyed at this point and asked
the flight attendant if there was another available seat on the plane. Of
course the flight was completely full. She apologized knowing that I was
sitting next to what any flight attendant would consider “the passenger from Hell.”
Five hours and one migraine later, I landed in Istanbul. My “neighbor” stood up
and started to climb over me as soon as the plane landed. At this point I was tired
of being nice. I pushed him off my lap and back into his seat while yelling
“no” at him. Despite the language barrier, I am pretty sure he got the hint.
I
had a seven-hour layover in Turkey, so I checked into my flight early and made
sure that my bag got transferred onto my flight back to the States. The last thing I needed was to land in the States with no luggage. The agent
at the counter assured me that my bag had been transferred and not to worry
about it. He informed me that I just needed to pick my bag up in Chicago. I was
relieved to know that my bag had made it to Turkey and was already waiting to
head back to the States. The twelve-hour flight to Chicago went by fast. I
caught up on some sleep that I missed out on the night before due to my
unpleasant “neighbor.”
It
felt so nice to step off the airplane in Chicago and hear English chit chat
around me. I could read everything as well, something I hadn’t been able to do
in two months. I made it through customs and waited patiently for my bright
pink bag to make its way down the baggage claim. I waited, and waited, and
waited. The conveyer belt stopped with no sign of a bright pink bag. As I
walked up to the airline counter to file a lost baggage claim, the woman at the
counter asked me if I was Sarah Berger. I was startled considering I hadn’t
even had a chance to get a word out before she said my name. I told her that
was my name and showed her some identification. The agent apologized and said
that my bag had been left in Turkey. The airline called her immediately after
our flight took off to say that my bag was the only bag left behind. Of course
my bag was the only bag left behind. She promised me that it would be on
the next flight back to the States and would be delivered to whatever address I
specified.
Although
my glass of water was starting to get awfully low, I still tried to keep up my
glass half-full attitude. My dad suggested that since my luggage did not make
the flight, I try to catch an earlier flight home. The airlines were extremely
helpful and let me switch my flight at no additional charge. I grabbed my
ticket and ran to the gate knowing that the flight would be boarding. I was surprised
to find everyone sitting there anxiously. The agent apologized to everyone and
stated that the scheduled flight attendant didn’t show up for her flight
tonight, and they were trying to find a last minute flight attendant to replace
her. An overwhelming sense of guilt came over me. I felt as if I owed everyone
an apology because obviously my bad luck had been carried over to this flight
when I switched my ticket. The replacement flight attendant arrived and an hour
and a half later I was home sweet home.
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