The Longest Trip

I have not written one of these in a long while. Part of it is, I guess, that we have not had this much un-luck with the airline business for a while and part of it is the fact that about a year ago we stopped flying altogether for about a year. But let me tell you: it caught up with us during the most recent trip to Romania, and back.

Grab a long cup of something. We'll be a while!

It actually started with the trip to Romania, first. We made it to Iasi, our final destination there, but our luggage did not. We filed a 'lost luggage' claim in Iasi for both our suitcases, but they could not tell us where they were tracked last. In the US they can tell you almost instantly when the luggage was last scanned, what airport, but in Iasi they told us it takes up to three hours for our claim to become actualized in the computer system and for them to get an answer back.

They called us from the airport the next day to tell us that we need to come and pick up the luggage, and that it had made it to Iasi, finally. They could deliver it to us, but they would have to open it to ensure there is nothing illegal in the suitcases (for customs purposes, since we were coming in from a non-EU country), and they do not recommend us not being there when this was happening. Plus, being a Saturday, they could not deliver it till Monday to us. Their delivery system does not work during weekends. (forget that people travel, the airport is open during weekends, and people lose luggage, but … delivery not working. OK!)

So, we go to the airport, to find that only one of our bags had made it to Iasi, but the other one had not. We ask why but they could not tell us. They tell us that the other one is in Bucharest, and it will be shipped most likely with the next flight (in 2 hours) and we should come back for it.

As those of you who follow our Facebook feeds know, my uncle is some sort of a big shot for the Romanian airlines, TAROM, in Iasi. So, he made a couple of phone calls after this episode and found out that they could not send both suitcases at the same time because the weight of the plane was at the limit, and our suitcase had to be left behind, as it did not make the overall plane weight. One suitcase. 50 lbs! Threw off the entire plane weight. All right!

We drove back to the airport for the second time that evening and collected the second suitcase. I was just grateful that everyone there was very kind, patient and really helpful and we did not even have to bribe anyone.

After spending two weeks in Iasi with my parents and seeing some friends and family, we were scheduled to come back home on May 4. I spent a whole weekend trying to book this trip, because it was close to impossible to find connections that made any sense at all. Due to various reasons, we did not book this trip way in advance, like I normally do. We booked it about a month and a half (barely) before we flew. So, the number of really good flights, with layovers that made any sense in airports where you do not risk being blown up was really limited. One of the connections we kept finding was through Dulles, Washington, DC and that was one of my biggest requirements to not go through that airport, as it is hell! Especially for international flights, it is hell! (as a fun fact, the three letter word for the Dulles airport is IAD. Those who speak Romanian know that spells “hell” quite clearly).

Another major requirement was that I did not want a 12 hour layover anywhere else. But a compromise had to be made, and I finally did book our trip with a 9 hour layover in Bucharest, on our way back to The States.

So, on May 4^th, we got up around 8 AM and packed to leave Iasi and return home. Our flight from Iasi to Bucharest (serviced by TAROM) was scheduled for 7 PM. After that, we would sleep at a hotel in the airport and be back at the Bucharest airport at 6 AM the following morning to fly to Paris (serviced by Air France) , and then from there directly to Raleigh-Durham (serviced by Delta). That was the plan. But plans as they come are made to be messed with.

My big shot airline uncle calls us around 12 PM the day of our departure and says “hey, did you guys receive a confirmation from your airline/ booking service or whatever that you have been redirected to fly through Frankfurt tomorrow, before you get to Paris?” I had received a confirmation ONLY from Delta about the flight from Paris, that it was coming up and it looked on time and that I need to prepare, bla bla bla, the usual. I told him “no, we did not receive such a confirmation”, and where in the world is he getting Frankfurt from?!

Mom already knew from the radio that Air France is on strike and their flights are grounded but did not think that we were going with Air France, so she had not told us anything. She also ran into one of their strikes before and TAROM serviced the flight instead, as their partner, so she was thinking TAROM might take us from Bucharest to Paris, since Air France was on strike. But nope, TAROM had no available planes, evidently, and the flight from Bucharest to Paris now became two flights: Bucharest to Frankfurt, and Frankfurt to Paris through Lufthansa. This would put us in Paris before the Delta flight to Raleigh-Durham, since we had a 3 and a half hour layover there and had some time to kill. This is why I usually like layovers between 2 and 4 hours – to leave enough room for changes, delays, and airline whimsy-ness...

Thank God for nosy relatives in high places, I guess. If it were not for my uncle searching our flights for our return trip simply out of curiosity and being a flying geek we would not have found this out till we got the Bucharest the next morning. Not that knowing in advance helped in any way really, other than giving us a new perspective, and real expectations. We were to thank God and curse airlines and airline services several times during what it was to follow. But let's not jump ahead.

The flight from Iasi to Bucharest was uneventful, except for my backpack beeping when it went through the security belt in Iasi. They asked me if I had electronics in it. I said “sure, I did.” I had a camera, a couple of power banks, an MP3 player, chargers, etc. They opened it and scanned them all separately. This was news to me, that electronics might get you in trouble at the check-in line, but there you go. You live and learn. Or fly and learn, rather. I still don't know which of my electronics beeped or was the problem. My iPad was already in a bin by itself, and my husband had a camera and a phone in his backpack, but his didn't beep. I also had batteries and power banks in mine, and he didn't. Who knows?! They never tell you.

We had to pick up our luggage in Bucharest, because they do not check it to your destination from Iasi, for some reason. We picked them up there, and went to our hotel for the night. The hotel stay was lovely, to have a place where you could at least stretch for a bit. A million times better than the dirty chairs in the airport, for sure. We did not sleep much those few hours in the hotel, but the quiet, and relative cleanliness of the hotel was nice.

The next morning, we were in the airport at 4 AM, to check in for our flights that day. Because my uncle told me we are flying Lufthansa from Bucharest, we knew to go to their counter to check in first. As my booking company never sent me a confirmation from the flights that day, I would not have known that I was to show up at the Lufthansa counter, and I would have shown up at Air France. No idea if anyone would have been there to even redirect me, since the company was on strike and all. Like I said: thank God for nosy uncles!

We board the flight in Bucharest, after checking in our luggage, passing through security and passport control. Our luggage was tagged to go through Frankfurt-Paris-Raleigh. We were given tickets from Bucharest to Frankfurt, and from Frankfurt to Paris, but they could not give us tickets for the Delta flight. They said they cannot access that system and we should get boarding passes in Paris, when we get to the gate. Lufthansa is not a Delta partner. This happened before, so this was not a surprise really. The luggage was tagged, as I mentioned, all the way to the destination, in Raleigh.

After boarding the flight to Frankfurt in Bucharest, the Captain came on almost immediately as the scheduled time was up and said they are having to reboot the computer of the airplane as they are seeing some errors, so the lights will go out and the air will stop briefly in the plane, as the computer would reboot. So, they did that, then we waited for another 20 minutes or so after that. He came on again to say, “Well, we rebooted the computer, but that didn't fix it. So, now, we are calling a technician to have them look at it and try to fix it.” How does one fly with a broken computer is beyond me and why do you find out that the computer is broken after you have loaded your plane with 100+ people?! The Captain also said “I cannot tell you how much longer this will be, we put an order in for the technician and we have to wait for them to come.”

We waited for another hour or so. People started getting antsy. We had 45 minute layover in Frankfurt, and we knew if we waited any longer we would not make the flight from Frankfurt to Paris. I started looking online (thank God for turning on our phones for the International Data plan, so we could do this!) to see if there were any other flights from Frankfurt to Paris that day that would possibly get us to Paris in time for our Delta flight to Raleigh. There were two more flights that would allow us to still make the Delta flight, so I was hoping the computer will get fixed so we can make it.

The technician came and spent probably 10-15 minutes trying to fix the computer (after waiting for him for half hour or so). The Captain came in again on the speaker to say that the technician could not fix the computer so now they have to replace it. So, they will put an order in for another computer and once they replace it, we'll be good to go, but that he doesn't know how long that will take.

All in all, we waited for the computer to be replaced about two and a half to three hours. We missed all of our connections from Frankfurt to Paris and at the end of this wait we knew we could not get to the Delta flight we had book out of Paris and directly home. In all likelihood, there is no other flight directly from Paris to Raleigh, NC, so we knew we were in for some major rerouting …

You have to understand a thing or two about some of the airports in Europe. I am not sure why they all do this but they do: instead of parking their planes right on the terminal gates, they park their planes sometimes miles away from the airport building. This was the case with the Lufthansa flight in Bucharest: there was nowhere to go. We all sat in our chairs and waited for up to three hours for someone to fix the computer of the plane. The thoughts everyone had about flying with a possibly not OK computer are the stuff of nightmares, I am sure.

While we waited, the head steward came to almost everyone on the plane to reassure everyone that everyone will be rerouted and everyone will be on a different flight by the time we get to Frankfurt. He also said they will obtain the rerouting information and will share it with everyone so that once people get off this plane they will know where to pick up their next connection. This was true: he came on the speaker and told everyone who was supposed to fly to wherever next where they were being rerouted – what new flight number and what new destination. During this entire crazy day, the staff on this Lufthansa plane were definitely the most considerate, patient and thorough people out of everyone. When we heard our redirection information, we were not sure what direction we were going to be rerouted in, but we had some flight numbers and times that we could see on the airport monitors.

Before we even got off the plane in Frankfurt, I went on a Lufthansa website and put my reservation number in. My uncle said no matter what happens with the rerouting of the planes, my reservation number will always stay the same. And he said if they keep rerouting me to go to any site of the airline I am with (in this case Lufthansa) and my reservation should show all the legs of all of my flights. He was right. We went online while we waited and we knew that Lufthansa had rerouted us and we were no longer going through Paris. We were now going from Frankfurt to Washington, Dulles (yeah, you're allowed to sigh, just like I did – well, I did more than sigh), then from there to Raleigh. There was a Frankfurt-Dulles flight at 12.20 and we were allegedly going to make that.

We found the gate for the Dulles flight (at 12.20 PM). As nice as the airplane staff was before, the gate staff was just as rude and abrasive. The new flight was now going to be serviced by United Airlines. The people at the gate were a mixture of American (United and TSA) and German (Lufthansa) people. They were all crass and inconsiderate.

We got boarding passes, as our boarding passes from Bucharest were no longer valid, of course, and then we were put in groups, according to what group we would board with (1 through 4). They were yelling at people to get into their own queues, and everyone had to be in a queue, not on chairs, or anything. They were nowhere near boarding, but they needed everyone standing in the lines for each group.

They called my name and an American gentleman said that I was “selected by the TSA to be thoroughly searched.” They took me behind these removable walls and two women met me. One of them requested that I put my carry-on bags (a backpack and a purse) on a table and open them. She asked me if I had any electronics. I said “yes”. She asked me what kind. I told her and she wanted to see all of them. I pulled them out and she swiped them with a blue wipe, and then she put the wipe on a machine and she saw something or other on a computer screen. She told me I was OK. Then, another woman asked to see my shoes. I took them off and she bent them and twisted them every which way. She told me everything was OK and I was cleared.

I was livid with frustration. The TSA apparently needed this from me! The TSA! This is after the same institution took my money to “pre-check clear me” for all of the flights they have authority on! I paid $90 and waited for 6 weeks for them to check my records and decide that I am safe on every flight, but now … I was somehow showing up on their machines that I needed to be searched! I was thinking they need to write a filter for this random search software that excludes the people they already decided are OK, but you know … too much to ask!

They started boarding, but being in one group or another proved to not matter. Boarding was completely random and completely different for everyone. There were three lines for boarding and they kept shoving everyone, no matter what their group was, into all three, equally: one line was not even manned: you'd walk through it and you'd scan your boarding pass yourself, the second one was manned and they would scan the boarding pass for you. A third line was manned by a TSA (or some sort of American authority) that asked you if you bought anything in the airport, if yes, what, if your luggage was with you the whole time and whether anyone gave you something to carry on the plane. Then, after you passed this person, another person scanned your boarding pass and let you on the plane.

Well, no, not on the plane, but on this corridor that ended in a lot of stairs. So, after this crazy boarding process, we were all shoved in this hallway and then down these never ending stairs (not escalators, stairs!). There were no windows to the outside and we were not sure where we were going. Someone asked under his breath “are we boarding, or are we being drafted or traded?” We were all tight like sardines standing on the stairs and people with rolling carry-ons were cursing because they had to carry them down these stairs.

After that, they put us on buses to take us to the plane. We drove a long time – seemed like 5-6, maybe more miles, far from the airport and we came to a United plane. There, we were given instructions how to board, as they were boarding from the front and the back of the plane at the same time. No one had a clue where to go, they were yelling at us again but we were all like chickens with our heads cut off, going back and forth just trying to get somewhere on that damn plane! It was mayhem!

We finally boarded and tried to settle down. If you have flown overseas before you know that those planes are huge. This plane had three seats on the right, four in the middle and three more on the left. So, for each row you have 10 seats. The plane was packed. It was going to be a 9 hour flight to Dulles, so everyone had lots of things to settle with: books, tablets, laptops, eye patches, blankets, neck pillows, etc. A family with two small children had car seats, bassinets, many shoulder bags. We all took a while to settle down.

Too preoccupied with all of this, we didn't realize that we were way past our time to take off. We were delayed again. No one told us anything. After about an hour or maybe more, one of the stewardesses came on the speaker to say “Ladies and gentlemen, we are working on an issue, so this is why we have not left yet. I just wanted you to know that we're working on something.” That was it. Then, after another 30 minutes or so, they started bringing out snacks and drinks. Someone asked the flight assistant “are we leaving any time soon?”, the answer was “nope!”. Someone else asked “are we going to have to leave the plane?”, the answer from the stewardess was “that would be the best case scenario.” Umm … we were all stunned! (reminder: at this point, we're on a United plane, all staff American).

After about two and a half hours on this plane, the Captain comes on and says “folks, we got a problem with the water draining system and we called a crew to have it fixed. However, they have not fixed it in a way that would allow us to take this plane up in the air, so for this reason, we are going to take everyone off the plane and rebook them to other flights. This plane is not going anywhere today.” This was like adding insult to injury: after keeping us cooped up in there for close to three hours (again, miles from the airport, we could not be outside of the plane), we were told “no soup for us!”

We waited another 30 minutes since this announcement for the buses. People were getting antsy about wanting to leave and the same stewardess who came on earlier saying “we're working on something” said “folks, we are literally waiting on the buses to arrive to take us back to the terminal. You must understand that we're sharing these buses with all the other airlines, so you need to be patient.” Got it! A large cup of patience coming right up! Especially while across the world from where you need to be and no idea how to get where you need to be. Sure thing!

The darn buses slowly arriving to pick us up from the airplane

You thought you could just exit the plane and wait for the bus on the pavement, but think again: we were policed everywhere  .... 

.... and standing on more stairs, waiting for our turn to move. All packed tight.

The buses did come and off we went to the terminal again. At this point, it was a little after 3 PM (the flight was supposed to leave at 12.20 originally). We had to walk up all those steps again. Again, people with huge carry-ons had to haul them upstairs all by themselves. No idea whether there was an elevator anywhere. There was no escalator or ramp for disabled people, that we could see.

We went to the United service desk, because I kept searching our rebooking online and we had not been rebooked. Lufthansa had rebooked us before, but United was not rebooking anyone. So, we went to their service desk to be rerouted. The very rude lady yelled that she is closing the office for the day, and we needed to go to gate Z19 which will reroute everyone. We went there and there was a flight boarding and people in line for that and then all of the people on our flight too. There were hundreds of people in that line. I was thinking we might be there till next day JUST to get to the counter.

In the meantime, the airport looked like it was shutting down. All stores but one were closed, and all the gates seemed to be closed, except for Z19. We overheard someone that they rebooked themselves from the United app. We're not normally United flyers, so we had to download the app, and with our reservation number, we rerouted ourselves to the next flight to Dulles – luckily there was a second one there, and then one last flight of the day in Dulles to Raleigh. Maybe, just maybe we might make it home that day! We still had to stand in line and get boarding passes, but we knew we were on that flight.

We bought some snacky food at the only store open next to our gate and waited for the second flight to Dulles. At this point, we felt desperate. If this last flight would not work out, then what?! We would have to spend the night in Frankfurt, then the next day go who knows where? And where would our luggage be by this time, being rerouted so many times?!

We repeated the crazy boarding process again (standing in line with your group), and I got re-flagged again by the TSA to be “thoroughly searched.” I went to the search people to be searched again, and I had the boarding stub from the previous flight saying that the search happened (they put a sticker on your boarding pass when you pass and they highlight it with a marker) and showed them I already did that. They said I was OK, then, and no need to go behind the mobile walls for searching again. I was paged and called back at the podium twice after this, because I was showing up as “random search” still. I kept going back to the search people and they kept telling me I am OK, but they never cleared me in the computer. After three times, I think they finally cleared me.

We finally boarded the second plane to Dulles and the flight was already delayed by almost an hour. We waited on the plane for another hour and a half. If everything had gone smoothly, we would have had a 2 hour and 40 minute layover in Dulles. Since we were again being delayed (this time, we were not sure why, no one told us anything), our layover was more like an hour and a half now. We were hoping that they will make up time since it's a 9 hour flight, but flying against the stream is always slow.

One of the most maddening things was to not know what gate any of these flights were leaving from, when you're already pressed for time. Notice the only delayed flight is the United Airlines one and there is no gate assigned (only a letter, "Z", but no gate number  - it could be one minute or 12 minutes away from this screen). 

We eventually took off and we did not make up all of the time. We landed in Dulles with a layover of exactly an hour since we left the plane. Since we had to clear passports, and then find our luggage, clear customs, drop off our luggage, pass security again, find our gate for Raleigh, we were 100% sure we were not going to make this last flight home, at 10.35.

There is no way to rush through passports control and filling out the custom forms! You're behind tons of people who may be doing this for the first time. It's confusing and there is no help. Lots of these people didn't speak English. We were behind all sorts of folks.

Not only this, but the customs and passport control people were closed for the day in the terminal where we landed and we had to board buses again to be taken to the main terminal. Again: if you have planes coming in from overseas, why close the customs offices?! And if you have to close them in one terminal, why do you land there? Land in the one where you have all the services working. I know, I am asking for logic! Silly me!

After the passport control and filling out the customs information, we rushed to the baggage claim area. An angel of a gentleman asked us where we were flying next, and we told him Raleigh-Durham. He said in a rush “great, we're holding up the plane for Raleigh-Durham so you'll make it.” I did not believe that was true, but then the same announcement came on the speakerphone and listed several destinations for which they were holding planes for people on our flight. I thanked God again.

We finally made the flight to Raleigh, the last of the night, but only after being taken again by bus to probably the same terminal where we landed from Frankfurt to begin with. The irony of it all.

When I was in my seat in this last plane to Raleigh, completely breathless from running across the airport to catch it, I just started crying uncontrollably. I was trying all day to be brave and composed and calm, because there was no other way to go through all this otherwise, but at the end I lost it. It felt good to cry. And through this whole ordeal, our bags made it this time! They had the wrong tags on them (originally routed through Paris), but they made it!

All in all, the trip from when we boarded the first flight from Iasi to the time when the last flight landed in Raleigh took 36 hours (with a few hour break in the Bucharest hotel). We had been awake for 48 hours, not counting the time in the hotel where we hardly got any sleep and the very poor sleep we get on a plane. We started the trip on May 4^th. We entered our house on May 6^th. This will make for never forgetting to celebrate Cinco de Mayo! Definitely the longest trip of my life.

If there was one thing I learned during this whole thing was: always have a working phone everywhere in the world. There is a lot you can do on a site or on an app nowadays (like rebooking your own flight to avoid standing in crazy lines) and even without wifi, you can do it over the data plan. You'll pay later, but it's worth it. The second thing a phone does is keep you sane! You can stay in touch with your support system (relatives, friends, your social network) to take your mind off the craziness around you. I would not have made it with just one good cry otherwise.

I have friends who pretty much live in airports for their jobs. I could not imagine running into these problems everyday and getting to a point where they would feel “normal”. I felt frustrated, angry, dirty beyond belief and very helpless through this whole process. I love to travel, but not at this kind of cost …

Safe skies, everyone. And I wish you all at least one angel like we had to save your days, when things do get tangled!

The Longest Shortest Flight. And the Life Questions It Bore

Besides making me chuckle and making me feel like I am looking into a mirror (she is born one day after me, after all) Anne Lamott's books always make me evaluate my life. They always make me ponder upon such things like “where am I?”, “where am I going?”, “have I made the right choices so far?” (in case you are wondering, they are all “right” choices), and “are my thighs the right size?”. You know – the important stuff.

But this one time in particular, recently, I was reading an Anne Lamott book (“Some Assembly Required”) on a flight from Montreal to Toronto and I was not only forced to ask the questions, as usual. I was forced to answer them, too. After all, I had plenty of time. That plane was not going anywhere.

So, by now, you probably think I am crazy, because the flight from Montreal to Toronto should not be long enough to ponder one's existence. Oh, but you are mistaken. Pilots and airports lately can make the shortest distance seem never ending. The Toronto airport, as big and international, and “key” as it might sound, had only ONE (it calls for all caps here) runway open. ONE. That was it. When we arrived in the Montreal airport, several flights to Toronto were canceled because of early morning fog. Then, later flights (ours included) were being delayed, because they could only fly one airplane in at one time, and let one fly away, after that one. Given that Toronto is a super busy and super international airport, there were tens of planes queued up to land and take off.

We boarded the plane in Montreal and waited for the go from Toronto that we could leave. We waited for an hour, I think, on the ground, in Montreal. Then, the pilot let us off the plane because there was no sign that we would be given the OK to approach Toronto any time soon (the flight is about 35-45 minutes, if that!). We waited at the gate for another hour. Then, we finally boarded and we flew towards Toronto. We're all giddy with life and anticipation by then.

And we make it, we are told, to the capital of Ontario, but we cannot see land. We are all en-wrapped in clouds, and we are hovering. We can really feel like we are not moving forward, but just going around in circles, or just hovering. And we hang there. For another hour and a half, or more. A flight of 30 minutes took about two and a half hours from gate to gate. I have flown over the Atlantic many a times, but a flight never seemed so long as this one. When you're thinking you're there in a spell and you're not, the seconds linger and extend like balls of warm chewing gum between a finger and a thumb … So, then, during this time, with nothing to look at but sleeping people all around me, I am forced in mandatory confinement, just me, myself and Anne Lamott. Pondering life and meaning of it all.

Many a things came to my mind. Things I am happy about – like the fact that I made it on this other side of open heart surgery and I lived to tell the tale with only two or three maybe brain cells missing; like the fact that I have shelter, and a job and food good enough to eat at the end of every day; and the fact that my husband is there to catch me every time I fall, on my face, or otherwise; the fact that I had just visited my nephews who take my breath away with possibility and unbounded dreams; the fact that the war has not started just yet.

But then, there were the dark thoughts, too. Things I am not so happy about. Like the fact that some days I feel physically exhausted with putting up an appearance anymore – to live in Utah as an 'outsider' will do this to you after seven years. For those who know me well, you'll wonder why I bother with the appearance, since I never seemed to get the hang of it before. I am not sure I do now, either, but I have to earn my living, so putting up an appearance it is; or at least trying my damnest to do that. Some other things that I questioned during my confinement were: I miss my friends, I miss North Carolina, I miss the Ocean, and life is too short to not have what you want nearby, especially when you could, theoretically. I also am tired of having no friends, no real friends, close by … you know the ones you could call in the middle of the day on Sunday and just go out to the drive-in for ice cream, or something …

I never live for regrets, so being here in Utah for the past seven years has not been a bad thing at all, but it's like a circle that never completed. It's missing a big chunk of it, and it's starting to collapse into itself.

Then, I questioned my job, my role on this planet. I have felt a book, maybe several coming to me over the years, but now, that I have literally seen death, I should get the memo and the ultimatum that time is precious. And books are not written from the grave. Lots to think about it here. Huge sigh!

Like any Lamott book would do, it made me reconsider and redefine my relationship with my parents. As always, there is a lot of complicated “stuff” there. Lots and lots of love, with many a disappointment mixed in. But to quote my mom “it's a sad day when your kids judge you.” But what if they don't leave you any choice but to judge them? What if they can't see that? I know, I know … there is always a choice … blah, blah, blah – it does not make it easier, because we're human and they raised us smart and questioning, so we judge them … I know now not to let their lack of care for themselves make me cry and make me lose sleep. It's still hard, because, like I said, there is lots of love and lots of wanting them to live forever, but … I cannot pity them anymore. That is just it: my pity meter has gotten stuck on empty. And the refill station has closed for business. I hope for the best, but I have a life, one fragile, solitary life of my own to live, too … so I won't poison it with my frustration to their disregard of theirs. But it hurts, and it bleeds, and it makes me sad …

When we made it to the other end of the runway, I felt like I used to feel after confession: like all my worries were left behind me, washed away by some divine hand. And it's only going to be the straight and narrow from here on out.

Doubtful. But one thing I know for sure now: when in doubt about your life, impose some kind of confinement on yourself, and focus on something that centers and anchors you. Leave those waves alone to wash you clean of good and bad. And just remain solid, pure and unmoving – like the Gibraltar rock. Just cleanse your system and restart. With all the thoughts cleansed, your mind, your heart, the core of your being will be ready to fill up again with new possibilities. And just like that: restart. 

After the smoke starting clearing - above Toronto, ON

The Gift that Kept on Giving

It’s been a while since I have posted an airline blog. Remember, back in the day, I used to be really annoyed (and that is an understatement) by all the tribulations one had to encounter to survive a successful trip by a flying object in this world. And most times, flying is not so much a choice as it is a necessity for me.

But lately, I have grown kind of immune to all the “stuff” (for need to keep it a clean blog) one has to put up in the airline business. Oversold flights still boggle my mind. So does the fact that nowadays every airplane seems to make their own rules about what devices should be turned off and which should be off in a particular lag of any flight. So does the fact that on some planes coke is free, while on others it’s $5, when on others yet it’s non-existent. Not that I drink coke.

And I could go on forever.

But this blog is about my latest experience through the check-in (TSA) line. Lately, my husband and I try very hard to not check luggage at all, especially when we fly on weekend trips. $50 to check a suitcase (two ways) is insane. After $1000 or so for the tickets! So, during Thanksgiving, when we went back to Michigan, to visit his family, we took two carry-ons.  

His aunt gave us our Christmas present, all wrapped up prettily in a pink bag. So sweet! The directions were very strict though: we were not to open the gift, nor peek, till Christmas Day. We were to pack it in our carry-on, and put it under our tree when we get home, and wait to open it on Christmas.

You all know me well, and I do peek, however. Usually,  just on principle. But this time, I was afraid to go onboard a plane without knowing what’s in my bag. What if the TSA will have a quiz or something and I fail?! Jail versus upsetting the aunt, temporarily?! I love his sweet and well meaning aunt, but … I love my freedom more. Yeah, I sort of peeked.

I felt the package and I knew there was something like a set of mugs or a vase, with a plate inside the pink bag. I didn’t open it though – just felt the items inside the bag through the tissue papers.

So, we’re in the airport, in the TSA scanning line, and one of our bags gets called for thorough checking. I won’t go into the whole detail of how they picked my husband’s bag versus mine first, by mistake. The trouble was with mine! Mine had “the gift”. They finally picked the right one and they searched it item by item. Creeps me out, of course, but it’s the price you pay for your freedom, I guess.

Then, they find the pink bag. The little TSA man says nonchalantly: “Ma’am, I am looking for explosive powder. Or, maybe cocaine. That’s what the scanner picked up! ” Seriously! Smart scanner. NOT! – I think.

Explosives or cocaine?! Little ol’ me?! I am mum! He asks: “Ma’am, this is a gift, isn’t it?! Do you know what’s in it?” – now, WHAT do you think the right answer is here, when the man is trying to find bombs and drugs in your junk?! Anything you say can be and will be held against you – don’t you think?! So, I sort of said: “I think there are mugs maybe with something in them? But no, I didn’t open them”.

He is opening it right in front of me, and adds: “DO you want to know what’s in it?! Some people have no clue!” – well, if you’re gonna send me to jail, please do tell me what’s in it! Sure!

He finally found the compromising substance and it was … hot chocolate mix! The little sweet aunt has given us Christmas mugs with packs of hot chocolate mix in them. So much for no peeking!

He kept a straight face through the whole check, took every single item in my bag apart, and tested the powder (the actual powder, not just swipes from the bag!) for either explosive or cocaine, and of course … it came back with “hot chocolate” – no, I made that part up. It came back “legit”, whatever that means.

I was in luck because: 1.The man was nice and very patient. And  2.He was used to people traveling with unopened Christmas presents on them, carrying all sorts of illegal stuff, that they knew nothing about the insides of. He shared: “Some people try to board these planes with whole sets of steak knives. That’s fun – when I have to tell them: you check your bag, or the knives stay here!”

I tried to offer him to keep my hot chocolate, too, but alas … you can board a plane with that, so I got to still keep my carry-on and my “mystery powder”. I wonder what happens to hot chocolate mix when you mix it in with coke?! And I asked myself if he ever wondered about that?! Hmm …  

Going Home - a Live Blog

“The ache for home lives in all of us, the safe place where we can go as we are and not be questioned.” ( Maya Angelou )

Chronologically, this blog starts at the bottom - with the most recent updates at the top.
For pictures from this trip, please click here. 

April 22, 2012

Finally, home-home. In Utah, that is. The trip back was much longer than the trip there – over 24 hours by a lot. It felt like 100 hours all in all. In Amsterdam, we were delayed by over an hour because one passenger who was coming from Dublin had bought a bottle of Irish scotch in the Dublin Airport and Security would not allow the bottle to enter the plane for the US! This, I find very puzzling, as there are hundreds of stores selling liquids inside of all airports, and one figures that once you cleared security once in your trip, you are good to travel on whatever plane your itinerary entitles you to fly on and that whatever is sold in the airport is safe to fly with onboard. But that would only make sense, right?! While the passenger and the Security disputed the matter, we waited rather anxiously in the crammed “double decker” plane for over an hour.

Once in Chicago, all went well through passport control and customs, but we were once more delayed on our final flight – we waited on the plane after boarding, again, while they fixed a mechanical problem with the plane’s gas tank. I wondered – why boarding the entire flight and the luggage, if you they knew we might not be able to fly?! But then again, what makes sense in the airline business?!

When we finally arrived, delayed as it were, in Salt Lake, we found out that our luggage didn’t make it. We picked it up in Chicago and walked it through customs, but somewhere between the customs’ re-checking belt and our plane for Salt Lake, it was lost. Lovely!

All in all, not a terribly bad trip. No extra nights spent in airports, and no extra vouchers to “use on a later flight”. We made it home, exhausted and happy to wrap ourselves in the familiar once again.

                                                                                   ***

A few notes about Romania on this final entry. Back in 1989, when The Revolution broke out and communism was overturned, foreigners would say that Romanians had forgotten how to smile. Life was so hard and threatened during communism dictatorship that people found no reason to be happy. 23 years later, I have to say, Romanians can’t smile, still!

It is so heartbreaking to see a people so passionate, so eager to live and love and give, be so disappointed, so complacent, so hopeless and saddened. You can see it in their foods (rich and flavorful), in their conversations (always boisterous, lively, loud), in their giving up their own bedrooms to accommodate guests in the best place in the house, how much joie de vivre these people have! And yet everything around them is falling apart, literally and figuratively, plunging them into darkness. The flicker in their eyes almost all gone.

Eavesdropping on random conversations in the street all I heard was “there is no money”, “everything is too expensive”, “these thieves (meaning the government) are making us starve while they’re getting rich”, “I worked again for nothing this month”, “I am swimming in debt”. Every time I go back, I miss my folks, and I desperately want to give them, if I could, a better life. But they are so embittered about it all, they can’t believe a better life is possible. This saddens me.

I wish there is something, anything, I could do, at least for those I love desperately, who feel trapped in that Godforsaken country.

The streets are still broken. The blocks still crumbling. Traffic is still a mess – people paying no attention to rules, and parking on grass, sidewalks, randomly in the middle of an intersection, what have you.

People I know and love still have big hearts and are generous and hard working, but they have no hope.

Although Romania is no Afghanistan, nor Iraq or Israel (that is: there is no war going on and there is somewhat of a feeling of safety while walking about) the distrust and doubt in people’s eyes and attitudes is overwhelming. Everyone is suspicious. We could not take pictures in a public place like the mall, or an opera house or a church. We had our cameras sealed in plastic at a department store, because they would not believe us we didn’t buy them there, once we left the store. You don’t leave your camera, your phone or any other electronic in the park car, for fear the car will be broken into and your equipment stolen.

I loved being back, because it gave me two weeks of being with my family, whom I love and miss every day. If it were not for them, however, I doubt I would ever make this journey again. I had missed the foods and the smell in the air. The smell of spring and the sound of the cuckoos in the crisp morning.

Old friends I thought I had left there were cold, distant, or dodged our get-together entirely, with little to no apologies. Time and distance are definitely taking a toll. Despite the sadness in my heart, I know this is just human nature. Such is life.

It’s sad to come to the realization that the place that formed who I am, the place that schooled and educated me, the place where I grew into a young woman, that prepared me for life, has little to no reason to call me back. I recognize it, but it’s not me anymore. I don’t believe it ever was, really!

Romania is a place I connect with people. The US is a place that I connect with lifestyle. I take bits and pieces from both to make my own world. All in all, is just a matter of where my heart is, to feel “at home”. As long as I have my heart, I am home.

Taking this journey with my husband made a world of difference – there is no one who has their finger on my heart’s pulse like he does. I saw everything through my own eyes and he echoed what I was seeing, reinforcing my feelings, observations, validating my memories. It was an emotionally powerful journey, and if I were to do it again, I’d jump on that Salt Lake to Paris flight tomorrow! Plus, I am already missing my mom’s sarmale, so that would be an even stronger reason to do it.

It’s a good trip to make, sadness and all, to refocus and re-ground once more. It shakes you up to your core and wakes you up! Makes you grateful for what you do have and for having the guts to not look behind when you initially left.  No regrets for me. Only some for those I left behind.

For glimpses of Romania, as our cameras saw it, click here.


April 18, 2012

The back yard of the house I grew up in, in the Northern Carpathians (Bucovina)

Back home to the city. We have been in the mountains for the past two days, visiting friends and family. Everyone we saw was so happy to see us and so friendly and hospitable. We ate more than we should have, but everyone cooked lots for Easter (which lasts for 3 days here), so they were glad to share.

Heating our lunch on a wood stove



My favorite: smoked trout

Aa. got to meet the extended half of my family, and my goddaughter. The weather was not good. Just rain, and cold and fog. Not sure what pictures we have come up with, other than lots around the fire and around the plentiful tables!

It was nice to see everyone, and to get away from the bustle of the city. The mountains were fresh, as always, and quiet. No traffic noise and no stress there. Just peaceful!

We drove back today, through more rain, mud, and fog. Just nasty! We are back in Iasi, where Aa. is recovering from a nasty stomach bug! Yuck! I am proud of him for being healthy all this time, as he definitely is not used to the water nor to the very heavy foods here!

Now, we're on the last days of the visit and the clock is ticking to get our bags packed! Lots of people gave us lots of souvenirs, and such, and we bought a couple of things for some friends back home, and also Aa.'s family. We'll be packing for the next couple of days and saying more goodbyes, here in Iasi. Almost everything we are bringing over is very fragile, so we'll pack for a while trying make sure everything will get across in one piece.

Later in the week, we'll be home bound ... We have had a fantastic time, and I miss my folks already, but ... we both miss home, too, especially our shower and our own bed! Visiting is lovely, but having a home to get back to is the best!

A piece of history: when my relatives poured this (now crumbling) concrete patio, in 1988, they engraved the names of all the children who helped in the pouring. My name and my sister's name are included and still there today.

April 16, 2012

2 years ago today I married the most wonderful man alive. Thank you, babe, for two amazing years of happiness! I am forever grateful to you and forever in love!

Yesterday, it was Easter Sunday here. We had several friends of the family and several relatives stop by to have Easter lunch / brunch/ dinner with us. It was a typical Romanian party, that started at 1 PM and ended at 9 PM. We went through 20+ dishes, several types of drinks, coffee, dessert, and we ended everything with dancing. I am not sure what my very calm and laid back husband thought of it all, but at some point he said he feels like home. That's all I needed to hear!

Today, we're driving to see my relatives in the mountains. It's going to be amazing on so many levels - unique, picturesque, old-timey, confusing (for Aa.), refreshing, eye-opening, emotional (for me) - all in one. "The mountains" are this little village in the Northern part of Romania, where I spent most of my childhood holidays and vacations. Half of my heart is still buried there. I cannot wait to get on the road.

We will visit some monasteries on the way, and a couple of smaller cities. For the most part, we'll enjoy family, friends, their offerings and we'll be translating dirty stories about my sister and I growing up there to Aa.

The postings will probably stop till I get back, as the internet availability there is so very limited. Of course, if I am wrong and it's aplenty, I will post snippets of what's going on.

I'll catch everyone up on what's next when I get back.

A good new week to all!

April 14, 2012

A completely indoor day. Since tonight is Easter for us, we are on a race against time to finish cooking. My folks have been cooking for 3-4 days, and still had 10 more dishes or so finish up, and of course, to decorate the eggs.

Egg decorating is not just child's play here. It's serious, traditional business.

We mostly watched, although we helped some too, with the cleaning and cooking.

At midnight, we will go to the midnight service to welcome Easter. We will return home with burning candles to light candles up around the house. I missed this moment, this day, the most. So glad I am finally here and get to enjoy our traditions and faith.

Love to all who are reading here, in this beautiful day.

Easter eggs, Romanian and dad style ....

April 13, 2012

Writing from 'Casa Vanatorului' Restaurant in Iasi

We slept in today. We ate breakfast and then visited my university, over 150 years old. Aa. really liked that!

For those of you who went to this university and are reading this - did you know they are renovating the heck out of it ?! The old, beat-up wooden and metal desks are out, replaced with new, light weight, IKEA looking desks and the old, heavy, nasty chalk blackboards are being replaced with light weight white boards. And each amphitheater has its own thermostat, for temperature control. One step closer to the Western world.

We then walked to two historic parks, and we are now having lunch on an outdoor patio in the middle of one of the parks. It's a beautiful spring day with just enough chill in the air to not get us sweaty!

I am posting this from my iPhone, through the free wifi offered by the restaurant/ park.

Aa. at the 'Casa Vanatorului' patio restaurant, enjoying a draft.

April 12, 2012

A typical breakfast at my parents' house: home made smoked meats and fresh cheese. Now, ready for a new day!

****

We had lots of adventures today - went to mom's hospital, built in 1880's, which was a trip back in time; we walked all over town, in neighborhoods I grew up in and have not visited in 20+ years; we visited an old teacher of mine that brought me back to my school days and to a time when America was just a distant and not realistic dream.

But nothing beats the unusual more than what we came home to - this smoked pig tail that my mom is getting ready to put in the sarmale pot, for "extra flavor". Yum?! Not in this shape, at least!

April 10, 2012

It was a day of sightseeing and walking around town, today. We drove all over the place - went to visit a friend's new pet store, full of exotic fish and what not. Then, we went to one of many farmers' markets in town, and Aa. was amazed at how rich it was and how fresh everything smelled and tasted. The one downside of the trip was that in the meat market, we were yelled at to not take pictures. So we had to put the cameras away.

After that, we went to a supermarket, Carrefour, and we just walked about, and bought some bread and beer - you know, the "essentials". There, they took our cameras and sealed them in plastic, just so they'll know we did not steal them from the supermarket (which sold the same cameras we had). The freedom loving American in Aa. really felt violated on this one!

We walked about the neighborhoods I grew up in and we visited the high school I went to. It looks like time never went over anything. Everything still looks the same. Even the potholes in the roads are still in the same spots!

At the market - grains, meats, cheeses, veggies, eggs and herbs.

My only living grandma came to visit after that, and that was the highlight of my day! Such a good feeling to see her, maybe, even, for the last time! Such a gift.

We then helped dad with smoking the meats for Easter. Oh my! So much meat! So much smoke! So much flavor! That was another first for Aa. The very rudimentary smoker dad built himself along with tying the meats together and hanging them on wood sticks inside the barrel filled with smoke was some other kind of trip back in time!

Ready to go in the smoker for round 2 - or as dad says: 'This spells c-h-o-l-e-s-t-e-r-o-l'.

The rest of the day was spent waiting for the meats to cook and watching TV. Just another day in the family.

Yum. Aa. got to experience 'halva' for the first time. So good and absolutely un-find-able anywhere near where we leave.

April 9, 2012

I need to start by saying THANK YOU to all of you who wished me a "happy birthday". WOW! I had no idea I was so popular. And yes, I know, that for the most part, Facebook reminders help, but I am SO grateful that you all took the time to say something on my wall, and/ or give me a call/ email. Since I am in Romania, I got to speak with people that normally can't afford to dial an international number and call me - such a blessing to be able to talk to old friends and all my family everywhere, this time . THANK YOU.

We spent the day at home, and some family visited. We had cake and yes, I blew the candles in one breath. :-) For dinner, dad took us to this fancy restaurant and we had good, traditional Romanian food. The restaurant was at the top floor of a hotel that is in the downtown, in Union Square, one of the most central spots of Iasi - my home town. The view of the whole city was beautiful. We saw the city in the dusk, and then at night and it was just amazing. I showed Aa. my university, my university's library, my old block of flats, where I grew up, the church my sister got married in and the Metropolitan Cathedral - the most important church in our town. We saw all of these from the roof of this hotel, where we had dinner. It was magical!

Now, we came home and my parents - especially my dad - are trying to build the menu for all the meals for the whole week. Oh my God! We are both so full it's not even funny. We can't even think of food, much less of a whole menu. But everything in Romania revolves around food - it's the only way my family knows how to say "I love you".

We eat non stop here. And dad says all the time that we eat nothing and that we hate his food. NOT the case. We have been here for a little bit more than 24 hours and I feel like throwing up already - so uncomfortably full!

That's about all for today. It's been rainy and windy here, but starting tomorrow, the weather is becoming warmer and brighter, so hopefully we'll get out and see more of the city.

We'll keep you posted!

The big three - seven ...



View of Iasi from the Panoramic restaurant, on top of the Unirea (Union) Hotel, in downtown Iasi

April 8, 2012

Iasi - Romania.

We are home. Yes: the wine is sweeter, the tomatoes are juicier, the meat is smokier and the hugs warmer!

Paris was a nightmare. We had over an hour for a layover but we ended up with just barely a bathroom break! The bus that took us to the right terminal was 20 minutes late and then it took forever to drive us ALL around the whole airport to get to the right place. That left us with something like 15 minutes for bathroom and for Alina to buy a COOL watch I have wanted since my last trip through Paris, 3 years ago. Happy birthday to ME!

Bucharest was another nightmare - so hard to navigate. Not a huge airport but not so well marked!

After 30 minutes of delay due to bad weather and the most difficult landing of out lives, we are in Iasi. Hallelujah! The weather here is bitter - wind, rain, snow and temps of 30's! Bbrrrr!

My parents and aunt had a feast (literally) ready for us. About 10 appetizers and three main courses followed by dessert and chased down with scotch, tuica, and dad's own wines ( red and white ). We are so tired and so full we can't breathe. But so happy!!

It's 11 pm here, or 2 pm in Utah and that only means we have been up for 30 hours! Someone needs to turn in!

More on the following days!

Aa. and dad sharing dad's red wine - 2011 was a very good ' demi- sec ' wine year for Romania.

April 7, 2012

First day of the trip - last look at Mount Timpanogos and Utah Valley. En route to Salt Lake City airport and further on to Paris. Beautiful day here.

I am very nervous about our suitcases' weight - we are smack dab at the limit of 50 lbs on each one of them. Hoping for nice folks at the checkin line.

Good bye, Utah, for a bit!

***

Step one of being nervous is over: we had THE nicest man checking our bags. He knew lots about Romania and all the countries around it. Then, he didn't even blink when he read '51 lbs' on the monitor for one of our bags. Sooo grateful for nice people.

We're eating a California Pizza Kichen sandwich outside our gate. All ready for jumping over The Pond.

Mount Timpanogos as seen from I-15 in Utah County: bye-bye, home!

April 6, 2012

It’s that time again. After virtually exactly 3 years, I am headed home. So much has happened in these years: I found the love of my life, I married, I moved across America, I have a new and different and fun job, I have one more nephew. I have grown. And grown gray. And I am just as excited to go back as I was 3 years ago. As I ever am.

I don't have a twitter account and I won't open one. I am more of a keeper of words rather than just ... throwing them out there, into an ever changing medium. *shrug*. I will keep this blog updated with tidbits from this trip. It’s something I have never done before, outside of my trip across America. I will see if technology keeps up with me and if it helps with allowing me updating this blog from just about anywhere. I will post when I get a chance, in between visits with friends and family, and in between planes and car rides. I will use a variety of devices, I am sure, and will see how far an iPhone can really travel – literally and not so much. Sometimes, I won’t have time for more than just a picture, but I hope that it will still tell a tale.

We are leaving tomorrow evening from Salt Lake City, on a direct flight to Paris! This is the first time ever when I fly from my home city directly to Western Europe. So excited to cut that one “American layover” that always has tons of potential for delays, cancellations and what-not’s.

We then have a flight to Bucharest and another one to my home town of Iasi. We should be at my parents’ house sometimes around 12 PM MST on Sunday. All in all, around 18 hours. We will be 9 hours ahead, so if you’re reading from the US – sorry for the oddly timed updates.

That’s it from home.
“See” you all … on the road, or should I say, “in the air”.

Hope I’ll keep it interesting.