The seat belt signs have just turned off and there is a bustle
of people adjusting in their seats. Flight attendants are handing out headphones…
or “headsets” in airline speak. Odd. I’ve just pulled out a cupcake from my
bag, icing all over my fingers, celebrating. This moment marks the official start
to my South East Asian two-month adventure. A little over an hour ago, however,
I wasn’t so sure I’d be sitting here.
For those of you who may not know, I am going to Bali and
surrounding areas for the next two months. Originally sent for a workshop and
conference, I decided to extend my stay and rent by the beach to write my
literature review and proposal for my thesis while learning to surf / yoga on
the side. Sounds like a dream doesn’t it…. Maybe it will be, maybe it won’t.
Time will tell. But, at the moment, I’m in love with the idea. Over that time I
will be visiting New Zealand, and other countries in South East Asia… the
specifics are yet to be determined. I will try to blog regularly for those
who’d love to follow along!
So, it’s my birthday today. Unlike for some, my birthday is pretty
sacred to me. It’s the one-day of the year I always take off, do only what I
want and EAT! What I want to eat!! This usually implies starting my day with a
piece of birthday cake. Today I started with cupcakes, a turkey sandwich and a
free birthday latte from Starbucks… not bad J I can admit I’m not thrilled at the idea that I’ll
be spending the next 15 hours cramped up in an airplane, and I’m still
perplexed on how exactly I can make this sedentary journey feel like a
celebration… but I’m grateful to have such an amazing opportunity.
Birthdays feel special, I always finding myself expecting
magical things to happen on my birthday. This probably explains why, every
year, I usually end up feeling slight depressed as late afternoon hits. Magic,
so rarely surfaces in day-to-day life. Today, I can’t say what power my
birthday has brought with it – perhaps it is the magic I’m always looking for…
or the contrary, bad luck.
With a flight at 10am, and pickup for 730, I got up extra
early this morning as I had much to do. I have someone staying at my place
while I’m gone, so had change my bed, clean, etc. As time got close to 730, I
had yet to hear from my colleague. I texted him at 7:15 and received no
response. “He must be in the washroom or something” I thought to myself. I kept
prepping to go, when it was not 10 minutes later, two more attempted phone
calls, and nothing. I figured, ok, maybe his phone is on silent and he just
forgot to tell me he was on his way. But… 7:30 arrived. No word. No taxi. I’m
usually late, so was thankful he was “still in transit” to my place and decided
to make a sandwich. I kept trying to call him, until 745 hit. At this point, it
was clear - he was probably still sleeping. I called my own taxi. I put my new
backpack on and without knowing leaned back into a nail…ripping a hole into the
front of the bag. Ugh.
I tried to call my colleague repeatedly en route to the
airport, but still no answer. What do you do in these situations? Just let them
sleep? Call someone near them to go wake them? I finally heard from him around
8am… turns out I was right, he had slept in.
Still en route, it was now almost 830 but with the
reassurance of the cab driver I’d was calmed thinking I had enough time. Soon
enough, we started pulling into the Pearson airport vicinity… and travelling
through the twisted maze highways between terminals.
Suddenly, we were maybe 2 minutes from my gate, and taxi
driver pulled over on the side of the highway! “Not now” he said. Huh?
Perplexed as to why… looking at my clock… it didn’t seem to be a mechanic
failure of the taxi. He said “turn around.” The red flashing lights said it
all. We were being pulled over for a speeding ticket. Ugh. The taxi driver, a
sweet Somalian man, said – just tell him you’re running late for your flight,
with a chuckle, and we’ll see what we can do.
The cop came over. The driver had rolled down both of
windows so I could talk to him. I explained, with a smile (trying to be as
pleasant as possible) that I am late for a flight and we were rushing. The
police man, evidently having a rough day as he yelled “slow the fuck down” to
every car that passed as we talked, grumbled and took the taxi driver’s papers.
He returned minutes later, and with rage told the driver he was probably the
luckiest he’d ever be and if he ever caught him speeding again he’d book him
for everything he got. Interesting juxtaposition - a kind mad man. We drove off
and the taxi driver, with a smile, thanked me for helping out and said “You
know? People with a good heart… good things will always come.”
We arrived 1 minute later to my gate. I handed him my credit
card, but the swipe didn’t work. Ugh. Interact it is.
Bags unloaded, I walked to the ticket counter. Finally, I
thought – things will get easier.
I arrive at the ticket desk, hand my passport over. She
begins preparing my ticket. I watch the weight gauge with apprehension.
Noticing I have 3 lbs to spare, I sneak a few books into the bag while she’s not
looking. Phew! I think to myself. This is easier now than anticipated. She
prints out my boarding ticket. Simple I think. But… as she’s handing it to me,
she asks me about the visa – says I don’t have one and that I’m staying past
the allotted time period allowed. I explained to her, that I planned to either
a) extend in country or b) fly out at the 30-day time limit and return. My
tickets in her hand, she continues to look at her screen. She says she has to
check with her supervisor about the logistics of the visa, as according to
their system they can’t let me fly unless they have proof I’m leaving the
country within the visa time limit. I explained I’d called the embassy of
Indonesia, and that there were no issues… but she insisted she had to verify
with her supervisor.
And so I waited. And waited. Time… ticking. It’s 845…
boarding time is at 9. Her supervisor comes over, looks at the system. He looks
at me and says “Mam, unless you can show me proof that you’re leaving in 30
days I can’t let you board that plane.” I explained to him my intent and
described the research I had done, but no luck. It was black and white… proof =
you fly, no proof = you don’t.
He left, and it was just me and the lady at the ticket desk.
She explained unless I could provide her with proof in the next 15 minutes that
I would be leaving within the 30 days, they couldn’t let me fly. Seriously?
So, I was faced with a choice. Miss my flight altogether and
try and rebook? With rebooking btw would be a nightmare… or! Book a flight
somewhere within the 30 days. Given I wanted to go to New Zealand and visit a
professor friend of mine while away, I decided well now or never… I guess I’ll
book my flight to New Zealand now. I plunked my backpack down beside the ticket
desks… pulled out my laptop and connected to the Wi-Fi. Looked up my flight…
compared a couple dates… time was ticking. I was about to book when she came
over… asked me where I was booking… I said New Zealand. She asked about my stop
over.. I said it was in Sydney. She said to wait as she wasn’t sure about
Visas. Seriously?! I thought. I’m pretty sure there aren’t visa issues with
either country… but I had to wait. I decided to look it up in the meantime and
determined we would be ok. I walked over to her, laptop in hand, explained the
visa situation and showed her the site I was booking on.
I literally booked the flight in front of her, 1200$ flight
in seconds out of the blue… for 10 days. The reservation confirmation came up.
Sigh… relief it went through and we could continue. I pointed out to her the
details, and searching through she was looking for the “ticket number.” She
scanned the webpage, and then the confirmation email they sent… and said “there
is no ticket number, I can’t accept this.”
I’m now thinking… I’ve just bought this $1200 flight, in
front of you, without really even having a chance to plan anything… you’ve
watched it processing and you’re saying it’s not proof I’m leaving the country
in 30 days? Ugh.
She calls over another nearby supervisor. It’s now 9am, the
cut off, for being able to let me through to board the plane. He comes over,
she explains, and he says “if another supervisor is helping you – you have to talk
to him, not me.” I pleaded for his help as I was going to miss my flight if he
didn’t help. He responded with a flick of the hand and walked away. Grrrr.
It’s mere minutes now before I am not allowed entry. My
colleague is beside patiently waiting… Another family is circulating another
desk, in tears, as they’ve been denied entry to their flight to St. Lucia. “Is
this a foreshadow?” I think.
The other man comes over, the one we were dealing with in
the beginning. I had hope, but minimal. He seemed pretty “by the book” in our
first encounter. We both explained the update to the situation. He looked at
the email and responded “If there is no ticket number, I can’t let you board.”
I explained further about my contact with the embassy, about how the ticket
counter lady and I had booked the ticket together. No use. I explained I’d also
looked into what happens if you stay past the deadline of the visa, and told
him the daily fine. Suddenly, he changed. “Oh! …you’ve been there before?” I
said “No, I contacted the embassy here in Toronto and spoke with them and that’s
what they said.” He looked at my email again. I could tell he was starting to soften.
I explained… I don’t think there is any way better to demonstrate my intentions
than the fact I have just purchased a ticket within the last 10 minutes with this
lady here at the ticket counter and spent $1200 to show I plan to leave in 30
days. He hesitated, talked quietly to the her, and said “You know, if it comes
back on us… Air Canada is sued $10 000 and it comes back to me” …then he
jokingly said, “Ahhh, I would kind of like to be fired after 23 years at this
job.” He let out a small smurk. At that moment, the lady returned to her
computer, told me to put my backpack in the tray, gave me the tickets, and said
“Have a good flight.”
9:15 and I’d been just granted access to the gate. Wow.
There wasn’t even time to process what had just happened.
We rushed to security… 9:20. Both of my colleague’s bags got
checked. Mine, fortunately, came through no questions. We rushed to our gate,
and got there with 30 minutes to spare. To my surprise, this was enough time to
swing a birthday latte from Starbucks, a bathroom trip, an awesome birthday
phone call from my brother, and a slowly moving line to the plane. I got my
seat and sat down with plenty time to spare.
It’s now almost 3 hours later. The lights in the cabin oddly
keep cycling through a rainbow of colours?! One minute the cabin is blue and
the next it’s red… green. Odd. I’m puzzled as to what exactly is the purpose.
keep thinking about this morning. Wow. I can’t believe the sequence of events
to get here. Hoping it’s not a bad omen for what is to come.
I’ve had a couple sangrias since – that’s helped. Making
them here myself – although ordering an orange juice, wine, and club soda all
in one sitting gets strange looks from the flight attendants. Ah well. It’s
worth it. I have another cupcake waiting for later in the flight. I have a
solemn Chinese man sitting beside me. I’ve added “trying to make him smile” to
my list of to-do’s for this flight. So far, I’ve managed to squeeze a couple.
My request to meet the pilot for my birthday was probably what struck the
biggest reaction.
Ok, I’m signing off. Jakarta in T minus… you know, I don’t
even want to calculate the hours remaining.
Stay tuned!
