Note to reader: my mother would like to clarify that in addition to “interrogating” me (which occurred in the last section of this story), my parents also gave me the miles to fly to Thailand. This is true. I have very good parents. Fabulous, in fact. Not to be vilified with “interrogations” in my story.
As the trip got nearer and nearer, the emails got shorter and more logistic. Thursday night before I left, I had a minor anxiety attack having neither spoken to Burma Boy nor received an email from him in a few days. I was literally flying half way around the world and I didn’t know where I was supposed to meet this person. That I had met once. For 12 hours. I didn’t even have a phone number for him. Mix all that up in a cocktail in my head and what do you get? PAAAAAAAAANIC!!! I got very little sleep that night as I stared at my ceiling wondering if I was making a HUGE mistake.
Thankfully, I awoke on Friday morning to an email with instructions as to exactly where in the Bangkok airport I was supposed to meet Burma Boy. The unknown became known and my anxiety subsided. I printed out the email, tucked it safely in my backpack, and headed out to take the subway to JFK. That plan was quickly averted after waiting 15 minutes for the A train and realizing that if there was any sort of issue at all, I was going to miss my flight. So I coughed up 45 bucks and hopped in a cab to the international terminal.
When I boarded my flight to Tokyo, it appeared that I was interrupting an Asian Dental convention. Every single Asian on board was wearing a medical mask to ward off SARS. Although I knew from my extensive research that this did absolutely nothing in helping to prevent transmission of the disease, I wished that I’d packed a few of the dental masks that my father had given me from his supply (see?!?!? Miles and dental masks!!! FABULOUS PARENTS!!) .
When I got to my row, I was elated to find that I had the entire three seats to myself. I set up camp, and attempted to sleep. I had tried to plan everything out perfectly. My flight departed at 1 PM, which was 2 AM in Thailand, so I took 2 Benadryl (sadly, this was pre-days of Ambien) immediately in hopes that I could somehow get myself on the time schedule I was going to have for the next 10 days. I dosed on and off for a few hours. But I would hardly call what I did sleeping. I didn’t eat much on the plane. They clearly catered to their Asian passengers. And Asian airplane food?? Not so much. I watched a few movies, started a book and tried to keep my mind off the fact that I barely knew the boy I was going to see.
We landed in Tokyo 14 hours later. I was now in Asia. As I got off the plane, it hit me that I had officially lost my mind. Those initial moments in the Tokyo airport were some of the loneliest moments I can remember ever having in my life. Everything around me was foreign. Nothing was familiar – not the sounds I heard, not the language being spoken, or the smells of the airport food. I had never been to a foreign country that didn’t speak English. Now I was receiving a harsh crash course in being foreign in a foreign land. I felt foreign. But it wasn’t just that. I think that if I’d been intending to travel on my own, I would have had a bigger sense of adventure at this point. Or if I’d known the person that I was meeting on the other end. But it was hitting me and it was hitting me hard that I had no idea what I had gotten myself into.
I had been hoping to get some sushi in the airport, but instead there was only fast food - Japanese style. I stood staring at the menu of gibberish and found myself with a newfound respect for all the foreigners who make their way through the United States on a daily basis without understanding a word of English. Welcome to the real world Michelle. I ordered shu-mai and water. I thought I was ordering shrimp. I can say with complete certainty that what I ate was most definitely NOT shrimp. But I was famished and I didn’t have a whole lot of choice. I forced myself to forget about the fact that I didn’t know exactly what I was putting in my mouth and I just ate. The noodle wrapped dumplings looked familiar enough – even if the taste wasn’t.
After “dinner” (or whatever meal I was eating – I had no idea what time it was,) I went to the bathroom. I washed my face. I washed my face again. I stared at myself in the mirror trying to wake myself up, trying to convince myself that making this trip was NOT the most moronic thing I had ever done in my entire life, trying to tell myself that this was the adventure I had asked for, the adventure I had been waiting for. I was unsuccessful on all accounts.
I walked back to my gate and waited. I listened to the sounds of mothers soothing crying babies. I listened to the sound of flights being called for final departure. I listened for anything that sounded remotely familiar. I listened for comfort.
When we finally boarded the plane for Thailand, I collapsed into my seat with exhaustion. I had already been flying for 14 hours. But the 3 hour plane ride to Bangkok felt far longer than the 14 hour ride to Tokyo had been. I tried to sleep, I tried to read, I tried to write in my journal, but my nerves had completely taken over my body. I think the closest thing I came to doing was throwing up. Thankfully, I managed not to.
When the plane finally landed, and I stood up, I was shaking from head to toe. Like, visibly shaking. I fished the email out of my back pack and began my descent to the “big hall,” as Burma Boy had described the place I was to meet him. It was the longest walk of my life. I followed the instructions that had been given to me and I kept reminding myself not to have expectations, to be open minded, that no matter what happened, even if I ended up being by myself for some reason, I was going to be just fine. I told myself this over and over. I did not believe it, but I kept repeating the words. As I walked through the hall full of foreigners, my eyes peeled the crowd for the boy I’d met a month and a half ago for a single night. I felt like I was 8 again, a child separated from their parent hoping, praying that they’ll find a friendly face in a sea of unfamiliar. The movie in my mind was in slow motion, following my every glance. I could hear my heart pounding in my head.
Posted byMeesh-elle my Belle
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10 Days in Burma,
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yeah...i'm a little bit crazy
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ahh!
need next installment stat!
this is a great description of flying across the GLOBE-- which i have now done two separate times, at very different stages in my life (aka once in college to australia and once this year to the philippines!)-- either way, you literally enter a time and place that is so inbetween-- a world that is neither here nor there, suspended, between datelines and timezones and countries and languages and airwaves-- i mean, the air isn't even real-- so strange. anyway... just thought i would comment-- i am finally catching up on your blog today ;)