Here is the basic schedule of getting to Louisiana. Keep in mind I'm beginning with Beijing time (13 hours ahead of Louisiana).
Monday May 4th:
6:00 a.m.: Leave my apartment
6:15 a.m.: Subway to airport
7:00 a.m. Arrive at airport and pray I've exited to the right terminal. Wander aimlessly looking for the American Airlines check-in point.
7:15 a.m.: Find check-in. Six lanes open. About 100 people in line.
7:15 a.m.- 9:00 a.m. - Let everyone know I've made it to the airport and I'm slowly, but surely on my way. Have a nice conversation with a girl and mother. The mother is from China but has lived in California for 30-something years and her daughter lives in Boston and they'd been visiting family together.
9:15 a.m. - Grab a coffee at Costa and a delcious-ass blueberry muffin. Yes, it was that delicious.
10:00 a.m. - Head to my gate and charge up my laptop until boarding.
10:30 a.m. - Board, score an aisle seat, meet Mr. Billy (see previous blog), prepare myself for the next 11 hours.
11:05 a.m. - Take off! America, here I come!
.................................................
12 hours later...
11:20 a.m. in Chicago, Illinois - Plane lands.
I haven't slept a wink, but the flight went surprisingly fast. I watched movies, read, wrote and created a powerpoint.
9:15 a.m. - Grab a coffee at Costa and a delcious-ass blueberry muffin. Yes, it was that delicious.
10:00 a.m. - Head to my gate and charge up my laptop until boarding.
10:30 a.m. - Board, score an aisle seat, meet Mr. Billy (see previous blog), prepare myself for the next 11 hours.
11:05 a.m. - Take off! America, here I come!
.................................................
12 hours later...
11:20 a.m. in Chicago, Illinois - Plane lands.
I haven't slept a wink, but the flight went surprisingly fast. I watched movies, read, wrote and created a powerpoint.
From the moment I stepped off the plane in Chicago I freaked. I don't know if it was the lack of sleep, normal stupidity or just nerves. From Chicago I was flying into New Orleans where my best friends Jeff and Brandi would pick me up and house me for a few days. I told Jeff I'd find the first person I saw in Chicago and borrow their phone to tell him I'd landed and keep him posted on the flight schedule. (I no longer have an American phone at this point).
Coming abroad the next step is customs. You must check-in, claim your luggage then re-check your bag. My game plan in airports is always to follow the crowd.
Unfortunately, I lost the crowd along the way...
The first thing I see is a dozen non-Chinese people in airport uniforms. There are a plethora of foreigners in Beijing, it's just that riding the subway daily, the people in uniform are Chinese. Secondly, I walk past a row of water fountains. Like what? (In China, only bottled-water is drinkable) Thirdly, when I make it to the check-in point I lose all motor skills for 2.5 minutes. An attendant reluctantly helps me check in for my connecting flight.
Next, I stroll through to the baggage claim area. I come to a halt. An employee asks me, "are you lost?" I responded, "No, I just needed a moment to gather my thoughts."
Two minutes later, after having not moved since she approached me, I turned to her and said, "I'm lost as #&*@. I don't know where to go. Why are those people in a line? Am I speaking English right now?"
She laughed and said, "Yes, and we all are. You need to get your bag, right?"
I nodded yes, but then point to all the people standing in a long line who have already claimed their bags and say, "But where are they going?"
She tells me to grab my bag and then I'll go re-check it through the line they're in.
Well, of course, by the time my bag comes through the line is gone and I'm afraid I'll never get where I'm going.
I spot a man from Mr. Billy's band and follow him to throw my bag on, but not before going through the customs line where a TSA guy was harassing a Chinese couple about having only a carry-on between the two of them. I tried to explain to him, with my broken Chinese, that they are staying with friends and have a lot of money to spend and planned to buy everything there. At this point I'm just irate.
Finally, my bag is sent back to hopefully a plane going to New Orleans and I set off to find a phone to call Jeff. Of course, I'm freaked at this point and lost all my obnoxiously friendly social skills and resorted to buying a coke and getting a dollar worth of quarters to use the pay phone. I call Jeff and he doesn't answer. I leave him a frantic voicemail that went something like this: "Hey I'm here. I'm freaking out. Everyone is mean. There are white and black people everywhere. But at least there are cute boys. My flight is on schedule. Can you call me back? Well I guess you can't. I'll call you back."
After realizing it takes a whole $1.00 to make a call I return to the Hudson and get several more dollars worth of quarters. I try Brandi and she doesn't answer either. But without fail, my mom answers and I assure her I'm ok and a bit freaked and will call her when Jeff and Brandi retrieve me from NOLA airport.
At this point I am coming around and I have about three hours to kill. When charging my phone I met a super nice guy from The Republic of Congo who is doing his residency in Minnesota. Bless his heart, ha. Then a lady from Mexico City on her lunch break joined in out conversation and it turns out her brother lives in Shanghai.
I split ways with them and headed toward my gate to grab a glass of wine at a bar, where I almost forgot to tip the bartender. I was able to call Jeff back and he laughed at me saying when he got my voicemail he imagined me curled up, knees to my chest, in a corner having a breakdown. Which, wasn't too far off, ha.
When it came time to board the flight, that two-hour flight felt like 30 minutes. As soon as we were up, we were back down again. Finally, Louisiana! I could see the swamps from the sky. I practically ran from the terminal. I told Jeff not to pick me up without a sign or something awesome so I was walking around with my iPhone video open. I'm there 15 minutes and seeing no one. I walk outside hoping to see their car and praying they're not late because I've just had the longest possible day and want nothing more than to see their faces.
To my left, across the street I can see a guy, very closely resembling Jeff, taking pictures. There is a concrete column blocking whatever he is photographing, but I'm almost certain it's Brandi with a poster. I keep looking around and when my eyes wonder back to that guy, I see five women come out from behind the column: My mom, her best friend, and three of my best friends. I guess that guy was Jeff, and he brought more than signs to the airport.
They can't see me and I go to run across the road and nearly get hit by a taxi van. I'm waving my hands and yelling like a loon making my way over saying, "I'm over here. Hey! Hey!" When they finally see me, I dropped my suitcase and ran into my mama, tears streaming down my face.
I was so completely surprised to see them all and after the day I'd had, I've never been so grateful for all the love I receive from the people in my life.
I'm in shock and we get in the car and head to dinner. My only request was Louisiana food. At this point I can't believe I'm with so many of my favorite people, ragging the way I talk now, eating gumbo and sitting in Louisiana.
Unfortunately the girls, except my cousin had to return back to my hometown. Ten months of not seeing my mom, I can't believe she was actually able to leave. I also can't believe we didn't cry more.
So, I'm spending the next two days in New Orleans with Jeff, Brandi and Britney. I'm a tourist in my own state and I'm thrilled about it.
I'll save New Orleans for a blog in itself.
Coming abroad the next step is customs. You must check-in, claim your luggage then re-check your bag. My game plan in airports is always to follow the crowd.
Unfortunately, I lost the crowd along the way...
The first thing I see is a dozen non-Chinese people in airport uniforms. There are a plethora of foreigners in Beijing, it's just that riding the subway daily, the people in uniform are Chinese. Secondly, I walk past a row of water fountains. Like what? (In China, only bottled-water is drinkable) Thirdly, when I make it to the check-in point I lose all motor skills for 2.5 minutes. An attendant reluctantly helps me check in for my connecting flight.
Next, I stroll through to the baggage claim area. I come to a halt. An employee asks me, "are you lost?" I responded, "No, I just needed a moment to gather my thoughts."
Two minutes later, after having not moved since she approached me, I turned to her and said, "I'm lost as #&*@. I don't know where to go. Why are those people in a line? Am I speaking English right now?"
She laughed and said, "Yes, and we all are. You need to get your bag, right?"
I nodded yes, but then point to all the people standing in a long line who have already claimed their bags and say, "But where are they going?"
She tells me to grab my bag and then I'll go re-check it through the line they're in.
Well, of course, by the time my bag comes through the line is gone and I'm afraid I'll never get where I'm going.
I spot a man from Mr. Billy's band and follow him to throw my bag on, but not before going through the customs line where a TSA guy was harassing a Chinese couple about having only a carry-on between the two of them. I tried to explain to him, with my broken Chinese, that they are staying with friends and have a lot of money to spend and planned to buy everything there. At this point I'm just irate.
Finally, my bag is sent back to hopefully a plane going to New Orleans and I set off to find a phone to call Jeff. Of course, I'm freaked at this point and lost all my obnoxiously friendly social skills and resorted to buying a coke and getting a dollar worth of quarters to use the pay phone. I call Jeff and he doesn't answer. I leave him a frantic voicemail that went something like this: "Hey I'm here. I'm freaking out. Everyone is mean. There are white and black people everywhere. But at least there are cute boys. My flight is on schedule. Can you call me back? Well I guess you can't. I'll call you back."
After realizing it takes a whole $1.00 to make a call I return to the Hudson and get several more dollars worth of quarters. I try Brandi and she doesn't answer either. But without fail, my mom answers and I assure her I'm ok and a bit freaked and will call her when Jeff and Brandi retrieve me from NOLA airport.
At this point I am coming around and I have about three hours to kill. When charging my phone I met a super nice guy from The Republic of Congo who is doing his residency in Minnesota. Bless his heart, ha. Then a lady from Mexico City on her lunch break joined in out conversation and it turns out her brother lives in Shanghai.
I split ways with them and headed toward my gate to grab a glass of wine at a bar, where I almost forgot to tip the bartender. I was able to call Jeff back and he laughed at me saying when he got my voicemail he imagined me curled up, knees to my chest, in a corner having a breakdown. Which, wasn't too far off, ha.
When it came time to board the flight, that two-hour flight felt like 30 minutes. As soon as we were up, we were back down again. Finally, Louisiana! I could see the swamps from the sky. I practically ran from the terminal. I told Jeff not to pick me up without a sign or something awesome so I was walking around with my iPhone video open. I'm there 15 minutes and seeing no one. I walk outside hoping to see their car and praying they're not late because I've just had the longest possible day and want nothing more than to see their faces.
To my left, across the street I can see a guy, very closely resembling Jeff, taking pictures. There is a concrete column blocking whatever he is photographing, but I'm almost certain it's Brandi with a poster. I keep looking around and when my eyes wonder back to that guy, I see five women come out from behind the column: My mom, her best friend, and three of my best friends. I guess that guy was Jeff, and he brought more than signs to the airport.
They can't see me and I go to run across the road and nearly get hit by a taxi van. I'm waving my hands and yelling like a loon making my way over saying, "I'm over here. Hey! Hey!" When they finally see me, I dropped my suitcase and ran into my mama, tears streaming down my face.
I was so completely surprised to see them all and after the day I'd had, I've never been so grateful for all the love I receive from the people in my life.
I'm in shock and we get in the car and head to dinner. My only request was Louisiana food. At this point I can't believe I'm with so many of my favorite people, ragging the way I talk now, eating gumbo and sitting in Louisiana.
Unfortunately the girls, except my cousin had to return back to my hometown. Ten months of not seeing my mom, I can't believe she was actually able to leave. I also can't believe we didn't cry more.
So, I'm spending the next two days in New Orleans with Jeff, Brandi and Britney. I'm a tourist in my own state and I'm thrilled about it.
I'll save New Orleans for a blog in itself.
 |
| Emily, my adopt little sister and the brains behind all my hashtags :) |
 |
| My cousin/bestie, Britney! :) |
 |
| The couple I owe my life to: Jeff & B :) |
 |
| Never too old to cry when you see your mama! <3 :) |
 |
| This is what was going on behind that concrete column :) |
 |
| Home Sweet Home |
 |
| I think this is Ponchartrain, but I don't know :) |
No comments:
Post a Comment