I got a new sensation, in perfect moments, impossible to refuse....
I keep coming back to blogger, wanting to post but unsure where to begin. I had every intention of chronicling my twenty-four hour journey across the globe because, before I left, it seemed like such a big deal. 24 hours! 4 separate legs! 15,0000 miles! But I didn’t chronicle it, for a number of reasons. First, I had delusions that the coach seating on an international flight would be larger than the coach seating on a domestic flight. I was wrong. I couldn’t even open the laptop enough to type on either of the 8 hour flights. And I had a creeper who insisted on sleeping ON me and thought me rude for waking him so I could vacate my seat in an effort to remove the drool stain from my shoulder. My rules of air travel remain unchanged: If you are a sleeper, take the freaking window seat, you loser. Am I sorry I didn’t upgrade to first class? A little, maybe. It sure would have been nice to have the warm towels and all. I still don’t think it was worth the money, though. And, what the hell, it was only 24 hours of my life. I lived.
Second, and more importantly, I guess I didn’t chronicle the flight, even after the fact, because what seemed like such a big deal back in Baltimore kind of pales in comparison to what you find when you get here. After seeing Palau and being in Palau, the hilarity of a 24-hour flight just seems irrelevant somehow.
The worst thing about the twenty-four hour flight is the level of fatigue you have when you get here. I try to remember what my first impressions were of Palau and they’re just fragments. I remember that the airport was tiny. Not much more than a building. I remember it was raining (this would become a common theme in the days to come). I remember it being really, really dark. I first noticed this while we were pulling in for a landing over the water off the coast of Airai. Dark like I’d never really seen before, even when I was outside the city in East Texas or the desert. Just nothingness. Abyss. (I can also insert here that my fear of flying and, in particular, water landings is all but cured after three take-offs and landings over the Pacific. Now, I find it sort of calming. I will say, though, that I was mildly alarmed by the part where you have to circle in order the make your descent because the piece of land you’re landing on is not big enough. That’s creepy.)
I also remember thinking that we were driving through some suburban neighborhood on the way back to Koror. The road was two laned and scattered with potholes, there were trees everywhere, with tiny houses dotting the road in irregular intervals. Little did I know that this was “town.” Heh. Now, it’s becoming harder and harder to separate what I expected from what I got or mistaken first impressions from current realizations. I guess that’s to be expected.
And now, some pictures:
I guess this would be the "before" picture. Me, prior to cross-the-world travel:
Deserted BWI airport at 4:24 a.m.: (note that this was prior to the arrival of a musical band of missionaries on their way to Honduras. They had pink t-shirts that said, "Jesus te amas". Good to know. They were unphased by notification that Honduras is already largely Christian, Catholic in fact. Their response is that Catholicism is not "the true Lord's Word". Ambiguity in their modifier placement left me to wonder whether they believe Catholics worship a false God or whether they simply take issue with transubstantiation. Fear of being brainwashed, force-fed Kool-Aid and clad in a pink t-shirt prevented me from inquiring further. Now, I'll never know.)
Here's the airport in Hawaii (whatever. I can show as many airport photos as I want!). It's pretty beautiful, as far as airports go:
Apparently, when you're on a plane carrying U.S. Military personnel, it's customary for the Guam fire department to come spray down your plane. Who knew? Here's that:
I'll spare you the inside of the Guam airport. Just this once. Now, I don't have any pictures of my true first impressions of Palau, it having been dark and my having been exhausted. But here is a photo one of my first real views of the islands the following morning:
And finally, here is the sunset that evening. Note that this photo is completely unedited. That's actually what it looks like (if you get too jealous, though, just think of the Betel nut and the TB):
Other highlights include learning how to pronounce the following:
Ngiraikelau
Impressive, huh?
More updates more frequently. I promise!
Second, and more importantly, I guess I didn’t chronicle the flight, even after the fact, because what seemed like such a big deal back in Baltimore kind of pales in comparison to what you find when you get here. After seeing Palau and being in Palau, the hilarity of a 24-hour flight just seems irrelevant somehow.
The worst thing about the twenty-four hour flight is the level of fatigue you have when you get here. I try to remember what my first impressions were of Palau and they’re just fragments. I remember that the airport was tiny. Not much more than a building. I remember it was raining (this would become a common theme in the days to come). I remember it being really, really dark. I first noticed this while we were pulling in for a landing over the water off the coast of Airai. Dark like I’d never really seen before, even when I was outside the city in East Texas or the desert. Just nothingness. Abyss. (I can also insert here that my fear of flying and, in particular, water landings is all but cured after three take-offs and landings over the Pacific. Now, I find it sort of calming. I will say, though, that I was mildly alarmed by the part where you have to circle in order the make your descent because the piece of land you’re landing on is not big enough. That’s creepy.)
I also remember thinking that we were driving through some suburban neighborhood on the way back to Koror. The road was two laned and scattered with potholes, there were trees everywhere, with tiny houses dotting the road in irregular intervals. Little did I know that this was “town.” Heh. Now, it’s becoming harder and harder to separate what I expected from what I got or mistaken first impressions from current realizations. I guess that’s to be expected.
And now, some pictures:
I guess this would be the "before" picture. Me, prior to cross-the-world travel:
Deserted BWI airport at 4:24 a.m.: (note that this was prior to the arrival of a musical band of missionaries on their way to Honduras. They had pink t-shirts that said, "Jesus te amas". Good to know. They were unphased by notification that Honduras is already largely Christian, Catholic in fact. Their response is that Catholicism is not "the true Lord's Word". Ambiguity in their modifier placement left me to wonder whether they believe Catholics worship a false God or whether they simply take issue with transubstantiation. Fear of being brainwashed, force-fed Kool-Aid and clad in a pink t-shirt prevented me from inquiring further. Now, I'll never know.)
Here's the airport in Hawaii (whatever. I can show as many airport photos as I want!). It's pretty beautiful, as far as airports go:
Apparently, when you're on a plane carrying U.S. Military personnel, it's customary for the Guam fire department to come spray down your plane. Who knew? Here's that:
I'll spare you the inside of the Guam airport. Just this once. Now, I don't have any pictures of my true first impressions of Palau, it having been dark and my having been exhausted. But here is a photo one of my first real views of the islands the following morning:
And finally, here is the sunset that evening. Note that this photo is completely unedited. That's actually what it looks like (if you get too jealous, though, just think of the Betel nut and the TB):
Other highlights include learning how to pronounce the following:
Ngiraikelau
Impressive, huh?
More updates more frequently. I promise!
posted by E. at
1:51 PM
1 Comments:
Yea! Finally a word from the lone traveler. Love the tshirt.
MOM
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