Wednesday, June 29, 2016

First Time Flyer....

Sitting in the airport is always enjoyable to me. I love people watching and trying to guess who is going on vacation, returning home after time away, or on just another work trip. I find myself flying often, to visit friends and family in Canada and in the USA. Frequenting busy airports like San Francisco, Denver and of course Vancouver. Peoples stories almost seem predictable, a once a year traveler, monthly traveler, a family away on vacation, of a college student returning home. Recently I was flying home from Entebbe to Addis Ababa after a short visit with my sister, I sat at the gate and watched the other travelers arrive.

·      Two men who looked like they had been lost in Africa as travelers since the early 90’s with their life possessions stuffed into carry on packs. Tanned marked up legs covered in bites exposed as they wore hiking boots with cargo shorts.
·      A family returning home to Asia sat gathered, admiring their African souvenirs.
·      Working professionals away from their home countries carrying out business.
·      Then a flood of 30 men, all wearing matching shirts came in and sat down, scattered into what ever empty seats were left, talking to one another, comparing seat numbers and plane tickets.

Our flight was delayed, and I was sad to have to leave Uganda after my lovely weekend with Kaylin. We all boarded the plane and I got comfortable in my window seat (we all love a good window seat!). Watching the passenger’s board and find there seat a young man sat next to me. Holding his passport and connecting plane ticket he adjusted his blazer and looked around taking it all in. Now for us who have traveled a bit in our time, we are accustomed to finding our seats, glancing at the nearest exit and securing our seatbelt. But this man just sat there looking around. I leaned over and asked if this was his first time flying. And it was! The 30 men who all wore matching shirts were on their way to Dubai to work for two years in the labour market. Abraham was his name, and he was thrilled to be heading to Dubai. Everything to do with air travel was a mystery to him. I gave him the quick run down: how to fasten and undo his seatbelt, where the toilets where and where to find the bag to vomit into if needed. As the plane took off he clutched the armrests and looked with excitement and a bit of terror as the ground fell away. Pointing to lake Victoria, a place he knew so well from the water, saying it looked so different from way up here. Recognizing my highly sought after window seat would be better used by Abraham, we switched places.
We talked for the flight; he asked how the plane was able to fly through the clouds, what happens when it rains and how the pilot can see where to fly at night when it is dark? And me trying to explain the best I can. Explaining the difference in Gas, liquid and solids, how we are able to pass our hand through smoke from a fire, or steam from a boiling pot. It was incredible to be there, sitting beside him, watching him experience flying for the first time. Something I take for granted and has become routine in my life was brought back to the incredible science and feat that it is flying.


My first flight was when I was a few months old, a baby stretched across the lap of my mom as we flew to visit family. At the age of 8 I took a plane by myself to visit family with the help of a flight attendant leading me to the gate. But With Abraham I got to see what it is like to experience flight for the first time. What courage to take a job far away, leave the routine of the known to step onto a cold metal machine that claims to almost never fall from the sky.
As we approached Addis Ababa I asked if I could take a picture of us, the locals are always taking pictures of me, why not turn the tables this time! (yes, you can look up and spot yourself in someone’s camera phone as they attempt to capture a picture of you. You get use to it.) Abraham looked through my passport asking about the stamps and visas that filled the pages, I looked through his passport at the crisp pages ready to be used. All travelers love looking through another traveler’s passport, it tells a story! 
Knowing we were going to start our decent I warned Abraham that there would be turbulence. Explaining the bumps are normal, encouraging him not to worry. He still clutched the armrests with a look of fear and then laughter came across his face. I smiled, watching him understand and experience the end of his first flight. At the end of the flight he thanked me for the company, explanations and help with his first flight. We exchanged numbers and parted ways as we exited. He was off to Dubai; I was back home in Addis.

Taking a step back and experiencing something so normal through someone else’s eyes is a gift, a time to slow down and appreciate what has become routine. I loved my flight back from Entebbe and it’s all thanks to Abraham and his first flight.


1 comment:

  1. Delightful post. Such a gift to one another on your journeys.

    ReplyDelete