My first plane ride was at age 38.
Yes, you read it right. I am now 38 and I just had my first trip outside my country, the farthest distance that I have ever traveled so far, where I have tested my own maximum tolerance of doing nothing for 14 hours but count the number of times the "fasten seat belt" sign lights up and endured staying awake in the entire 11,491 km flight.
It was a grueling flight, at least for a first-timer like me, but it was surely one hell of a ride. With only a $100 bill in my wallet, a DSLR camera suspended on my shoulder, a WiFi-capable phone to communicate to my sister who will pick me up at the airport, and a piece of luggage good enough to survive for a couple of weeks, I finally stepped foot to the land of opportunities. The California summer wind was so inviting that I could feel the dry air and low humidity in the airport welcoming the skin that was only exposed to the sweaty environment all my life.
Ode to a Greenhorn Traveler
All my bags are packed, I'm ready to go. That silly old song.
It's June 11, 2014, and I am making myself my own history. I am flying for the first time ever and I expect to be wide awake for the entire 14 hours flight. It's a little stormy and it's not the best weather I expected to remember experiencing my first plane ride. I waited at the boarding area a little anxiously while watching the glass window panel being slammed with heavy rains and strong winds. I was surprised to see, however, that the country's most famous diva along with his songwriter husband and a TV comedian seemed to be on the same flight as me. It somehow served as a little entertainment to me seeing the other side of the famed belter as she runs around the boarding area chasing her son.
It's been 3 months since MH370 disappeared from the face of the earth 38 minutes after its takeoff from Kuala Lumpur. To date, it has not been found and some 239 souls may have been presumed dead according to the news and nowhere to be seen again. Just gone. It's a little creepy but as I wait at the boarding area, this is what is playing in my mind over and over again. I'm praying hard this will not happen in my flight, or in anyone who will be flying.
My PR102 flight scheduled to leave at 9 pm has not been showing any problems, so far. Everything is happening on the dot. Precise. Punctual. Perfect. I requested to be seated next to a window but I was given an aisle seat. I was joined by an elderly couple who seemed to be friendly, but it's a downside because I wasn't in the mood to be amiable and chatty. Sticking my earphones on my ears was the best solution that I could think of, and somehow it's serving me entertainment when I am in an anxious state like this. I played around with the monitor in front of me looking for good movies to watch, hoping to see Ethan Hawke's "Alive" or Denzel Washington's "Flight" among the choices but it failed my expectation. Instead, I settled with the section that serves as the plane's GPS and read the inflight magazines instead.
Finally, after almost an hour of waiting, holding my breath, and bracing myself for what will happen next, the plane took off at 9:10 PM. And oh, the lights were turned off. Okay, it's protocol. The only illumination that was visible is the "fasten seat belts" signs. But my G-Shock is still lit in the background letting me know that it takes 5 minutes to reach 8,000 feet and the plane starts to level. It continues to soar, however, for another 3 minutes until the altitude shows 16,000 feet. Alas, the lights finally came back to life and everyone started to move around as if they have somewhere else they can go to. The flight attendants began pushing their food carts serving dinner to passengers.
Finally, my turn to be served. The FA on our aisle asked me if I want chicken or beef. Excitedly, I said chicken! She looked at her service trolley and told me she doesn't have chicken anymore. So she gave me beef. I wondered why I had to be asked to choose between the two if she doesn't have the other in the first place. Ahuh, I guessed it. It's protocol. I sipped on the soda she gave me until it's half empty and asked for a refill while she is serving another passenger. Surprisingly, she complied. Oh yes, with a smile. Okay, that might have been... just a protocol.
After 12 more minutes, the monitor is now showing that we are at 30,000 feet.
No Appearance of Disappearance
Okay, it's been 4 hours that we're flying and there's nothing I can see outside but pitch black. And I don't have the slightest idea if we are still on course or if the pilot is already bringing us to the Indian Ocean to beat the record of MH370. But why the Indian Ocean? And why am I thinking about it in the first place? I have to get rid of imagining a plane crash, damn it!
I stood and queued up for the loo although I'm not really feeling the urge to piss. I just wanted to see what's in the box I mistook for a photo booth. I stood inside for a couple of minutes, pretended to flush and washed my hands, and then went out showing off a face like I have felt relief after constricting my bladder for hours.
12 hours more to go. I wonder what I can do to beat my boredom. I have wished I could stick out a kite outside the window or crack a "bomb" joke to the FA or ask for a newspaper on Chinese prints. There's nothing much to do but watch movies from a screen that doesn't meet my resolution standards. The inflight magazines are somehow entertaining but I'm seeing more adverts than real articles to read. I stand up and walk from time to time, trying the other restrooms at the rear end, and stare at people who sleep like babies (man, I wish I can do that). I go back to my seat and watch the tracking monitor again. Finally, it tells me that we have 57 minutes more to go and we're now 414 miles away from LAX at 37,000 feet.
Horrible Landing
It was announced over PA that we were about to land soon and the engines were then switched off. I can feel that we are just gliding in the air and the figures in the altitude are already dropping. People started to pack away, tidying up their tray tables, the ones who had long sound sleep had just freshened up and I felt so much excitement. It sounds surreal but in a few minutes, I'll be in a different country for the first time in my life.
But my exhilaration was a little cut short because of a commotion just within my deck, right across my aisle. An old man, probably in his 80's, fell on the floor gasping for breath. The FA's showed composure and responded hastily. A couple of them attended to the old man as fast as they could while the others tried to reassure everyone that everything is in control. I wanted to enjoy the view outside the window seeing the mountains of California being kissed by the waves from the Pacific Ocean but I couldn't help looking at the old man lying on the floor in rapid breaths. He's turning blue.
One of the FA's rushed to the PA system and called for a doctor on board if there's any. Wait, what? If... there's any? So there isn't any medical personnel on any flight? I gasped for breath and palpitated. Lucky enough, there's one from the Business Class. I heard someone asking the crowd gathered around the old man to make way for the doctor (they shouldn't be in there in the first place, should they?). I couldn't see what's happening but I see the faces of relief from those gathered around the old man. And I heard that he soon started to breathe normally. I started to calm down, too. Kudos to the doctor and the FA's who really did an amazing job. Oh yeah, it ruined my excitement for my first time landing but it was surely an unforgettable one having experienced a life that was saved inside the plane. I hope this doesn't happen every day.
The final descent was finally announced and I soon felt the aircraft tires touching the ground signaling our safe arrival in LAX. I breathed in disbelief, as I see my phone's new real-time at 7:05 PM on the same date June 11, 2014. A jump back in time through the warp zone. I flew for 14 hours yet I am now 2 hours earlier from where I started. Welcome to the USA!
