Writing

Airport Talk- Boarding the Plane

Welcome to a new series of posts I have been working on: Airport Talk. I’ve traveled enough to have accumulated stories and insight into everything air-travel. Each post will have a different theme… to kick us off, let’s talk about boarding the plane.

Nine out of ten times I ignore my boarding group number on my boarding pass. I’m no fool– if I wait to board with my zone I’ll have to plane-side check my luggage. You all know the experience of plane-side checking…

You exit the plane only to have to stop and wait on the, either too hot or too cold, jetbridge. You see bag after bag being hurled up into the narrow jetbridge, but not yours. People continue to de-board the plane and pass you. This makes you angry because you hate waiting for things– especially when others don’t have to wait. Soon nearly everyone has left the jetbridge and finally your bag is thrown onto the floor in front of you. You grab it and exit the jetbridge in a significantly worse mood than you were in 5 minutes ago. ‘Wait that was only 5 minutes of waiting? Wow, those 5 minutes felt like forever.’ 

So anyways, back to boarding…not everyone can get away with boarding earlier than their group. I have seen people try and fail in an embarrassing fashion. Luckily no one ever questions me.

On my last trip I was assigned to Zone 4, which I didn’t understand because I had a window seat. The attendants were offering to check bags to our final destinations for no charge. I wasn’t in a rush so I volunteered to do so. As I was sitting at my gate the attendants started to call for boarding… this is how it went: “All Platinum Elite Ruby Members may now board. Gold Advanced Participants may now board. First class and all military personal in uniform may now board.” First class is the third group to board!? Hmm. These different ‘elite’ groups were too ridiculous to be real. I decided to wait and board with my zone for the first time ever. “All Silver Visa Reward Member Card Holders may now board. Anyone who paid for preferred access may now board.” By the time they got to Zone 1, there were five of us left. At least I wasn’t the scrub in Zone 5, right? As the attendant scanned my pass and I entered the jetbridge, I was thinking about how great it was to be the last person to board.

-I didn’t have to sit on the hot plane waiting for the entirety of the passengers to board.

-I didn’t have to wait anxiously for the rest of my row to show up, silently dying every time a smelly ungroomed person approached the row.

-And the best part: those fancy people who boarded before me with their Platinum Access Elite bullshit would have to move for ME… they would have to move for little ol’ Zone 4 me as I make my way into my window seat, (with a smirk on my face).

So all of this was going through my head as I turned onto the plane and scanned anxiously to see who was about to be really annoyed with my existence. I was hoping it would be some too-big-for-his-britches businessman who thinks he is better than the rest of us but is really just as scrubby as the poor Zone 5 guy. I reach row 15 and look at the occupants of the middle and aisle seats… two of the most brittle looking old ladies I have ever seen. As they look up at me, they realized they had to get up in order for me to pass. They didn’t say anything, but from the look in their eyes I could tell my existence didn’t annoy them… it broke their barely beating hearts. Well, I felt like an a**hole.

I’ll probably stick to my routine of sneaking on the plane early from now on.

“Adventure is just a perspective”

Two months ago I was crossing Europe’s largest continental glacier… a lot has changed since then. The only thing I am crossing is the North Beach Pool bridge, as I walk the length of the pool yelling for Makos to “kick! kick! kick!”

 

I’ve had trouble adjusting to my seemingly adventure-less RVA suburbia life. I’ll periodically scroll through my posts and watch the adventure level dwindle away as my most recent posts appear. As I was deciding whether or not to post about my coaching job, I was told that:  “adventure is just a perspective.”

I was then prompted to look up the definition of ‘adventure’ on dictionary.com


Ad·ven·ture [ad-ven-cher]

verb

¹An exciting or very unusual experience

²Participation in exciting undertakings or enterprises


So, I began thinking of my swim coaching job as an adventure. Coaching a summer swim team is definitely an ‘exciting undertaking.’ As coaches, we invest time and energy into the team, and in return a passion grows within us. That passion makes things that might seem ordinary to some, very exciting. Whether it’s watching an angel shark blow their bubbles, or cheering on the neck-to-neck relays at 10:00pm every Tuesday night, it’s exciting.

Unusual. Most might ask: ‘what is unusual about being a swim coach?’ Well my response to that would be: when there are kids involved… it’s most likely unusual. Kids have an innate tendency to be brutally honest, inspiringly imaginative, and cheerfully silly. There are so many moments when I am left thinking: ‘How am I supposed to answer a question like that?’ Or: ‘How does their mind come up with that sort of thing?’ And not to mention: “What on Earth is that kid talking about?!” A fellow coach of mine, Elena, and I have an ongoing discussion about how excited kids get over the smallest things. We try to do the same– jumping up and down, and exclaiming our joy over minuscule things such as a new straw color at Starbucks… it just doesn’t work as well for us. Unfortunately people grow out of those traits I mentioned before, more often than not. But that’s a whole different topic– let’s save it for another day.

I know calling my everyday job ‘an adventure’ might be a stretch– especially compared to survival trips and foreign city exploring– but if there’s one thing I’ve recently realized*, it’s this:

Life itself is one large unknown, and it doesn’t get any more adventurous than that. 

So despite my current (and TEMPORARY) mountain-less, tent-less, non-risky, travel-free life… with the right attitude, it can still be exciting!

*Disclaimer: ‘Realized’ might be a tiny exaggeration… I still haven’t fully kicked the travel-blues. Tips?

Valentines Day Will Forever be The Worst Day

Grace, (my partner in crime,) and I have always hated Valentines Day. In fact, we typically loathe the month of February in general. Each month in the year has something going for it– but February always comes up short, (and I mean, even on leap years.) Of course, I always loved making dozens of homemade Valentines Day cards, because that is right up my crafty alley. But as the holiday began to take on more than candy and crafts the joys soon wore off. As Grace puts it, (after some wise censoring,) “this day of hellacious splendor makes me want to fight bunnies.” So maybe that’s a little dramatic, but we have never been the ‘let’s cuddle and love each other’ kind of people. So a day solely dedicated to openly showing your love and affection for people is basically our worst nightmare.

So this year, Valentine’s Day lived up to my expectations, meaning it was horrible. Wait, let’s not get ahead of myself– this post is actually supposed to be a trip recap, so I feel obligated to mention my 3 day ski/ avalanche training trip. But… I don’t really feel like it. We skied, it was fun, and I’d rather just rant about V-Day.

I was phone-less and watch-less yesterday (because my watch broke) so I didn’t realize it was February 14th right away. It wasn’t until after the road block that kept us waiting for an hour, the car crash setting us back 3 (but more like 4) hours, and me getting a traffic ticket did I realize it was in fact V-Day. It was only natural to have such bad luck and bad timing on Valentine’s Day. And since the outrageous fine accompanying the outrageous ticket is over 25% of all of my money, I am a good percentage poorer and a huge percentage more bitter about Valentine’s Day.

So the gist of the story is, this year’s Valentine’s day didn’t do any favors for itself, or for the month of February in my eyes. Good thing I get the weekend to relax, followed by a trip to London… the future is looking bright!

 

An Experience.

When I first began talking about the possibility of going to Norway, most people responded with a gasp, followed by the same token phrase: “That will be such an experience.”

An experience. Half of me hated that expression, because isn’t everything an experience? I experienced eating my raisin bran each morning before driving to school and sitting through Human Biology class. I experienced far too many boring math lessons and quite enough field hockey balls to the shin. But the other half of me knew what they meant by ‘experience.’ They meant it would be different, exciting, and most importantly: life changing. So I took the leap, not because of what other people thought, but because it was the right thing for me– and now that I’ve been here, living in Norway, I can share with you how exactly it has been an experience.

When I first arrived at my school we were all shuffled into a room for an opening ceremony. The principal: a blur up on stage followed by teachers and other faculty equally as blurry. As I sat there, unable to understand a word, I thought to myself, ‘I committed to a year of this? What have I gotten myself into?’ And at dinner, for the first time in my life I couldn’t listen in on everyone’s jittery ‘I-just-met-you’ conversations. I couldn’t eavesdrop and prematurely judge the annoying-ness of the people I was about to spend a year with. That was different.

Since arriving the two most common questions I have gotten are: “Do you like the food here in Norway?” and “What do you miss the most from home?” Coincidentally the two questions are related. I don’t hate the food here, but I do not love it. Back in Richmond, I barely ate meat, I never ate sweets, and I always ate vegetables. I miss that. When I tell people this, they remind me that it is possible to be a vegetarian here in Norway. “I know it’s possible, but I am here for a year, eating the Norwegian food, the Norwegian meat, is just part of the experience,” I tell them. And I like to tell myself it’s the same for my excessive consumption of Norwegian candy, although I think its more of a newly developed sweet-tooth. It’s okay to live in denial every once in a while, right?

While all of my friends are back at university sitting through monotone lectures, I have been climbing in western Turkey, conquering Europe’s highest sea cliff, and surfing into shore. My schedule, (and I use that word very loosely,) consists of new things each week. I often find myself in challenging situations, whether it’s freezing weather, or a never-ending hike; but I don’t dread these situations. They are exciting. I left my increasingly boring life in Richmond Virginia for the uncomfortable, unprecedented, and unfamiliar. It was all part of the experience I signed up for.

Even when I am here at Nordfjord Folkehøgskule, in the comforts of my shared wood-paneled room, I can find excitement– even if I am not sure what the excitement is all about. Someone is always clapping for something, and clapping here is contagious. Before you know it, everyone is clapping and shouting in a rhythmic manner. Don’t worry if you can’t picture it, it’s a Norwegian thing. Each meal I get to walk pass the mail boxes, and when there’s a package slip with my name on it, that’s exciting– an excitement I have never had the joy of experiencing before moving away.

All of our experiences shape and mold us into the people we become, and this particular experience has definitely been life changing. As I left for Norway, a close friend slipped me a letter that read: “You will be challenged mentally, physically, and emotionally—perfect for you!” She was right, and through these challenges I have learned a lot. I have learned that social media is not something to be poo-pooed. It is a way I can stay connected with my family and friends back home. Similarly, I have learned that my friends and family back home are worth staying connected to. People always say ‘you don’t know what you’ve got until it’s gone,’ and it’s true. Distance has proven to be the biggest pair of glasses, putting things (and relationships) into perspective. I have even discovered that new relationships can be born, and flourish, despite the distance. People’s souls can be connected on a level higher than any distance could ever even try to defeat. Even old flings can re-spark. These are all things, I never would have learned from the comfortable distance of university back in the states.

I have learned that a simpler life is a better life. I have learned that the outdoors are made for exploring—mountains are made to be hiked—waves are made to be surfed. Living in a country with such a strong economy has taught me how to live on a budget, and I mean really on a budget. I can no longer just go out to lunch when I feel like it, or buy frivolous things at the store. I’ve learned being picky about food isn’t always possible. It’s okay to break my anti-tube-food rule sometimes. Some things, (like avoiding starvation,) are more important than my former food principles and standards.

We are kept pretty busy with trips and excursions. Most of my time is spent adventuring, and because of this I’ve learned one of the most important things of all: I need to make time to create. I used to take advantage of my built-in time for art, and now that I no longer have a 6th period each day, it’s harder to fulfill that need to create. I’ve realized art is something so prominent in my soul and it cannot be pushed aside, even if its competitors are Malta’s beaches and Norway’s mountains.

Norway has been everything I had expected and so much more. I’ve challenged myself, allowing me to be proud of myself. I’ve learned about the beauty of this world and the people in it. Each day is exciting, different, and life-changing—but perhaps the easiest way to describe my time here so far, is an experience. I can’t wait to continue this experience.