Seriously, that’s what my trip home felt like. A culmination of things learned while in PC – a mixture of dealing with delays, exercising flexibility, creativeness, releasing your vulnerabilities to strangers, making international friends, sleeping in weird places and having the patience and strength to see the journey through to the end.
So, I got to GT in one piece. And then after a farewell party themed 80’s Prom Night at a gay bar in Georgetown the night before, complete with people dressed in 80’s fashion and dancing to tunes from the 70’s, 80’s and 90’s (my personal favorites of the night – “Love Shack” and “Locomotion”), Peace Corps vans picked the 10 PCVs travelling home up at 5:30 a.m. We all got on the flight to New York with little issue – I bought some duty free bottles of the world’s best rum, El Dorado, and Tim had to check his canoe paddle instead of take it as a carry on. Some had to catch a connecting flight right away, and Shannon Gill had her parents waiting outside the terminal to drive her home to New Jersey, along with her Guyanese cat, Scout, but 5 of us, Kien, Tim, DeAnna, Edith and myself, went to Burger King to taste a little bit of the US.
We had to say goodbye to Tim and DeAnna right after that, then Edith, Kien and I walked around a bit and settled down in a gate. After about 10 minutes, though, Kien said he was gonna head to his own gate. I knew it was coming, that boy isn’t up for emotional moments and was short on sleep, but I didn’t want to have to say goodbye. Kien has been like a brother to me these two years. He was in Lethem and was a solid guy to rely on for a place to stay or just friendship, both of which were appreciated and needed while amongst our Guyanese friends. I hugged him hard and as he walked off, I actually cried. Saying goodbye to him made the end of these two years seem final, more than any other act or goodbye thus far had been.
To distract me, Edith had me paint my toes with nail polish she got from some friends in her village, later we went to Chili’s to get a drink and appetizer – hello margarita (though it was strange getting carded)! We walked to her gate and waited until she had to board, and I sadly saw her off, then going to my own gate. That was the last of GUY20 who COS’ed at the 2-year mark. I was sad as I walked, but then smiled at the strength accumulated from the knowledge of completing my goal and making such wonderful friendships. I would go home, fully competent, content and strong.
That’s when it all went downhill. My flight was delayed for a few hours. Dismayed, I quickly regrouped and called home to inform and settled down to going over my pictures on my laptop while I waited. But then it was delayed again, to an hour later. Then delayed again. Then the flight changed gates. Then delayed two more times, until it was cancelled.
It was around 11:30 p.m. Everyone got in a line to talk with the airline employees, and I just followed not sure what to do. We hear that the airline won’t compensate us for the cancelled flight because it was due to nature and not the airline. A young woman in front of me seemed pleasant and struck up a conversation with the woman in front of her about being from South Africa but attending school at KU… I asked a question about flight stuff here and there, trying to keep the tears from rolling down.
I had no debit card, I had no cell phone, I had no NY contacts, and very little US money. The lady the KU student had talked to had left for another plan her husband came up with and I began talking with the young woman. Vuyiswa, her name was. I told her a bit of my story, and she said we’d stick together. We waited in line for two hours. She went first, and I made a mental speech of appeal to the clerks, pulling the Peace Corps Card of Mercy, hoping they’d sympathize. They told Vuyiswa that they could put her on a standby flight the next evening. I went up there, gave my speel, and the lady went “Whoa. But I can’t do anything about it, you could go talk to my supervisor, maybe he could help you with vouchers.” So I abandoned that desk and went to the next terminal.
Apparently, there was a small line already there, according to some assertive passenger. I started crying, and noisily. Vuyiswa came up and asked what was wrong, and I couldn’t even articulate the problem, she just hugged me and told me to let it out. I knew people were watching and imagined that assertive passenger viewed my tears as a female manipulation for attention. I tried to collect myself, and decided to try one more time. I interjected as the supervisor was with someone, assuring the defensive passenger man that I knew it was not my turn, and just wanted to make sure I’d get attended to. The supervisor, not unkindly, told me he would help me, I just needed to wait. I sniffled and waited. The sup brought up an option to Wichita, Kansas, stating that he could get me there, but after that, I was on my own to get to KC. I took it, figuring I could catch a bus to KC or something. The sup gave me a shuttle voucher – the flight to Wichita was at La Guardia, the other airport in NY – and a $6 breakfast voucher. Vuyiswa went to get the same deal.
We eventually got to La Guardia around 5:45, along with another man from Bangaladesh we met. We immediately went to check in. The people at this desk were a fresh breeze of pleasant, it soothed me a little to even see them smile amongst themselves. The lady asked why I was going to Wichita when I originally was supposed to go to KC, I explained, then elaborated a bit on being ready to go home. I was beyond using PC as a playing piece, but I did mention it. “Do you want me to look for a flight to KC?” she asks. Yes! She found one, from Detroit. You bet. And you know what? She bumped me up to first class! “For what you do for our country.” I cried again.
Vuyiswa, Uncle and I pooled our vouchers and petty cash together to get coffee and a breakfast at Sbarros. Uncle bid us adieu, and Vuyiswa and I sat there while she told a little of her country. She had a slightly different flight arrangement than I did, and so we went to my gate since my flight was first. We both fell asleep in the chairs for a bit. My flight was delayed a half hour, for some reason, but I finally said goodbye to my new friend, and boarded first class on a flight to Detroit, Michigan. I didn’t know what to do with the hot, damp towel they gave me, but I considered that quite a lowly issue to worry about, so I just did what the guy across the isle did.
I landed in Detroit and settled myself down for an expected 4 hour layover. Which turned into a 7 hour layover. The plane was there, but no crew, the crew was coming BACK from KC but their plane had some issues….. I thought I’d never get home. KC became this obscure, meaningless place, a figment of my imagination.
So many times that day, I had to fight to get the beaten look off my face. I had to put things in perspective, I had to tell myself I’d look back at this humorously, that I WOULD eventually get home. That there were worse things. That there were single parents with kids to have to deal with during these delays and cancellations and I was a single, competent adult – a Peace Corps Volunteer, for goodness sakes!
I did it, but it was hard! I mocked my carefree cocky self from 18 hours ago who thought she was strong and competent. I wasn’t sure I’d have any emotion left once I finally landed in KCI. But I did, and we got on the plane around 7, and did land around 8:30 in KC, my Home, and saw the faces of Mom, Dad and Tony to greet me. Seriously, I got there. Almost 24 hours later than I was supposed to, but I got there in one piece.
I’ll count that as a pass.
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2 comments:
As we had become accustomed to, we watched waited and waited and waited, from a distance, with dreadfully little communications with you. Little did we know all that you were going thru. That night, we actually scheduled our departure from KC, by car, in the very early AM, to meet you in Wichita. To wait unknowing and helpless (to do anything to resolve your compounding dilemmas) was extremely frustrating. By morning light I had already lodged complaints with the airline and the USDOT. Internally it became "personal" to me (especially after learning that you cried). Thankfully, you eventually were able to give us an actual KC arrival time. I was able to focus on that, helping me snap out of what continued to feel more and more like some wierd overnight episode of The Twilight Zone .... "You were traveling through another dimension, a dimension not only of sight and sound but of mind. A journey into a wondrous land of imagination. Next stop, Kansas City Missouri!" Finally getting you Home made it all worthwhile though. Seeing you again after more than 2 years of being away was one of the best things I've ever experinced.
It was a mountainous way to come back to the US and come back under the protection of my family. It was interesting, though; even though I was still States away from you all, and had to borrow phones and scrounge up quarters to call you, I still was with the knowledge that I COULD call you, and you COULD help me through these particular issues, when in the past two years, you could not. It was an exercise, to get used to that fact, and within a short - relatively speaking, of course, emotionally, it felt like a lifetime - amount of time, too. Thank you for giving me that lifelong sense of security.
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