Friday, September 08, 2006
Plane Transfer in Frankfurt
Natasha woke me for the plane transfer at the Frankfurt airport. It seemed that she hadn’t slept at all, was awake reading a copy of People magazine. In Frankfurt, we transferred to a plane to New York and I found that again, I had the questionable fortune of being seated next to Natasha. I took a sleeping pill that I bought in one of the pharmacies in Tashkent. One amazing thing in Tashkent was all of the pharmaceuticals that were available over-the-counter. I’d heard of my American compatriots stocking up on Viagra, on various painkillers, sleeping pills, and so forth. The pill put me out for the duration of the flight until the stewardess came over, asking me to put up my seat as we were 20 minutes to landing in JFK airport.
Natasha had never been to New York before, and though it was already dark outside, already evening in New York, she wanted to look out my window seat thinking that circling over Queens we might be able to see the Empire State Building ,the Statue of Liberty. I insisted “we’re not in Manhattan; we won’t be able to see any of these things…”
But she said she’d flown over JFK airport and had seen them before. She reached over me to look out the window, seeing the lit up buildings below.
“Look,” I tried to reason with her, “I’ve flown into JFK more than 100 times in my life. You can’t see these things from the plane. If you don’t believe me, just ask the stewardesses, ask anyone.”
“You’re spoiled,” she said angrily, even outraged. “You don’t appreciate your country. You take it all for granted.”
I resignedly looked at her, raising my hands, not wanting a conflict. She wouldn’t know that I had too many other things on my mind. Coming back to the US felt stressful to me. Had everything changed? Had the things that were bad not changed at all? Had they gotten worse? “Why don’t we switch seats,” I proposed. “You can look out my window to the Empire State Building.”
We switched seats and like a child, she pressed her face to the window, looking down on Queens below. “I can see the Empire State Building,” she squealed. I knew that it is not possible to see the Empire State Building from the airplane, but I figured, let Natasha live with her illusions, her happiness, her washer-dryer, dishwasher, and Wall-Mart. ¶ 10:46 PM
Natasha woke me for the plane transfer at the Frankfurt airport. It seemed that she hadn’t slept at all, was awake reading a copy of People magazine. In Frankfurt, we transferred to a plane to New York and I found that again, I had the questionable fortune of being seated next to Natasha. I took a sleeping pill that I bought in one of the pharmacies in Tashkent. One amazing thing in Tashkent was all of the pharmaceuticals that were available over-the-counter. I’d heard of my American compatriots stocking up on Viagra, on various painkillers, sleeping pills, and so forth. The pill put me out for the duration of the flight until the stewardess came over, asking me to put up my seat as we were 20 minutes to landing in JFK airport.
Natasha had never been to New York before, and though it was already dark outside, already evening in New York, she wanted to look out my window seat thinking that circling over Queens we might be able to see the Empire State Building ,the Statue of Liberty. I insisted “we’re not in Manhattan; we won’t be able to see any of these things…”
But she said she’d flown over JFK airport and had seen them before. She reached over me to look out the window, seeing the lit up buildings below.
“Look,” I tried to reason with her, “I’ve flown into JFK more than 100 times in my life. You can’t see these things from the plane. If you don’t believe me, just ask the stewardesses, ask anyone.”
“You’re spoiled,” she said angrily, even outraged. “You don’t appreciate your country. You take it all for granted.”
I resignedly looked at her, raising my hands, not wanting a conflict. She wouldn’t know that I had too many other things on my mind. Coming back to the US felt stressful to me. Had everything changed? Had the things that were bad not changed at all? Had they gotten worse? “Why don’t we switch seats,” I proposed. “You can look out my window to the Empire State Building.”
We switched seats and like a child, she pressed her face to the window, looking down on Queens below. “I can see the Empire State Building,” she squealed. I knew that it is not possible to see the Empire State Building from the airplane, but I figured, let Natasha live with her illusions, her happiness, her washer-dryer, dishwasher, and Wall-Mart. ¶ 10:46 PM
