Travel

The airport announcements in Amsterdam are surprisingly urgent and guilt based: "Mr Nakazawa, traveling to Bahrain, YOU ARE DELAYING THE FLIGHT. Please board at gate A7. We are preparing to offload your luggage." I was shocked at Mr. Nakazawa's behavior and determined to never be that person, the guilty flight-delayer. At least, I was shocked the first 17 or so times I heard that style of announcement. By the end of my 9 hour layover, it was background noise, just like the recording on the moving sidewalks instructing no one in particular to "please mind your step. please mind your step." The Amsterdam airport is a wonder, with shiny floors and big spaces and a basically unenforced smoking ban. How very European. But the real highlight are the Comfort Seats- herds of big comfy reclining chairs, tucked into otherwise unusable space throughout the airport and perfect for sleeping while spooning with one's carry-on.

And so, after 36 hours, 2 lattes, innumerable naps, 3 on-board movies, countless glasses of water, a very strange chicken sandwich and a follow-up dramamine, I arrived ten minutes early in the District of Columbia. Passport control was no trouble, but baggage claim? I think my big black suitcase is out to get me. It looks basically like every other big black suitcase, so I inspect each one as it goes by. But I think my suitcase changes its appearance on purpose before exiting the aircraft, bragging to the other luggage, "I bet I can go past her at least 3 times without her recognizing me!" When I arrived in Nairobi, I rejected the suitcase as mine because, and I'm certain of this, the main zipper had switched sides. And this time, it had shed its large metal plate proclaiming "Atlantic" in easily distinguishable letters. So yes, it went past me repeatedly before I finally recognized it. I'm pretty sure I heard it snickering as I pulled through customs.

But it was soon drowned out in the sounds of reunion with my parents, complete with purple flowers, a few tears, and a down jacket for the equatorial dweller. America is strangely normal and surprisingly not. It's interesting the things you notice in a newly-new place: my nose is cold. The sunlight arrives at such a slanted angle. Internet pages load so quickly. There's so much space between the cars. Zeke is much grayer than when I left. But most important- I can feel my strength returning with each bite of USDA approved beef. Surely I will be whole and energetic by January.