My first experiences getting where I was going were odd, which I think will be a running theme in this entry. Also, beautiful, and that will be another running theme here. The beautiful counter worker for Korean Air in Los Angeles informed me that I would have an aisle seat, which is preferable on a thirteen hour flight, she also informed me the flight would probably be shorter, closer to twelve hours. All this was good and fine, but then without a single change in demeanor or tone she also told me that I would be seated next to an infant. She didn't really ask me if it was alright but I got the impression if I threw a fit (as perhaps others had before me) then I may get a seat change. I played the gracious one and smiled and said ok.
Security only took twenty-five minutes and boarding was quick. Then when I arrived at my seat on the double decker 777 an even more beautiful Korean girl was sitting in the middle seat and speaking in Korean to an older man –the conversation was not going well. The interaction (which is a better description of what it actually was) ended quickly, and after a moment, just as I settled into my seat, she looked at me and asked if wouldn't I be kind enough to switch seats with her friend so that they could sit together. Now sitting next to an infant for twelve plus hours isn't usually preferable but her friend was only eight rows back and if that baby decided to wail it wouldn't make one damn bit of difference if I was eight rows back or not. Also, the seat I had now was right behind business class and so the leg room before the dividing wall was immense, a point the counter girl had used to offset the disappointing news about my row mate. I looked back at the Korean girl waving her hand from the window seat eight rows back and I looked at my leg room, then I bit my lip and said sure. As I gathered my things the beautiful Korean mother, a girl who looked too young to have bore a child, started speaking to a flight attended who then erupted profusely with thank you's and sir's. I made my way back into my seat and as I passed the friend she too thanked me feverishly. My new seat was a shack compared to the mansion I had vacated, and my neighbor, whether childless or not, was not nearly as good looking.
Just after we got into the air the excessively thankful flight attendant brought me a sleeping mask to block out the light, quite a nice one which I surmised to be from business or first class. It came in handy and no one else I saw was given one. The Korean baby I had left with her mother eight rows forward didn't let out a peep and so I managed to sleep for about half the flight and just about finished my book on the other half, including a little Angry Birds action, but that was about it for leg number one.
The intermission, which consisted of a thirteen hour layover in Seoul went rather smoothly, as smoothly as thirteen hours in an airport could go. I didn't head into the city, an hours drive from the airport, because there were questions about a return trip not to mention currency exchange and all the other bits and pieces that go with being a foreigner, so I found some internet and tried my best to keep busy while I watched the rain fall on the runway that would soon deliver me to my future.
The last and final leg of the trip began with an occurrence too good not to write down. While boarding the plane I noticed a pot bellied American wearing a Hawaiian shirt, sandals, and a salt and peppered crew cut. He appeared to be in his fifties and the only saving grace I can think of is that he at least had the sense not to wear socks beneath his double strap sandals. He annoyed me with how obvious he was, it is true that I'm easily annoyed, a fact of my existence that I've fought heartily in the past but recently have come to terms with, he was too loud both in voice and simply in presence.
Once everyone was seated the stewardess came to the man in front of me and asked if he would mind allowing her to place someone next to him in the vacant seat that was there. Apparently the man was tall and uncomfortable with his current amount of leg room. I too had a vacant seat next to me but I was a row behind the emergency exit and their leg room was ample. If you couldn't guess who was being seated in front of me you haven't been paying attention, the loud American. He immediately turned to the man sitting next to him and without thanking him began...
For purposes of truth and honesty I will name the two men as best I can and recreate the conversation as truthfully as possible from the notes I scrawled in my book as they conversed.
Loud American: Hello there.
Thai Man: Hello.
LA: How are you?
TM: Good, thank you.
LA: Boy sure am glad you speak English because I...
(The Loud American says something I swear to god sounds mpre like a deaf autistic child trying to speak than any language on earth. The Thai man in response stifles his laughter as best he can. If the Loud American is nothing else at least he is entertaining.)
TM: Oh that's ok.
LA: Where are you from?
TM: I'm Thai.
LA: Really.
TM: Yes, really.
LA: I'm going to visit my fiance.
(I can't see either of their faces but there is a noticeable pause, and if I had to guess it would be that the Thai man made a face like someone just offered to help a blind man cross the street and then abandoned him in the middle of the intersection, pure horror, a sort of how rude and what the fuck look. I realize this is probably a projection, but nonetheless it's my guess.)
LA: Are you married, have a family?
TM: Yes.
LA: Do you have any kids?
TM: Two, a boy and a –
LA: I got four kids, oldest is thirty-five. My fiance wants kids but I keep telling her once she marries me she'll inherit all of mine.
TM: Yes, well –
LA: What do you do for work?
TM: I work in garment.
LA: Garmen? Ain't those the people who make air fresheners for your car?
TM: Uh, no, we make clothes.
LA: That's funny because there's this company called Garmen and they make air fresheners for cars, (and with a somewhat accusatory tone) funny how it's the same name don't you think?
TM: I don't know.
There was a bit more to the conversation after this. The American explained where Utah, his home state, was in America and that he'd been coming to Thailand for eight years, ever since his divorce. The Thai man's responses were short and succinct while the loud American's speech was as bloated as he was. I cannot tell you how dissapointing it was that the first interaction I observed with Thai people outside of the U.S. involved the very stereotype that I will endeavor to destroy, if not for Americans then at least for myself.
I didn't sleep a wink but instead read and upon landing was much relieved to be where I was going for the most part. I stepped out of the airport and into the warm Thai air, I had arrived, home sweet home...errr.....sort of. Now you may want to know what my first full day was like, as I write this I sit in my hotel room clicking away on my second full day in Thailand. That first day was huge, gargantuan, bigger than the biggest American ever, and ultimately a post all unto itself. Tata, eat well, drink well, and think of me every time you get in your car and turn the ignition because that's something I wont be doing again for a very long, long time.
