Heading to Thailand, Redux

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No, I am not travelling anywhere exotic these days (yet), but given that distance travelling is still somewhat problematical, uncertain, and unpredictable I thought that it might be enjoyable for people to read about some of my previous adventures. This was my first very big one, alone, travelling to Thailand for half a year, way back beginning in 2011. So here we go, again.

Thursday, November 10, 2011 was the day I left Exeter, Maine to drive with my husband, Bill, to Montreal, Canada to begin my journey to Bangkok, Thailand. I did not want to fly anywhere within the US any longer because of its abusive, non-Constitutional, and cancer-causing naked-body scanner terrorist-screening techniques, so I chose to fly from Montreal, where people were still treated with respect. The drive was pleasant, pretty, although bittersweet. I had planned on leaving for almost six months, half a year away from my family, my home, our cats, to teach English to Thai children. I would miss Thanksgiving and Christmas. Why? My last child had fledged, so we were empty-nesters. I had been laid off from my relatively well-paid Special Education teaching position with the Bangor Public Schools; along with many other states in the US, the state of Maine was also in dire straits financially, but to cut services to those who needed them most seemed shameful to me. In addition, my hours working with preschoolers for CDS, Child Development Services, were also cut; again, for the same reasons: not enough money allotted for those who needed it most. As for my other professional jobs, being a certified Classical Homeopath, and teacher for the British Institute of Homeopathy, plus also offering my services to homeschooling families as certified teacher support, those I could continue online. The TEFL Thailand program introduced itself, and I thought, why not? At worst, I would get to teach in a foreign country, and get paid enough to travel and explore other countries nearby. So I thought. I signed on.

Things did not turn out as planned, but after over twenty-four hours in airplanes and airports, plus losing half a day in transit, I made it to Bangkok, Thailand by almost midnight (their time) on November 12. But getting there is a story in itself. On Friday, November 11, I flew out of Montreal. Six plus hours away from where we live, it was worth the extra driving time in terms of not having to worry about the travesty that had been termed "airport security" in the US. There is nothing secure about "airport security" except for the knowledge that basic Constitutional (and human) rights were being trampled on and ignored. At this airport I sailed through their security; except for taking off my coat, I did not have to undress, or take off my shoes, or remove any jewelry, or worry that someone would try to physically abuse me. Yes, I had to walk through a metal detector, but other than that, and having my suitcase and backpack screened, it was almost as easy as flying was in the twentieth century.

I remember one of my first flights in a jet plane, in the late 1960s. As a child my father used to let my younger brothers and me crowd into the backs of very small planes on which his firefighter friends were learning to fly; we were small and very lightweight, and all together the three of us did not weigh as much as a grown adult so they deemed it to be fine. It was. We had so many practice flights, take-offs and landings; one could see the earth below and how fast we were moving, and feel the power of the small engines. Oh, I still love flying in small planes! But flying in a large jet was disappointingly tame. In any case, United Airlines was the top choice back then (in the late 1960s), and my middle brother and I flew to visit our older brother whom we had not seen in quite awhile. My father had bought us each a half fare student card; with this card I could (and did!) fly several places. Prices were totally reasonable, especially for students. For example, from Pittsburgh, PA to NYC it cost $8.00 half-fare. Yes, $8.00. We had to fly stand-by, but what a deal! Only once during that time was the plane full, and so we had to wait until the next day to try again. Our father didn't seem to mind driving us home and back again the next day. And flying was fun! The stewardesses (no stewards back then) were all young women under 30, thin, well-dressed, and were very kind and respectful to travellers, especially to young people flying without their parents. (Back then one would never have heard: "Ask that person to help you put your bag in the overhead bin." They did that themselves, as that was a part of their job.) United Airlines (of old) offered real cooked food served with real silverware on real ceramic plates; I don't remember when plastic and microwaved inedibles first appeared, but that was a truly unfortunate transition away from decent food and manners. Also, United Airlines (of old) offered water and drinks in beautiful little rounded glass cups. I am ashamed to admit that I tried to keep one of these glasses, as I loved their shape, how they looked and felt; they fit perfectly into the palm of my hand. (It did not make it home, however, as it got broken in transit.)

Back then your family or friends could stay with you in the airport while you waited to board your flight. This made for some emotional partings, but also allowed wonderful reunions coming right off the plane. We were more aware of the importance of nurturing human contact back then, more respectful of others, more understanding of basic human needs, but also less isolated, by choice or by force.

Montreal's airport reminded me of some of these pleasant flying experiences I had had as a child. And the plane even left on time! The food, however, was not a problem at all; they did not serve any on the short routes from Pittsburgh to New York or to Philly.

But back to the (old now) future of November, 2011. As this was my first long-distance solo trip, I hadn't yet learned exactly how to pack. When I arrived at the Bangkok International airport I realised I had put the papers with the information telling where I was to meet the TEFL coordinator in with my checked luggage, which I hadn't retrieved yet, a huge mistake. So I wandered throughout the airport, looking for a TEFL sign being held by someone, removing layers of clothing as I went. I am a very lucky person it seems, as there he was, holding the sign, happily greeting me to Thailand. Several other teachers-to-be were already crowding around him; I joined the group and my already strange odyssey continued.

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