I have to put out a disclaimer: there will be tense issues. I don't feel like being consistent, nor do I have time to edit. Sorry to those of you out there (dad) whom this will bother. This will also likely be my longest post since I have some time to kill at the guest house while waiting for a ride. There is also tremendous internet connection at the guest house so when in Rome.
The man next to me has almost completed his second Wednesday NYT crossword when I finish my first easy sudoku. I suspect his frustration that he hasn't beat me to the finish line. I realize now that it was a competition, but even if I knew this I don't think I could have gone much faster and I am secretly self-conscious of my inferior mental abilities next to this crossword cyborg. He is a floor talker, the kind of man who averts his eyes to the ground as you try to make small talk. His ability to quickly recall useless information to scribble letters into black outlined boxes becomes apparent. I watch him from the corner of my eye. He checks the answers to his second puzzle, and crosses out a few letters. Hah! I am smarter after all. I never check my answers, and therefore, am always right.
Enter Nana. This is not here real name, but her given name since we couldn't understand any of her Lao. We gathered from her hand motions that she is pushing 80. She wears a black dress pants, a zebra striped top, and pearls, none of which match her halfway toothless grin. We suspect someone dressed her. She is the kind of old woman whose family is on the plane, but intentionally many rows away. Wouldn't you know it, she was the third in our seating arrangement, the aisle seat, our Porthos. She hated everything, from how her back hurt from the seat, the acidic orange juice, or hardly any of the food. She always seemed to find some food on my plate that she did like however. She refused the food that the flight attendants offered, but then always wanted some after seeing me pull back the foil lid from the rice container. She summoned the flight attendants by tapping them on the butt and asked for her own meal. Upon receiving it,though, she ate none of it. I don't think she understood how to open any of it. Those airplane meals can get pretty complicated after all, with all of those different containers. I made trades with her. I opened my shrimp soup and she immediately wanted it. I had no choice but to give it up. Next I opened the box of rice on my tray. She motioned for me to put rice in her soup, so I spooned rice into her soup. She became my adopted grandma that I took care of for all 12 hours of the flight. The best part were her faces. Every time she tried something that she didn't like, which was everything that she put in her mouth, she turned up her nose, squinted her eyes, and mouthed "blah." I began to anticipate her. The flight attendant came around with a drink tray every half hour and ever time Nana took orange juice, and every time made her now patented "blah" face. I always picked water from the tray, and then swapped for her orange juice. So...much...orange...juice.
My mind quickly lost track of what my eyes were telling it. I never thought about how strange it is to travel west. You don't get the full effect of it when going a short distance, such as to Chicago or the west coast, but we are a full 11 hours ahead here in Bangkok. It is Monday here, but Sunday in Cleveland. That also means that that I should be sleeping now, yet here I am typing. During the flights, though, I kept seeing the sun, but I never knew if it was a sunrise or a sunset. I hadn't adjusted my watch yet and with the time zones rapidly changing I had no idea what was going on. My body kept telling me to sleep, but was that because it was night time or because I hadn't slept in who knows how long? Korean Air is a tremendously accommodating airline, so much so that it is overbearing. I don't know how many cups of orange juice I received half asleep. Maybe 27? All I remember from the flight from Seoul to Bangkok is my eyes occasionally opening to a Korean woman with light blue ribbon tightly tying together a black bun, leaning over me with a tray of select juices. By this time of my journey it was close to 8am (a full 24 hours after boarding my first flight) Cleveland time so I was unaware of many things. But all ended fine on a nice firm mattress at a bed and breakfast in Bangkok. There was sweet tea and a gracious host awaiting us. A good sign of Thailand's smiling hospitality already.
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