[Washington, DC to Frankfurt, Germany]
It was a pleasant flight, if flights can ever be called pleasant.
My flight attendant was gorgeous, though I'm very sure he was gay. But regardless, he made the flight that much more bearable every time he handed me a hot towel or asked what I would like to drink (ice water, obvi). And he always filled the cup with ice before filling it with water, unlike the female stewardess who never gave me more than three pieces.
I didn't sleep nearly as much as I thought I would. Partly because economy class is awfully uncomfortable and partly because, though the time showed 2am, my mind was under the impression that it was 5 in the evening. This whole time difference is going to mess me up, I can tell. I've never been in a situation where jet lag was a real possibility, and I'm afraid that when I get to Moscow (at 4:25pm, local time) I'm going to be loopy with sleep deprivation. Oh, my poor host family...
Landing in Germany was awesome. Seeing the little plane on the TV screen in the cabin travel across the Atlantic Ocean didn't really excite me much. But when we broke through the clouds and I could see the neighborhoods, roads, and buildings below... my heart skipped a beat. I was sitting in the aisle seat, so I had to crane my neck to see outside. I stared so long that my neck began to cramp and I had to look the other way. Oh, it was so exhilerating! Not that it looked much different than what I'm used to. In fact, I was surprised how much it resembled Seattle. It was just the fact that I was in a foreign place. Something about looking down at the towns and thinking, "I've only ever heard stories about this place. And now I'm here!" excites me so.
Getting around the Frankfurt airport was a bit of a nightmare. But what else is new? The first thing I noticed was that our terminal moved into the main airport via stair well. And there wasn't an escalator! I've never had to take more than 5 steps up the stairs in an airport. There's ALWAYS an escalator. I think it would be unfair and rude for me to say that I was 'outraged', but suffice it to say that I was very unpleasantly surprised.
Getting through the security check took the better part of an hour, and the man in front of me smelled awful. But I gave him the benefit of the doubt: he'd probably been travelling for a long time and didn't have a chance to shower. Let's hope that's the case, at least. And of course, the buzzer went off and I had to be wanded down. Which, OH MY GOSH. I mean, they didn't take me to the back room and make me strip down or anything. But I've never been dealt with in such a way. Let's just say it wasn't the kind of welcome to Europe I was hoping for.
Walking away from security feeling exhausted and violated, I began to feel very lonely. But the remedy to this sad feeling came in three parts. First, seeing the amount of people, alone, staring at the connecting flights board, holding American passports. I didn't have the guts to approach any of them, even though I found a girl who will be volunteering in one of my sister schools in Ukraine. But just knowing that I wasn't the only American idiot in that airport made me feel a bit better about the situation. Next, while looking for my gate, I saw an elderly missionary couple (Russian-speaking, by the look of their name tags) walking arm-in arm down the hall. That definitely warmed me up a little inside and encouraged me to cheer up. And last (but not least), I went to an ATM and took 20 euros out of my account. Now, I don't have a clue how much money that actually is. But looking at the red-tinted bills with the shiny insignia down the side is enough for me.
I got to my gate and through some twist of fate met a girl who is also going to Moscow with ILP. She is a head teacher at one of my sister schools, and it was a thrill to talk to her and ask her questions about Russia. I don't know what I would have done if I hadn't met up with her. Turns out, we were both waiting at the wrong gate. If she hadn't gone to the desk to ask about our departure to Moscow, I never would have noticed.
Boarding the plane was like something out of a movie. We boarded a bus, and the bus drove us right to our plane. Just like in those old movies where all the stars have private jets. And even better than feeling like a movie star was meeting my first attractive man in Europe. Only he was American. He is going on a study abroad in Moscow, and he thought that I might be part of his group. He looked so hopeful, I almost said yes. But instead we just talked briefly about schools and travelling. It was a disappointment to see him go back to his seat (reserved for him by his guitar case).
As I looked out the window and said goodbye to Germany, I caught a huge wave of excitement. This was it! I was headed to Russia!! :)
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