June
2008
End of the Line (Day 22)0
Yesterday evening we brought our checkable luggage down and loaded the vans. After dinner SSTH opened its disco for a fare-well dance, and therefore some of us were up quite late. Around midnight I played a last game of pinball and retired to my room. This morning the alarm went off at 4am. Yes folks – I was up before the sun. Along with Curtis and Asha I made sure everyone else in our group was up and moving – getting dressed, putting out the linens for the cleaning staff to collect, confirming that all personal items were packed, all trash taken out, nothing left behind or out of place.
We gathered in the lobby to turn in our room keys (I don’t believe I’ve mentioned them before, but I’ve been meaning to: the keys at SSTH are magnetic. Each door has a lock with a place to touch a key, and each key is a small round magnet with a little plastic handle. The locks and keys are programmable, so room keys open only one bedroom and the corresponding laundry room (and hall bathrooms if applicable). All keys look completely identical.)
…Where was I? Right. Checking out and loading up. We turned in our keys, collected packed breakfasts, and piled into the SSTH vans for one last ride. The airport parking lot did not have anywhere near enough luggage carts available, so we sent some members of the group to go get more while the rest of us unloaded the vans. Then we each loaded our own luggage onto a cart and wheeled out (pretty well in formation) for the check-in desk.
The airport staff were polite and (I think) a little flustered at the arrival of our “large” group and so many bags. They decided to process us in little groups of three or four, asking how long we’d been in the country, if we had packed our own bags, if we were carrying anything for anyone else, if we had any electronics and if so – details about the electronics, and taking time to hold up each passport and compare the picture to the corresponding person. In short, they were very meticulous before they let us approach the agents at the check-in counter to surrender our bags and claim our tickets.
Then we continued with our carry-on luggage first to a bathroom break and then through security – metal detectors for the people, scanners for the bags, no liquids, not very much of a wait.
Once settled on the plane, I knew I should try to sleep. Because the long flight (about eight and a half hours) traveled from east to west, we were crossing into a much earlier time zone and would land in the early afternoon, local time – not an evening hour similar to the time zone to which I was accustomed. …I don’t think I did much more than doze. After a while trying to sleep, I gave up and watched the in-flight movie and television lineup, as passively as possible, and resting/dozing as much as I could (I must have rested somewhat, because I really don’t recall what the film or the television was with much clarity – I feel like I keep getting the entertainment from the flight over confused with that of the flight back.)
We landed at familiar JFK, and hurried to Customs and Immigration, where we happily inched through the line to the officials who checked our passports and welcomed us home. Then to the baggage carousel, and a bit of a wait for the luggage to appear. We had fun getting all the (nearly identical) American Airlines duffle bags reunited with their proper owners.
When I walked out of the customs section and down the hall where people wait to meet deplaned passengers, I met quite a surprise: not only was my boyfriend waiting for me, he’d brought my best friend and her boyfriend as well as a giant welcome home poster. There were many hugs all around, and they helped me with my luggage but wouldn’t tell me whose car they had borrowed or where the car was. We waited on the curb a few minutes, catching up on all the news and (in my case, at least) adjusting to the summer heat and humidity and then a very familiar car drove up. It was my mom’s car, with my mom driving, because my friends had persuaded her to leave work early (I hadn’t dared to ask her to) and pick me up.
We drove back to her house in Brooklyn for a late lunch, and then I visited a few more friends at their house in Brooklyn. The idea was to stay up and go to bed at a reasonable local hour, the better to adjust my internal clock and reduce the effects of jet lag, but it didn’t really happen. By nine-thirty I was nearly asleep on my feet, despite the good company and the consumption of caffeine, so I reluctantly said goodnight and traveled home to bed.
On the trip, we had joked about experiencing culture shock when we returned home. In some ways I did feel a little shocked. I’d forgotten how busy and crowded and diverse New York City is, I’d completely forgotten the feel of summer heat and humidity, and after so many weeks of different food, a borrowed room, and a small group of constant companions – getting home with all its freedoms and options and usual responsibilities was a little overwhelming at first.
Still, I’m glad to be back, I’m glad I learned so much, and I think in a few months I might even be craving fondue again.
