The flight Attendant Down The Street

I AM HANGING a coach passenger’s garment bag in the first class coat closet. It is summer and we do not have any coats to hang in the closet, just a couple of suit jackets belonging to a few first class passengers, businessmen flying between meetings, appointments, conferences. I AM HANGING a coach passenger’s garment bag in the first class coat closet. It is summer and we do not have any coats to hang in the closet, just a couple of suit jackets belonging to a few first class passengers, businessmen flying between meetings, appointments, conferences.

I AM STARING at elephants foraging near my Land Rover in Damaraland, Namibia. Such huge, amazing creatures, walking precisely, deliberately, in search of the next bush, or bough, or tree, with a trunk as dexterous as my hand.

I AM RIDING on the employee parking lot bus at the Tampa airport, my workday finally over. The bus is packed with other employees ending their shifts. It has been a very long day for me, a turnaround, four flights in and out of various airports, Tampa-Atlanta-Milwaukee-Tampa, with several long sits (waiting around between flights) making my day even longer.

I AM DRIVING across the border from Croatia into Montenegro with Djordie, my guide, and Josef, the driver of this small, slightly ramshackle car.

A PILOT IS TELLING me about his job interview at Flying Tigers. A huge freight airline, we also have a tiny passenger branch, a charter for the US military. We take troops to air force bases all over the world.

I AM WATCHING a performance of the National Bunraku Theatre in Osaka, Japan. Everyone in the theatre is Japanese but me. The English translation of the storyline is softly channeling through the headset on my ears. I am enthralled.

I AM STANDING at the aircraft door. We have landed, taxiied to the gate, my door disarmed and ready to open. I wait for the gate agent to give me a thumbs up through the window, indicating the jetway is in place, the door can be safely opened, passengers can deplane.

I AM WAITING for the captain to arrive. It is the day after Thanksgiving and we are in San Diego with a fully boarded airplane. The entire crew is here except for the captain. No one knows where he is. The copilot stayed with family the night before, not at the hotel, so he hasn’t seen Rex since they arrived in San Diego yesterday.

I AM EATING dinner with Beki, a driver for a tour company in Lalibela, Ethiopia. Beki is eager to introduce me to a local dish, tibs. “You will like it,” he assures me. “It is a favorite of Westerners.

I AM SHOPPING in Itaewon, the frantic marketplace in Seoul, Korea, where the locals NEVER shop. Korean girls prefer their designer clothing authentic, are willing to pay full price.

I AM WALKING around Budapest, Hungary, admiring old, beautiful buildings that are crumbling just enough to give the city great charm and character. It is a terrific city for sightseeing on foot. A Hungarian man riding a bicycle is heading in my direction.

I HAVE SIGNED up for spa treatments in a hot spring high in the Andes mountains of Ecuador. The high-pressure jet massage sounds rather interesting, something I have never experienced before.

I AM LIVING in Jerusalem in a tiny flat on the second floor of a building near the King David Hotel. A winding stone staircase leads to apartments on three floors. The neighbor upstairs is a short sturdy blonde woman who keeps trying to set me up with Yaakov, the son of the neighbors who live next door.

I AM EATING lunch in a restaurant in New Delhi, India. The restaurant is beautifully furnished and the food is delicious. The only patrons are foreigners, and tour bus after tour bus pulls up, discharging groups of Europeans.

I AM PANICKING because I have a mosquito bite on the side of my face. I am on vacation in Nepal, heading to India the next day. I chose not to take malaria tablets because the risk is relatively low in the places I am going.

I AM LISTENING intently to a passenger standing in the front galley of my airplane. The service is over, the trash picked up. Passengers are watching movies, listening to music, reading, sleeping, or trying to sleep.

I AM SMOKING a cigar in Pinar del Rio, Cuba, a Montecristo, the cigar of choice of Che Guevara, the revolutionary.

I AM READING the guestbook in F Street Station, a bar in Anchorage, Alaska. It is early January, bitter cold outside, and crewmembers from my airline are the only patrons.

I AM TALKING to a couple in the back galley.  She has a seat in coach and he is sitting in first class, but he has walked back to the aft galley to talk to her. They know each other, are together in some way.

I HAVE SCHEDULED a massage in Seoul, Korea. This is my first time here, and the flight attendants have told me about the fabulous, inexpensive massages at the spa in this 5-star hotel.

I AM CHEERING for my favorite sumo rikishi (wrestler) from my seat in the arena in Osaka, Japan. Endo is his name and he is considered very attractive by Japanese standards.

I AM TRAVELING from Seoul, Korea to Vientiane, Laos, the start of a vacation that will take me from the Plain of Jars in Laos to the temples of Angkor Wat in Cambodia to the tunnels of Cu Chi in Vietnam.

I AM HANDING a passenger a bottle of water. She popped into my galley to ask for one and I notice the guy sleeping soundly in the seat next to her.

I AM GIGGLING in the back galley with my flight attendant friends. It is early evening, the service complete, the cabin quiet. There are several hours left in the flight. We are bored.

I AM EATING whole fried crab in a Chinese restaurant in San Francisco, famous for, well, whole fried crab. I am intrigued. How do you fry a whole crab in the shell, and how do you eat it? I grew up here, eating Dungeness at every opportunity, but never fried.

I AM SNORKELING at a site in Palau called The Big Drop Off. I have snorkeled many amazing reefs around the world, from Ras Mohammed in the Red Sea to the barrier reef in Belize, but I have never seen anything quite like what I am gazing at today.

I AM SWAPPING for a trip on the swap board, a computer-based program where flight attendants pick up, drop or swap trips with other flight attendants or with open time, which is a posting of all trips with vacant positions needing coverage.

I AM CAREENING through the streets of Saigon, or should I say Ho Chi Minh City? It’ll always be Saigon to me, a leftover moniker from the war I watched every evening on TV as a young girl.

I AM DRINKING “jungle juice” in a bar in Osan, Korea with a group of American fighter pilots. I have no idea what this purplish concoction is, served in a large communal bowl with straws for everyone.

I AM INTERACTING with a group of Himba women at their village in northern Namibia. These girls are known for their elaborate hairstyles, long plaits like tidy dreadlocks wound with ribbons,

I AM ESCORTING a young boy to his seat. He boards first, before the other passengers, because he is an unaccompanied minor, traveling by himself, no parent with him on this flight.

I AM STANDING in front of a classroom of 15 Laotian teenagers in Phonsavan, Laos. I had read on the Internet that in this somewhat remote northern city, a bit off the typical tourist track, they love it if a native speaker pops in to teach an English class.

I AM KNEELING in a Buddhist temple in Chiang Mai, Thailand. I am getting a sak yant tattoo that will be blessed by a monk. Sak yants are mystical tattoos with magical properties which will protect me from harm, bring me kindness and merit.

I’M JUST AN ORDINARY PERSON. I never thought of becoming a flight attendant. I assumed you had to be 5 feet 10 inches tall, drop dead gorgeous and speak five languages. I was none of those things.

I AM SIGHTSEEING in Hong Kong. The sights and smells on the street are overwhelming. The Chinese eat everything, and it is all for sale, coiled up in baskets, hanging from shop windows, crowded in cages.

I AM STANDING in the December cold in Boston along the route of the Olympic torch relay. My flight attendant friend, Mel, a woman in her mid-fifties, has been chosen to carry the torch for 200 yards, a torch lit in Athens

I AM ACCEPTING a pile of freshly laundered clothes, a hotel employee delivering it to my room. Jeans, shirts, socks, undies. Everything ls so cheap here in Kathmandu so I have the hotel do my laundry

I AM WAITING in the jetway in New Orleans with a young passenger and her mother. A motorized wheelchair will be brought up from the cargo hold for this young girl. She has very closely cropped hair,

IT IS LATE and we are serving dinner on a flight from Frankfurt, Germany to the USA. The food catered out of Germany is delicious, crispy schnitzel with fluffy mashed potatoes,

I AM DRINKING in the Officers Club on Kadena Air Force Base in Okinawa, Japan. I am with my flight attendant crew, having worked a military charter the day before, bringing troops and their dependents to Japan.

I AM WALKING through the fish market in Nagoya, Japan with my guide Takako. I got up early, met her at 7 am, the better to watch the activity in the bustling market. This fish market is more accessible

I AM LOOKING at the menu in a little restaurant in Doha, Qatar. I wanted local food so my hotel suggested this Yemeni place on the fringes of the souk, the bustling marketplace found in every Middle Eastern city.