Day 1: LEAVING ON A JET PLANE

(to England, and I’ll be back on December 11)

I waited in line at the Newark Airport. A man in a suit walked over. He made an announcement. He suggested, we should “straighten up the queue.”

This, was my first London experience.


Credit: Matt Levin / A "queue" of SUAbroad students at the Newark Airport

I imagined my first abroad experience would be my first-ever mid-flight meal, somewhere above the Atlantic Ocean. But maybe that was just because I was starving.

A hectic morning of last-minute packing in Palm City, Florida left me with little time to eat. And what I did eat didn’t exactly sit well with my stomach.

My breakfast: At 8 a.m. I downed a N.O.S. energy drink and half a Hershey bar (with almonds) and rushed out the door.
My lunch: Nothing.
My dinner: My breakfast.

So that’s why I was looking forward to the often dreaded mid-flight meal. But the British Airways clerk’s “queue” of close to 100 SU students was a much more pleasant introduction to Great Britain. Mainly it was that accent.

And, anyways, the mid-flight meal was disgusting.

So back to the accent. It would be un-American of me, if I didn’t spend my first blog entry about London fawning over the British accent.

It’s just so damn charming. Safety instructions on the flight sounded refreshing. The pilot sounded jolly instead of the usual monotone. Even my chicken-and-rice meal sounded less repulsive when the flight attendant first propositioned me with it.

The six-hour flight wasn’t too terrible either. I’ve never feared flying. I’ve also never flown across the pond before. My stomach was feeling a bit strange (hmm, might’ve been the breakfast again) before take-off. Luckily, British Airways offered free episodes of Flight of the Conchords* and Pong to calm* my nerves.

I slept through half the flight. I awoke—in the future. After drifting off to sleep at midnight, I woke up two hours later. It was 7 a.m.

Resting in front of me was an empty plastic cup, a dry salad* and some hardened rice. Also, the remains of some sugary, grotesque dessert. Ew.

A flight attendant walked by. Hefty bag in hand. “May I take your rubbish.”

Enchanting. What a delightful word for trash.

It was a superficial start to my four-month journey. But after forgoing sleep the night before, scuttling through two hectic airports, skipping multiple meals and finally arriving in a foreign land—rubbish was exactly what I wanted to hear.

Opposed to, you know, the usual garbage.

--
Foot notes (not to be confused with soccer)
*Kiwi accents are equally charming. I need to practice mine.

*One other source of entertainment were the songs stuck in my head. I lack an iPod, but throughout the trip three songs kept going through my head as I jostled from one continent to another.
The three songs, so randomly, ingrained in my head:
‘Til Tuesday – “Voices Carry”
Metallica – “Seek and Destroy”
Random Bollywood singers — “Beni Lava”

*Mainly just lettuce. And a massive tomato. Not sure if it even qualifies as a salad?