Whitefish Dog and Home

Things You Don’t Always See…

This past weekend as I paused to think about all of the sacrifices made to make our country what it is, I was reminded of my days flying for the Civil Reserve Air Fleet. It was an amazing experience I will never forget. I actually got my first taste of international flying when I was still living in Montana and flying out of Salt Lake. The Gulf Wars were just getting hot and the government activated the Civil Reserve Air Fleet, or CRAF for short. I volunteered to do my part.

CRAF is a mobility resource for the US DOD. Selected aircraft from US airlines are contractually committed to support the DOD airlift requirements if the need for airlift exceeds the capability of military aircraft alone. Usually due to time constraints. This was the situation in the Gulf Wars.

My airline was part of the airlift and designated L1011s, MD11s and 767s were used to transport troops to Kuwait City to stage for assignment. Working those flights was voluntary. I volunteered. I had never served my country in the military, and thought this might be some small way of contributing. A lot of my colleagues felt the same way and it was a great privilege and honor to work those flights. They were like nothing I had ever done though, and it started with training.

Fitting Mask (2)

We had to fully understand the scope of our mission, the strict chain of command and the rapid deployment of a chem-suit we would be issued on board for our time on the ground in Kuwait. Oh good! I LOVE new uniform pieces! It was all very sobering and made it completely clear that we were not going to Kansas. We all had more than 20 years of seniority, we didn’t scare easily.

The trips started rolling out and I finally got called. I was living in Montana at the time so I had to deadhead to Atlanta to pick up the trip and meet my crew. There were crew members from all bases, but I was the only one from Salt Lake. Most were from New York and Atlanta, our big international bases. Another was from LAX, and then myself. Every base has a distinct personality and follows its own beat to a certain extent. Atlanta and New York were very “by the book” on SOPs and protocols and had the strictest supervisors and oversight. Things relaxed as you headed west shall we say.

I had given my typical uniform attire no second thought even though I was headed to Mecca (Atlanta) so when I walked into the briefing and the FA in charge said “Oh! You must be our Salt Lake girl!” I knew exactly what she was getting at but innocently chirped: “Yes! Thank you for welcoming me.”

I ignored the inference to my backpack casually slung over one shoulder and Dansko clogs paired with opaque black tights, looking like I had just stepped out of an REI catalog. The few tight grins broke into broad smiles when “Oh hello LAX!” walked into the room, with a skirt 3” above her knees, still wearing her sunglasses 2 flights below ground. Yes, this melting pot concept was working out quite well…

The way it would work is one crew would fly the troops the first 10 hour leg to Rome, do a tech stop for fuel and crew change, and then the next crew that had been positioned in Rome would fly them downrange. We were never allowed to speak of where we were going. Anywhere. So this first leg we were flying troops to Rome and we would stay for 24 hours and wait for another flight to come in and then take that one downrange. We did not stay in the usual crew hotel. We did not wear crew outerwear but wore personal coats. We did not leave the hotel and move about in a swarm, instead we never moved about in groups larger than two. We became invisible. Don’t get me wrong, I still fell in love with Rome! Just discreetly. The troops, however, did not. They were on the ground for an hour or so and stairs were rolled up to the plane. They would line those stairs to get a quick smoke in. The deal with Italy was that our troops could not touch Italian soil, so they could not leave those steps. Bless, those guys, not one ever tried and we never had to ask twice.

We would decorate inside the plane to let the men and women know how much we appreciated their efforts and honor them. We spoiled them like our kids and felt such love for each one. It was surreal though on that first flight, asking to clear the aisle of all weapons and grenade launchers so we might come through with the carts to serve a meal. That was a new announcement on me, but I’ll tell you, those folks were TRAINED! In less than 5 seconds those aisles were clear. I was flabbergasted. I’m used to people on vacation ignoring me. WOW!

Guns at Bulkhead (2)

When we landed in Rome, anyone heading out on the stairs for a smoke had to leave their sidearms on the seat as they went by. Just another reminder that we weren’t on our way to Kansas…

Things you don’t always see…

New Day, New Flight Plan

colosseum

After an amazing 24 hours in Rome where I fell in love with Italy, Italians, and international travel it was time to get down to business. Let me put this in perspective for you, in case you wonder if your cool crew that looks like they have been there and done that forever, ever did it all a first time, oh yes we did…

When we were taking the crew bus to the hotel from the airport we drove right past the Colosseum, as one does, on the way into town. It was too much for me. I jumped up out of my seat and cried “F*ck me! It’s the Colosseum!!”

Our fearless leader from New York turned around and in her icy German accent quietly asked: “First time in Rome, Montana?”

Ya think?!

Our hotel was not the usual crew hotel and was directly across the street from the US Embassy. We were greeted with Prosecco (NOT SOP for airline crews) and checked in. Upon entering my room in this beautiful old Italian building I was struck by the gorgeous bathroom and all of the…

Italian Marble!!! I did laugh at myself on that one.

The sheets on the bed were actual linen, like clothes you would wear. I felt like such a goober.

We had a great time exploring Rome and then a very serous final briefing before heading downrange. It seemed things were heating up and we needed to be alert and maintain a high state of situational awareness as we approached and for the 4 hours we would sit on the ground while the troops would offload their equipment. Copy that.

Copy (2) of DSC00380

We boarded our aircraft and got all onboard weapons stowed. Boarding was interesting and I asked about the hierarchy out of curiosity. Being the military, there was definitely a system. Officers, the Chaplain and the Snipers sat in first class.The Snipers sat in front. That was sobering. I didn’t ask. I just decided I might want to sit further back. This is what it looked like to look out into the main cabin when we were ready to go:

All of C-zone (2)

We all felt a huge responsibility to every face looking back at us. They were a part of us now. The guys and ladies were amazing. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but the overwhelming respect and courtesy was something I had never experienced in my 20+ years of flying and I would have laid my life down for them at that point. They were grateful for every little thing we gave them and kind to a fault.

I wanted to do something for them, so during the 10 hour flight I waded through the sea of camouflage and took pictures of smaller groups. I would get the names of each soldier in the group and any emails they wanted me to send the pictures to. During my 10 hour empty flight back I prepared over 100 emails and sent them to families back home, sending one last glimpse of their baby on their way to war and one last goodbye. I also sent shots of them deplaning and heading off into the desert so they could see where they were. Pictures on the flightline were forbidden, so don’t tell anyone ok?

C-man and Lead Man (2)

As we approached Kuwait City we were given the signal to go dark. All CRAF flights were operated under the cover of darkness, but we turned off any and all lights outside and inside the aircraft. Everyone would know exactly why a US flag carrier was flying into Kuwait while we’re threatening Shock and Awe, so there’s no use lighting us up and putting a target on us. We had to make a simple, calm announcement to lower all window shades. Now I don’t know if any of you have noticed the haphazard compliance with this request on a vacation flight when we are going to show a movie back in the old days, but when we made that announcement with the troops those shades snapped down before the announcement was over. Done. Our jaws dropped.

Flight attendants strapped our chem suits around our waists, which would not come off until we cleared the local airspace upon departure, did a final check of the cabin and took our jumpseats for landing.

I sat on my jumpseat in the dark with almost 300 troops piercing through the night towards a war zone and I had a vision of another plane doing the same thing coming from the other direction with warriors who would fight these men and women and a tear escaped. What were we doing?? I had to hold it together. What were they thinking? Were they scared?

We touched down and even before we finished the rollout I got my answer. The song started with a few but caught on fast and by the time it got to the chorus that plane was rocking. It was Toby Keith’s “The Angry American” and they were pounding their fists when they got to “We’ll put a boot in your ass, it’s the American Way!”

I was so proud!! We all clapped. Those kids were going to do all right.

In the landing PA, our lead flight attendant added at the end that we love to hug, so if anybody needed one last hug from home as they left to just ask any one of us. We were all standing and saying goodbye and shaking hands and this one, very large gentleman who looked just like Michael Clarke Duncan from The Green Mile stopped in front of 5’1” 105lb me and said: “Ma’am, I think I need one of those hugs.” He even had the voice! Well I latched on to his waist and hugged that big guy with his sidearm in my face and cried like a baby.

And off they went…

Boots On The Ground

After we delivered our precious human cargo at the destination in the Middle East, we pretty much hung around for the next four hours while the troops unloaded all of their gear from the cargo hold. As expected it was a well-organized military operation performed with precision. Our job was primarily to stay out of the way and out of sight. With temperatures hovering around 121 degrees outside and a fine dust that permeated you through your pores, it was easy to stay on the aircraft. To think of all of them experiencing physical exertion in these conditions was sobering. Just to step outside would make your breath stop from the heat until you would start coughing from the dust and blowing sand. It was harsh and it was night!

That first night it didn’t take long after we landed for the Scud Missiles to start flying. We were just getting used to the reminder that we shouldn’t even take off our chem suites (the packed ones strapped to our hips, we didn’t put them on) even in the bathroom when the tracers lit up the sky. You know, I had seen that on CNN so many times and I knew we were flying in close to the situation, but the sh*t got real at that point. Oddly, after a while, we went out on the steps of the plane to watch. Like it was some fireworks display or something. The mind does crazy things to calm itself down.

Eventually we settled in for some rest and to read and such, when in pops a young man bringing us gifts!! We were quite taken aback, but delighted to see him. The young man gave each of us a “Starbucks Kuwait City” Mug! I kid you not. It was so surreal to be in the Middle East with Scuds flying by and get a Starbucks mug like I had gone to Disneyland. Shut me right down.

stbux

When the troops were finished with unloading the plane and loading up their vehicles, their commander stopped up to say goodbye and thank us for the ride. That first group was part of the 4^th Infantry Forward Support Battalion and he awarded each of us a Challenge Coin from their Battalion. I think that was the proudest day of my career. I felt like we had made a difference. I pray to this day that every one of those men and women came home as strong as the day we dropped them off.

CRAF and 4th Battalion Infantry Challenge Coins

Then we turned off the lights, fired up the engines and headed North. We had no idea what was about to happen behind us or ahead of us, the sky can be so peaceful.

Shock and Awe

We landed back in Rome and left the airport quickly after a 24 hour night, anxious to get back to our hotel. We didn’t really stop along the way to chat or notice much, we kept to ourselves and our own thoughts. The bus driver was quiet.

Traffic was crazy that late afternoon and practically stopped near our hotel across from the US Embassy. The pilots had heard chatter on the radio on the way back that the war had started and turned hot. That was a big gulp moment. As we approached our hotel we saw it. Protesters were filling the streets around the Embassy protesting the US attack in the Middle East. You could hear a pin drop on that bus as we all went deep in our thoughts.

largest-protest-2

Crowds fill the streets of Rome to Protest Iraq War

Thankfully we did not have crew outerwear and no real luggage so we got out a block away and split up and trickled into the hotel discreetly. We were able to just slip back into our rooms and catch up. Our trip coordinator scheduled a debriefing in an hour in our private crew room in the hotel. We were fortunate to have a private meeting space on the first floor to unwind and brief/debrief in privacy. It was just a conference room, but even those can be lovely in a fine Italian hotel.

As we debriefed and discussed the events of the mission, we could all hear the chanting and beat out on the street. My respect for foreign news correspondents grew. How often had I just switched on the TV and watched them stand amidst a crowd of hostile protesters and boldly tell the story to show us what others think?

I would be lying if I told you it wasn’t unnerving to look anger in the eyes, knowing that anger is for you, even if it wasn’t you personally. I don’t remember really even breathing as I brushed against people trying to get back into the hotel. We decided to stay in that night and ate in our briefing room. We ate too well. We may have been over-served. We slept poorly. We were changed on many levels. I knew I had to go back.

Got Jumper Cables?

The day finally came. This is what I had been waiting for from the day I started those missions; the day we would start bringing those soldiers home. It felt odd to us to deadhead over to Rome and then fly a huge empty MD11 the 10 hours down to Kuwait. We were excited.

The advance crew arrived and started loading cargo and equipment on board in a reverse operation of the arrival process. Finally some buses pulled up and that was our signal to fire up the engines and begin our preparations for departure. That’s when I learned the true meaning of the term SNAFU from the Military origin.

Plane wouldn’t start.

What????

Can’t get her to turn over.

Maybe you flooded it? Wait a minute and try again.

Our mechanics and technicians that we brought on board with us as part of the team for our mission for just this sort of situation got to work.

Nope, battery was dead.

Four large buses had to turn around and drive back into the desert. Our hearts were broken for those troops. Turns out batteries for the older MD11 weren’t just available everywhere and there wasn’t a NAPA plane parts down the street in Kuwait City next to that Starbucks so we were out of luck. They finally found one in Frankfurt. Probably could get it there tomorrow.

So for those of you wondering what a dead aircraft battery looks like, it looks amazingly similar to a dead car battery:

Due to the local situation, tourism had not really been a thing in the area during that time period so hotel options were sparse and security considerations were many. The decision was finally made to secure the aircraft and the crew at the hotel at the airport (I mean AT the airport) for the night. None of us had anything with us for an overnight stay, so the General on base kindly sent over some SUVs and escorted us into the airport to the duty free shop (that amused me) where we could pick up essentials. He was enormously kind and quite gracious about our embarrassment.

Walking in the airport was unnerving. The few women we saw were in full Burkas, while we wore skirts. I felt so disrespectful. When we trained we were advised to wear pants, but we had gotten slack about that since we never left the aircraft and it was so hot over there. I wished I had taken a blanket from the plane to wrap around my legs. We scuttled in and out quickly. For those of you keeping count, this was the second time in my career I had deeply regretted wearing a skirt.

When we got to the hotel, the first thing we had to do was put our things through a scanner like you do in security screening. I was thinking they were checking for weapons but was told they check to see if you are trying to smuggle in alcohol.

Things were different in the lobby. There was a hookah lounge. Nope, we’re not in Kansas. We just took it all in and accepted their very kind hospitality. They said they would open the restaurant for us. We appeared to be the only ones there. Of course, given what had been going on, there weren’t lots of folks traveling for pleasure through this airport at that time. We agreed to meet back downstairs to eat in an hour.

The room was… minimalist. It was clean. I knew to be grateful. Well here, this is it:

I strolled over to take a look at my view (which cautioned me with a bold sticker to not take pictures) and there she was, Dad had parked the car right outside just like when we were kids at the Holiday Inn!

There were some nice men keeping her company and watching our wing of the hotel:

Gee I felt good. I stepped out in the hall to find my exits and found this intriguing sign:

I learned that was the warning sign for the gathering place in case of a chemical attack. Well now you learn something new every day, and I felt better knowing my room was directly across the hall from that. Oh yes I did. And then what? You circle the drain from there????

So after cleaning up as best I could, I headed downstairs to meet the rest of the crew. The menu was limited but we were hungry and placed our orders. The food arrived and everyone dove in. Chewing, chewing and oh my goodness chewing.

Finally someone said it: “Tastes like camel!”

Everything tasted like camel. I’m a vegetarian and mine was chewy like camel jerky. We dissolved in fits of laughter and enjoyed our water (wishing heartily it would change into wine) and then returned to our rooms. Only pure exhaustion allowed us to sleep that night and we awoke to a new day and hopes of a new MD11 battery.

Homeward Bound

Finally with a fresh new battery on board and a planeload of tired, spent soldiers we were ready to point our nose towards the long journey home. Things were different than we all imagined right from the initial boarding process. Our crew was in full pep rally mode and had the aircraft decorated to welcome everyone. We had special treats on board we thought they might enjoy after a long haul in the desert. We were excited.

It didn’t take long for us to realize that this was a pretty subdued group joining us. We fell in with them and helped everyone get comfortable and got on our way.

As we were preparing to serve meals we discussed the hush in the cabin, hoping they were just overwhelmingly exhausted. There were a few here and there who were clearly joyous to be headed home, but there were a lot of vacant stares and heads down on backpacks. About half of them ate and then settled in for some quiet.

During the long night I got some insight into the mood on board. Some of those who couldn’t sleep wandered back to the galley and drank coffee and talked. It was great and I knew they just needed someone fresh to tell their story to. Some of the stories I heard, I suspected they were unloading on a safe person before they got to family because I don’t think they would share those with Mom.

One soldier who made an enormous impression on me and showed me the invisible wounds of war, came back with his laptop. He stood in the galley talking to me for over an hour, drinking black coffee and showing me pictures of his time spent over there. It was surreal. I had to mentally step back so I could maintain a calm composure and be a good listener for that young man because I can assure you he was not showing pictures of summer camp. I realized it did not occur to him that none of us had seen anything like that on CNN.

In his mind, he was just telling the story and showing pictures. He had to get it out.

I realized with immense sadness that we had taken aircraft full of enthusiastic, excited young kids over there and now were carrying home truly wounded warriors. That price that we cannot see must never be overlooked. Our thanks at the end of the flight were not enough. There are no pictures to show of this flight. It was an individual journey for each soul on board.

The Show

The Gulf Wars took their toll on the airline industry and the infrastructure was adjusted such that it was no longer easy to commute from Montana to Salt Lake City, so I finally bit the bullet and changed my base to Atlanta and headed south. In this way the aviation industry is a lot like the military. We stay flexible and go where the work is. I got a taste of international flying during the CRAF trips and I liked it. I wanted to explore the world and our Atlanta base had most of our international trips.

One of my first trips out of my new base was revealing, on so many levels. I was scheduled to fly to Johannesburg, South Africa from Atlanta. I was really looking forward to exploring the world now! At that time we were operating the trip on our extended range 767, so we had to make a tech stop in Dakar where there would be a crew exchange and the plane would refuel in normal operations. I had done the trip that way. This time would be different since there was going to be a major Islamic conference in the city and hotels were booked. We would stop out on the Cape Verde Islands instead. Well this sounded interesting. One of my good friends from my initial flight attendant class who wasn’t working the trip decided to tag along to check out the islands off of Africa for free. We were staying in an all-inclusive resort. Woohooooo!

By then I had been flying for over 25 years and I don’t know why I conjured up a picture of “Sandals” in my mind. I knew better.

We arrived on a small, scrub island and I was struck that the more places you go the more places you’ve been. By that I mean, I could have just landed in Aruba or Curacao. Same scrub and dry wind, different location. Off to our “resort” that had the most lovely decoration on the walls surrounding the property and each individual patio. Tall concrete walls painted a bright sunny mustard yellow with broken wine bottles on top. How creative and artistic, I chose to think.

We checked in and headed out to the beach area where we discovered that this was reportedly the wind surfing capital of the world. What a beautiful sight to watch all of the bright kites dotting the sky on a breezy day. I learned this is also where many of our hurricanes originate their trek towards us every Summer into Fall. It was easy to imagine.

kites

As my friend and I headed back up for some dinner before the early flight to Johannesburg, we noticed a few of our younger crew mates heartily enjoying the all inclusive feature of the hotel by the pool and had a laugh. It was going to be an early morning for them, ahhhhh to be young.

The next morning I went in to grab a quick coffee in the dining room and there were still stragglers (hopefully not early risers?) at the 24/7 beer dispenser. I think I threw up a little in my mouth, but kept focused on the coffee and headed back out to the lobby to wait for the entire crew to appear for departure.

In aviation, 10 minutes early is on time. The Captain sets a departure time for the crew bus to leave for the airport and that means luggage and butt on the bus at that time. The wheels on the bus go round-and-round at that time for those who need that concept simplified. There is no fashionably late.

As we hit the 10 minute outer marker, we were still missing one crew member. This did not come as a complete surprise to many of us who had noticed that by late afternoon the day before her bikini top had become restrictive and she was entertaining some private jet pilots with her southern charm by the pool, quite unrestricted. Our crew leader, a rather strong man with a flamboyant flair called her room. No answer. We thought she must be on her way down. Nope.

He tried her cell phone. No answer. Well now we are worried about a fellow crew member in a foreign country etc., etc. so he headed up to her room to knock on her door.

When he returned a few minutes later he advised that she seemed to be under the weather. Actually, after much scuffling and mumbling behind the door, said door was thrown open and there she was wearing our coat-dress uniform, unbuttoned, which she proceeded to flash wide open and proclaim:

TA-DAAAAAAAAA!!!!

Not a stitch on under that dress of course. Our crew leader looked at the private pilot behind the door and told him to get her dressed and downstairs in 2 minutes.

We were just finishing loading up the bus and we senior crew members were huddling on options when that poor pilot dragged our colleague down to the bus. He tried to help her into the bus but she couldn’t handle the steps, so he propped her up at the door and brought her luggage to the back. You could have heard a pin drop. We had a situation. This was not the good old days. We could not put her in a seat and strap her in and get her to the next stop. We couldn’t even get her through the airport without CNN getting video of it. She had to stay. There were huge considerations involved with leaving her in Africa alone, but we had no choice. Fortunately, my friend could step in and take her place since the flights were full.

So this is flying international?? I thought. And they always made a big deal about how wayward we were in the bases out West. Pfffffft. That had us beat by a long shot! And my flying education continued.

Fridays in Tel Aviv

My next stop on the international educational tour was Tel Aviv. It just felt easier. The irony of that was not lost on me, what with attacks from Gaza on a regular basis and a new crew hotel because the old one got shelled…

I just grew weary of having to use bottled water to even spit (Dakar) and not leaving my hotel unless is was daytime with an escort (Johannesburg.) So let’s take it down a notch and learn about Tel Aviv, I heard it was beautiful.

The reports did not lie. There was beauty and history everywhere in Tel Aviv and the people were rich in culture. Our new hotel was fabulous which was in direct proportion to how high the security level must have been. It was not for our comfort. We were across the street from the azure waters of the Mediterranean Sea and a beach that sprawled forever. Nice.

After meeting the crew downstairs for some beverages and snacks, a few of us headed out. I learned right away that what I thought was Hummus did not at all resemble the real thing and I was ruined for fresh Hummus forever. I admit, the food was incredible. A few of my friends who flew Tel Aviv all of the time introduced me to some of the greatest family restaurants in the heart of the city.

We went through the Shuk HaCarmel (Carmel Market) which is an incredible experience just for the pure humanity of it. I was like a kid marveling at every thing and every person. The inability to understand a foreign language sharpens your observation skills, and I quietly watched as this slice of life unfolded before me.

As we continued towards the beach, I began noticing things that were different there to allow locals to have a normal daily life under the constant threat of attack that we did not have here. I realized the streets were lined with concrete columns, painted to blend, to help prevent vehicle attacks. There was a very clear military presence in the background (not unarmed security guards.)

The sirens on top of the palapas on the beach really let me know that everyday life was very different here:

We ended our beautiful tour and headed back to the hotel. I approached the elevator and hit a button and the doors on the far right opened and both of my friends grabbed my arm and told me: “No! It’s Friday!!”

Ok, and???

It was then that I learned about Shabbat. From sundown on Friday to sundown on Saturday, the elevator on the right was the designated elevator for those observing Shabbat. I wanted to know more about this.

The last elevator would stop at every floor automatically (and there were over 30) during Shabbat. In Jewish law, Shabbat is considered a day of rest and there is a set of complex rules (and modern solutions) to ensure that the devout rest. Riding in a vehicle or turning anything on or off is forbidden. By using the designated elevator, observers may simply be transported floor-by-floor to their destination without touching a button.

Trust me, unless you had to use that elevator, you did not want to head up to the 27^th floor on it on a Friday night. The education continued!

Yabba Dabba Dubai!

Ultra long range flying is attractive to flight attendants because we are only paid for the time after we push back from the gate until we land. We get a base rate of pay (less than minimum wage) and then we make an hourly rate per flight hour based on our seniority. A lot of us liked the long haul flights because you can pack a lot of flying into 3 days and then get to fly fewer days in the month, allowing more time off. With ATL-DXB coming in around 16:30 hours of flight time each way compared to just over 8 hours ATL-London, it was harder on the body but the time off was better.

So off to Dubai I went to check out that part of the Middle East. I anticipated it would be substantially different than visiting Kuwait on the eve of the Gulf War, and final approach confirmed my suspicions.

Palm

By the time our crew bus arrived at our hotel after mingling in substantial traffic with Rolls Royces, Bentleys and Maybachs, past tall mirrored buildings boasting ski resorts inside, it felt more like Las Vegas on steroids. Oil had been very very good to them.

dubsky

Our hotel was beautiful, since just about everything is new there. It was attached to a stunning mall and athletic complex so you really never had to go outdoors when the heat of summer cranked up. Due to the length of the flight, this was not a big trip for crew socializing. By the time you had signed in 2 hours pre-departure and briefed and prepped the aircraft, flown for over 16 hours and then spent another hour deplaning and getting to the hotel, you were pushing past the 20 hour mark when you saw that bed in your room. A lot of us would change quickly into something modest and respectful and head over to the attached mall that housed a fabulous Carrefour store. That thing was the size of an indoor football stadium at least, and packed with every imaginable item you could want. It was the Shuk in Tel Aviv with burlap sacks of fresh spices and rows of fresh vegetable stands, combined with Whole Foods and Super Target. I would usually grab some fresh dates, hummus, pita and fruit and head back to my room just glowing with joy. Yes, those are the things that your flight crew member craves in every city. We call that a hot spot!

carrefour2 carrefour3

One week we arrived on the first day of Ramadan. The flight was packed and it was wicked hot out so when we got to the hotel we did not want to head out in the heat with more people. We had been briefed on the condensed version of what to expect during Ramadan, but it really hit home when Carrefour was not open. OK, that was the information we really needed in briefing.

I decided to use my time until sundown (during the month it is required that you fast every day from sunrise to sundown) in my room with my water behind closed doors quite privately and take some time for introspection to learn more about Ramadan. The fasting actually had a very pure and inspirational meaning. By fasting, people were allowed more time away from worldly activities and events and spend time reflecting and freeing themselves from impurities. Muslims believe that Ramadan teaches self-discipline and empathy for those who have less and encourages acts of charity. To develop compassion towards those who are poor and in need.

That was something I absolutely loved about immersing myself in other countries and cultures and learning what their beliefs were actually based on.

I dozed quietly feeling a little guilty for drinking the water and woke hours later to the sound of the sunset Call to Prayer.

The next night as we arrived at the airport, our crew realized why our airline would eventually pull out of the UAE, but it was just business as usual at the time. We were all held up at security and immigration due to some “paperwork discrepancies.” The pilots were escorted away and the rest of us knew to sit quietly and ask no questions as we were guests in a very foreign country. About a half hour later our pilots returned and we all proceeded per usual to our aircraft. I learned that every time we departed Dubai, our large commercial airline (and all others no doubt) had to pay a hefty fee on the day of departure pretty much off the record, if you get my drift. It seems that day either the transaction got held up or they decided they wanted more (because they could) and hence the delay. The Captain’s Amex was going to light up with that charge in the middle of the night don’t ya know…

There it was, my career was pretty much about delays and education. That kind of sums it up!

When we arrived at the gate, a painfully obvious Air Marshall tried to discreetly sidetrack us and brief us. It seemed Ramadan was open season for terrorist activity and we had a threat on our aircraft. We did not want to use local law enforcement or military so the job of searching and clearing the aircraft for departure was on us. We had been trained for this and updated that training annually as methods developed and advanced, but that was training.

In Montana, we had a saying:

When it comes to breakfast: the chicken is involved, the pig is committed.

We were there and we were now the pigs. No time or use to ask to be replaced, just suit up and do it.

So you guessed it, delay.

We searched every item (I’m not going to go into detail, but yes, EVERY item) and space on that aircraft. Then we let a dog go through.

I kept thinking, first guy who complains about his meal getting cold is wearing it. I did not sign up for bomb tech without a helmet.

Delays, education and glamour. I wouldn’t trade it!!

Coffee, Tea or Farsi?

I was reminded by a close friend of the subtle differences between life in the UAE and what we are accustomed to. Her observations were quite astute and things that had struck US flight crews immediately. The sheer beauty and elegance of an Emirates flight crew in motion, particularly in the UAE, was notable.

Emrcrew

My friend flew through Dubai on Emirates and had a lovely experience, of course, but could tell there was an untold backstory. Her dog is part of the surfing sensation down here in Southern California, and she had taken a cutout of him along on the journey as an ambassador. He has a large international following. What I love, and all of us do, is that she and her husband were seated across from the flight attendant at a bulkhead and engaged her in conversation like a normal human being. This may come as a shock but hardly anybody speaks to us like people. It gets lonely up there.

The dog cutout broke the ice, and they chatted during the long flight. The flight attendant seemed almost wistful as she joyfully posed with the dog for a picture, having lived in a compound for flight attendants since taking the job.

Turbo

It is a prestigious position, but highly regimented. They don and remove their hats in unison during flight for different phases of flight. Their shoes and lipstick all match. I had to admit that she would be likely to see a flight attendant from my airline come down from crew rest with her hair up in a scrunchy, wearing her jammie pants to make a run for the lav. It’s ok, nobody ever recognizes us because nobody ever really looks at us, so without the uniform we are anybody!

Emirates flight attendants are a vision of composure at all times. When you see them walking through an airport it is impressive. The pilots walk in the front of the line, followed by the flight attendants in silent single file according to height.

Then there would be our crew wearing 3 different styles of uniform, calling back and forth to see who’s stopping for coffee or duty free. Less impressive.

That elegance comes at a price. They begin their career living in a highly supervised and regulated company housing unit. No wild parties, no drinking. You are released if you get pregnant and if you get pregnant outside of wedlock you get deported. So there’s that. And please don’t do a knee-jerk complaint to the airline like you might in the US if your feelings get hurt. That could cost your attendant profit sharing, paychecks and of course their job. I doubt that’s what you really intend when all you hoped for was an attitude adjustment.

Learning all of this made me grateful for our way of life and made me thirsty to learn more about life in these far reaches of the world.

On one flight down to Dubai during the Hajj, we had been briefed to be extra respectful of prayer customs while remembering our training during this important time in the region. I admit it took great courage to turn over our entire aft galley to a group of men when they had to pray and face Mecca. We stayed a respectful distance for privacy and I watched covertly, with great interest, this sacred ritual. At the same time, my heart was pounding and all of my nerves were ready. It was difficult to let that many folks gather and murmur in a foreign language. They finished and bowed deeply and returned to their seats. Our crew returned to our galley just a little enlightened.

Flights have a lot of moving parts and that one was no different. Almost an hour later, an older woman came back to the galley with her husband, in absolute distress. She was quite emotional and waving her hands while speaking rapidly in another language. Those flights carried a lot of American Military contract workers back and forth through the Middle East, and one who stopped back for coffee picked up a few words and told us she thought her husband was having a heart attack. We asked what language she was speaking and he told us she was speaking Farsi.

I was ignorant of the implications, so casually paged for anyone on the flight who could speak Farsi to help us out in the aft galley. Almost before the PA was over, one of our Sky Marshalls showed up and “asked for coffee.”

Still clueless, I poured him coffee and he started asking what the situation was with the man and woman. He asked about the Farsi. I was curious why he had stepped in. Then he told me Farsi was the language of Iran. Ohhhhhhhhhhh. We were already taking extra precautions because a medical emergency can be a diversion and we needed to heighten our situational awareness throughout the cabin when dealing with extraordinary circumstances. This added a new element to consider.

Finally a Farsi speaker appeared, and it turned out the woman was really working it hard. She thought her husband would feel better if he could be made comfortable in First Class for the rest of the flight. Came down to she was not moving and he was going to lay prone in the galley or move to First Class.

Our Sky Marshall convinced her otherwise and miraculously her husband improved.

DLFC

Turns out scamming for an upgrade is an international skill and universal desire.