En Route

The day screams stay in bed. I obey. Every half hour a new thunderstorm comes rolling through, darkening the sky, filling the air with torrents of rain, big blue flashes of lightening, and deep rumbling thunder. This Saturday of thunderstorms was ordered just for me. I have just returned to Germany from the United States and I don't want to get down to business until Monday. This wall of rain is my ticket to lay in bed sleeping, reading and writing.

My trip from the United States to Germany was interesting. I was supposed to take a United Airlines flight from Detroit, Michigan to Chicago, Illinois and then a Air India flight from Chicago, Illinois to Frankfurt, Germany. Thunderstorms managed to delay my flight to Chicago by an hour and a half, so my flight from Chicago to Frankfurt was switched to a United Airlines flight. I had been looking forward to experiencing an Air India flight, but I was grateful to the United Airlines agent for getting me a United Airlines flight for that same day instead of having to wait until the next day for another Air India flight. Can you imagine managing the money for an airline? Airlines have to eat the cost of passengers like me every day who had paid for a different airline but get rescheduled with a new airline. I suppose they make up the money through passengers of their own who get lost to other airlines. But even if it is a bit of give and take, the accountants have to keep track of all that. Yuck.

For as many flights as I can remember, I have not been seated in the middle section where there are something like four or five seats across. Yet again I was lucky to get a side aisle seat in the Economy Plus section (ie, extra leg room). My seatmate was a young man who I would like to think of as my European reflection. He was traveling from Windsor, Canada to Poland for a two week visit to his family and friends. Although he loves his Polish homeland, he has lived in Canada for 6 years and wants to move to California because he finds life in the Americas fascinating. He said that he tries to travel somewhere in the USA or Canada about one weekend a month. Although I am unlike this man in many, many ways, we are reflections because he is a European who came to the Americas in pursuit of a more interesting life, while I am an American who came to Europe in pursuit of a more interesting life.

Before leaving the United States I purchased the book Party of One: The Loners Manifesto, by Anneli Rufus, which I had been wanting to read for several months. I was glued to the book the entire trip and was very glad to have such a good companion along with me. When I excitedly showed my seatmate the title of the book, he asked, "So, does it teach you how to not be a loner?" No, it's a defense of loners and argues that they aren't crazy. To this he replied, "Well, people can change. They can learn to not be loners." It was with these words that he hit upon one of the main themes of the book. He was obviously not a loner and adhered to the general "nonloner mob" mentality that there is something wrong with people who enjoy doing things alone and spending time alone. I just recommended he read the book and then he'd understand that loners don't need to change.

Upon arrival in Frankfurt, several of my fellow passengers and I were baggageless. I will confess that it was kind of nice not having to drag my suitcase and duffel bag around with me as I made my way through the airport, trains, and neighborhood on my journey home. But, I missed Ling-Ling, who is my stuffed panda bear, and my toothbrush. I think my luggage got lost in the process of my flight being delayed and changed. Thankfully, it all arrived on my doorstep this morning via DHL. Ling-Ling got a big hug which lasted a few hours while we slept some more.

While waiting for my train at the Frankfurt airport I met a few English speakers. One of these was a friendly young woman with orange hair from Ireland who sat with me while we waited for our train and then sat with me for the ten minutes she was on the train. I don't usually meet Irish people, so I took the opportunity to ask her a few questions. I first wanted to know if orange hair was common in Ireland, since in the United States people always credit people with orange hair as having Irish ancestors. She said that there are a lot of Irish people with orange hair but that it is definitely a dying breed. The second burning topic was money since she mentioned paying for her plane ticket in Euros. I had been under the false impression that England and all of the other countries in that isle region had not adopted the Euro. It turns out things are a bit more complicated: England still uses the Pound, Ireland has adopted the Euro, and Northern Ireland still uses its own form of money. I asked her if she keeps a stash of each form of money for when she visits these other nearby places, but she said that she rarely visits England and Northern Ireland, so she has no need to keep their monies at the ready.

My enthusiasm for my book was not enough to keep my eyes from wanting to close on the train ride from Frankfurt to Nurnberg and I didn't even crack the book open on the trip from Nurnberg to Erlangen-Bruck because I was just too sleepy and excited to be almost home. When I arrived home my landlord gifted me a day old pretzel, and Steve gifted me dinner (delicious stuffing mixed with canned chicken and turkey) and a visit. It was good to be back.

And now it rains.