In the past three months I’ve been on 12 different planes so I’d like to share some traveling tips that I have found helpful and made my miserable stays onboard or in airports bare-able.
1. Drink as much water as possible. The air is super dry and it’s better to stay hydrated than not pee.
2. Bring a shoulder pillow, sleeping mask, ear plugs, Benadryl, an empty water bottle to fill on the plane, and your own headphones.
3. Save the headphones that they give you for free on flights. Many times you need a two prong adapter and on domestic flights they don’t give these to you for free.
4. Wear enough warm clothes because the cabins are usually freezing. Scarves can double as blankets.
5. If it isn’t a full flight and there are empty rows, jump at the chance to grab them! This is valuable real estate because it means you can lie down and your feet won’t be as swollen.
6. Don’t wear a belt. Some airlines take extra security measures and you might have to go through a metal detector at multiple security check points.
7. Pack a lunch. American airlines are cutting costs and don’t provide meals on domestic flights less than 6 hours or even provide enough food at all. Plus airport food is gross and expensive.
8. The air is really dry on a plane so lotion, chapstick, and cough drops help.
9. If you have a long layover and are planning on bringing your computer, load a movie onto your flash drive or splurge on a 5 dollar cup of Lipton tea at the internet café to make the time go by faster.
10. If you’re arriving at your destination in the evening, try not to sleep on the plane to avoid too many issues with jetlag. It you’re arriving in the morning, sleep as much as you can.
For those who don’t know, I was back home in Berkeley last week for my grandfather’s funeral. We were tight and it was the right thing to do for me, for him, and for my family. It was the much needed closure that would have eventually happened if I stayed in Neftchala but being able to be with my family brought a greater sense of healing. This is the third time that I’ve left home thinking that I wouldn’t return again in the next two years (which this time, is probably as true as it’s going to get.) And while it is easier to say goodbye and step on that plane, it doesn’t make it less difficult. Somewhere in between New York and Istanbul, I found myself wetting my sleeping mask with falling tears over a combination of the permanent loss of my grandfather, the temporary loss of Nate, and a deep sense of yearning for a life that I can’t have for two years but loved so much for 23. Don’t get me wrong, I love what I am doing here and wouldn’t trade it for anything right now, but the reminder of being in the company of people who know me best was comforting and I miss that feeling of connection, contentment, and security. So here I am, starting over again, hoping for the best like always.
Second part of this entry, as requested by my dear Uncle Bill, is less of Mimi Chan (get it Me Me) with a cultural note about public transportation as I saw it during PST. Hope it gives you a better sense of the organized chaos of getting from Point A to Point B. On Avtobuslar…
As far as I can tell there are about four different kinds of buses in Azerbaijan. They used to really intimidate me but since I had to take at least four buses everyday during PST, I got a little more comfortable riding them. The buses here aren’t just a mode of transportation, it’s a complete facet of Azerbaijani culture.
First kind of bus: The Big Highway Bus
These look similar to the Grey Hounds we have at home. Big, spacey, lots of seats, very new. They go back and forth between Sumqayit and Baku and come every ten minutes or so. They only stop at the front of each town in between.
Second Kind: Big Mashrutka
These are the local buses, the ones that go between and through the back streets between towns. These look like your standard old buses. The insides have seats but also a lot of room for standing with poles running along the length so that passengers can death grip as the driver swerves and brakes around cars. Another defining feature, is the man that stands in front of the door that collects your money and tells the driver when to stop. He has your change and he’s the one you tell when you want to get off and he in turn, yells it up to the driver. He has no uniform or distinguishing feature. You just kind of have to know that he’s the one you give your 30 qepik to. Sometimes he’ll collect money from everyone starting at the end of the bus and wedges himself back up to the front. And sometimes, he’s not on the bus the whole time. The driver might stop in the middle to pick him up and that’s when he starts his shift.
Third Kind: Small Mashrutka
These are just smaller versions of the big ones. Usually a collumn of seats on the driver side and a row in the back. But these look more like longer versions of serial killer vans. There’s also no money collector man.
Fourth Kind: Sitting section only Mashrutka:
These for me are the most intimidating. They are like the long serial killer vans but there are many seats and only allow for one standing passenger. There is an aisle but when all the chairs are full, folding seats are pushed down to fill the aisle. So in order to get off the bus, the people in front of you in the aisle have to get out as well. Usually all the passengers are going to Baku so no one has to worry about trying to get out when the aisle is filed. But when I’m on, I need to get off before Baku and I hate bothering people to get out. Although part of the bus culture is, people don’t care. Also, at some point in the trip, the driver yells out something I can’t understand, and people take out their coins or bills and start handing them up to the front. While driving, the driver counts and calculates how much money is due, how much is given and by asking riders, who needs change. It’s really quite impressive the amount of multitasking that takes place.
Common features on all the buses are that men always give up their seats to all women and elderly men. Although it is not respectful for a woman to sit in the back row of the bigger buses. If you are carrying a bag, whether it’s a purse or a bag of groceries, someone sitting will always offer to hold it for you. Also buses are filled to maximum capacity. It is never a smooth ride and I am usually holding on for dear life. What I love the most about the buses though is when a mother comes on with multiple children and if there are no seats available, some nice xanim (older lady) or older gentleman, with no spoken agreement, will simply pick up the youngest of the children and hold them in their lap for the duration of their ride. The mother offers her gratitude and the child just sits there, perfectly content and unbothered by this stranger who has plucked them from their mother’s grasp. It’s all so natural and so… Azerbaijani.
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