Airport Diary

me and my dad dancing at his wedding


Erika and her bridesmaids


So I am now back in Cambodia after a 2.5 week trip to America and would like to regale you all with tales of my air travel.

On my way to America I took a 6+ hour bus ride down to Phnom Penh from my site (in the NW of Cambodia for those of you unaware) to arrive at the airport 4 hours before my flight. In America that’s no big deal. You check in and then proceed through security and go hang out at some fine dining facility or something while you wait for you flight. In Cambodia it’s a bit trickier. You cannot check in at the ticket counters until about 1.5 hours before your flight. Now for those of you unable to do simple addition/subtraction, that means I had 2.5 hours to kill in ticketing. Had I been in a different state of mind, the ordeal might have been irksome. However, the airport has free wifi and air conditioning so I was HAPPY (they even have toilet paper praise Jesus).

As I was sitting there at ticketing in the Phnom Penh airport facebook stalking some of you fine people, a group of airport security and immigration officers began to accumulate around me. After some time they spotted my profile picture (which was me with my host sister in khmer wedding clothes) and started asking questions. They were very excited that I knew Khmer and we chatted for a good hour. It was, to be truthful, a bit obnoxious. I just wanted to check my email and enjoy the all too infrequent fast wireless access. However, I was soon to find that it pays to be nice, and apparently to know Khmer. When it was finally time to go to the ticket counter one of the immigration officers took my passport and filled out all of my departure information, then escorted me through the first class line for ticketing, he then took me through the diplomats and officials line of passport control, he went with me through security, and then carried my bags to my gate. While none of this was at all necessary, it certainly expedited the process and made for a good laugh.

On my way back from America I had the pleasure of transiting through Shanghai. Barefoot. Let me preface this story by stating that I now harbor great animosity towards the Shanghai Airport as a facility but do not extend this displeasure to those individuals employed within the facility. So, I left Seattle early Tuesday morning with a lot of tears and last phone calls to friends and family. I got on a plane and flew a couple hours to San Francisco. By the time I made it to California I had calmed down for the most part. I was still rather sad but had pulled myself together. That was until, in the process of hauling a$$ to my gate, my shoe broke. My really expensive, supposed to last forever, chaco shoe broke. This would not be a big deal if I was traveling within America. While home, I spent a week down in Oregon, had my shoe broken then I would have just fetched one of the other 15 pairs I had in the back of my car. In route back to Cambodia, however, I had one pair of shoes. Fortunately I was stable enough at that point to recognize the humor of it. Being barefoot in an airport isn’t all that bad. I got on the plane, shoe-less, and flew 13.5 hours to Shanghai. This brings me to my bitter tirade about the Shanghai airport. It makes ZERO sense. It is not at all logical. It does not have good signs/direction indicators, and it’s a royal pain. Here’s a hint for anyone transiting through Shanghai in the future. Do not follow the signs that say “international transfers/departures” they are lying. You actually have to follow the “domestic arrivals” signs even though you are never leaving the airport. Once you follow the domestic arrivals sign you will have the pleasure of going through a health check (you know so you don’t contaminate the outside-of-the-airport-China you have no intention of visiting), then passport control and immigration to being questioned by multiple individuals about why you don’t have an address and phone number, or visa for a country you have no intention of visiting. Then, you get to collect your checked baggage and go through customs only to go through ticketing, then back through passport control, back through customs, and back through security. Does this make sense to anyone? This whole ordeal was made great only by the fact that I did it all barefoot. I looked around too, I was definitely the only person without shoes. The two saving graces are as follows: 1) I wandered into a little shop and a nice woman helped me purchase some hot pink silk slippers so that I would at least have some manner of footwear when I arrived in Cambodia. 2) Somehow in all of this craziness I ended up with a first class seat I certainly didn’t ask for and definitely didn’t pay for. So, to the man at the ticket counter who gave me a boarding pass to first class; my sincere thanks Sir.

My two weeks at home were wonderful. The opportunity to spend time with my family and friends was invaluable and I am so thankful I was able to be present for my dad’s wedding and able to be in my best friend’s wedding. Now I just have to figure out how to get back into the swing of things here!