Homeward Bound

The plane wobbled and bobbed, dropped, and swayed in ways no human being should ever have to experience. All the excitement of going home drained from my body like the color did from my face. My Air France flight to Paris, the first of two flights that are taking me home, was wonderful as I slept but miserable as we descended.

All around me, passengers clung to airsick bags like these pieces of paper may perhaps erase the misery of motion sickness. I sat planning my escape to the bathroom (no way was I going to get sick into a bag!) when it dawned on me that getting sick in a turbulent airplane bathroom might not be any better than into a paper bag. I resigned myself to the reality that this rectangular shaped bag might be all that was in the cards for me, and reached in the pocket in front of me to fetch it. Unfortunately, it was not there. My legs started tingling, and I knew I’d join the airsick club if we didn’t land immediately. Either that, or I might pass out – a seemingly worse predicament.

“Do you have an airsick bag?” I sheepishly asked the man next to me. As he handed it to me, I assured him, “I will do everything in my power not to use this right here!”

After one failed attempt to land and the threat of a diversion to another airport, our pilots finally managed to touch down nearly 12 hours after taking off from Jo’Burg. I was so relieved to be on the ground (with my bag still empty) that I patted the shoulder of the stranger next to me, “Thank God!” Still clutching the white paper bag (just incase) I disembarked from the plane grateful for solid ground!

A friend of mine recently emailed me with a subject line, “BUSY?” Reflecting on the last month of my life in JoBurg, I guess busy is an accurate description! Although I am disappointed in my lack of posting, I am excited at what that means: I have a good life in JoBurg! When I accepted this position, I declared immediately that I would be coming home for Christmas. At the time, I imagined a very homesick “me” who would need a trip home to refill my “homesick bank.” As I boarded the plane last night, I said to my friend Ryan who was travelling on the same flight, “I want to go home – I’m so excited to go home – but I don’t NEED to go home.” 

I am not the “me” that I had envisioned back almost a year ago. I am a “me” who loves and needs my family and friends back home and is over the moon at the thought of seeing them all again, but I am a new “me” who is happy with my decision to move and is enjoying all that fills my cup back in JoBurg. How lucky am I to have what I do and to be experiencing what I am and to be supported every step of the way by the people whom I will embrace for the first time in 5 months - in less than 12 hours!

So, here I sit at Charles De Gaulle Airport in Paris, France. I am now one hour behind JoBurg and six hours ahead of Home. My next flight - my chariot home - isn’t for another three hours, so I am inclined to use this time to catch up on all that I has happened since my last post at the end of November. I will do my best to keep it short! J read on...