Journey through pressure

A little behind on this update, but I've just now managed to get my wireless internet connection working. I'll start with my flights the first day and work through until everything is up to date.

The plan was to fly to Chicago, then switch to Turkish Airlines for a flight to Istanbul and then hop over to Ankara. I got a ride to the airport at about two and easily made it through US customs and security. Took my first flight to Chicago and arrived at about 8 pm local time. Had a bit of a hard time finding my terminal, but everything seemed to be working out. Didn't know what the deal with my luggage was, so I went to baggage claim looking for it, but the machine there informed me that it was connecting through and would meet me in Ankara. Cue ominous foreshadowing music.

Arriving at the Turkish Airlines gate was like the opening scene of Midnight Express (except, you know, I didn't have blocks of hashish strapped under my shirt). The small, out-of-the-way room was packed wall to wall with Turks presumably returning home, English was nowhere to be heard and the temperature was warm enough for me to start sweating slightly. Eventually, the flight boarded and I found myself being asked by the Turkish man next to me if I would mind switching spots with his young son sitting several rows up. Sure, I say. I've heard nothing but good things about Turkish hospitality, so I might as well reciprocate. Cue ominous foreshadowing music again.

It turns out the switch has me sitting next to a young child. I HATE children at the best of times, and an 11-hour flight is certainly not an atmosphere that is going to make me any more accommodating or understanding. This kid is probably about 8-10 years old, so he's right at that age where he can speak enough to be outgoing but has no conception of such things as personal space or the fact that strangers might not want to answer an endless barrage of trivial questions. I field these inane queries for a good fifteen minutes as the flight takes off before he is finally satisfied for the time being. I amuse myself by repeatedly defeating the onboard chess game on the screen in front of me and listening to Danger Zone a couple dozen times. Ironically, the music selection includes Giorgio Moroder's chase theme from Midnight Express. I wonder if the guy who picks those songs is Greek or Armenian.

Then, about three hours into the flight, something very unfortunate happens. The kid next to me, who has long since fallen asleep, drifts over and rests his ****ing head on my shoulder. I am immediately filled with rage accentuated by frustration. There is no possible way I can tolerate even five minutes of this, let alone God knows how many hours until he wakes up. I can't very well shake him awake either, for fear of him creating a scene that wakes up half the plane and leaves everyone staring at me like I'm George ****ing Costanza and I just ate an eclair out of the garbage. As the futility of my situation begins to sink in, I decide that I am going to need to take action soon for my sanity's sake, so I start fumbling around for something under my chair. This wakes the little bastard up and I thank God as he takes the hint silently. Crisis averted.

Trans-Atlantic air travel is a strange thing. Because you lose so many time zones going west to east, your day essentially passes in double time. Except it isn't double time, because at around 1 am, just as you hit the ocean, they dim the lights and close all the windows, and it goes back to being 9 pm again. Every once in a while someone briefly cracks a window and you're reminded that it's not actually evening in the middle of the Atlantic before they close it up and plunge the whole cabin back into twilight. At some indeterminate time the lights go back up and breakfast is served, but the whole plane continues in a sort of lethargic stasis until you land and it's evening again and an entire day has just sort of slipped past you. I don't think you can ever really get used to it.

Eventually, we close in on Istanbul at around 6 pm local time. I can see the Hagia Sofia from my window. It looks magnificent and its grandeur reminds me that half the known world was twice ruled from this city. The airport is identical to a Western one, except all the signs are in Turkish first and then English. I spend two minutes grabbing a visa and easily make my flight to Ankara in time with no ill effects other than a lack of sleep. Things are looking good. Right up until the landing.

Remember the luggage? Yeah. It wasn't there. I show up at the baggage claim and wait for a solid twenty minutes before determining it isn't coming. Asking for help gets me shuttled back and forth between various staff and offices before I am finally able to ascertain, via a near-useless information officer, that my luggage is nowhere to be found and I will need to call in the morning as they attempt to locate it. At this point it's 11 pm and I haven't slept in God only knows how many hours, so my only concern is finding a bed to sleep in. I grudgingly accept the current state of affairs and get into a taxi bound for Middle Eastern Technical University.

At this point, sleep is starting to become unavoidable. I begin to nod off for increasingly extended periods in the taxi as we continue the endless journey to the dormitories. At one point I awake to find us passing by an airport, which makes me wonder if the driver is ****ing with me and driving in circles. Soon enough, though, we arrive at my destination and I toss seventy lira the driver's way as I search for my building. Several helpful sets of Turkish directions later, I am getting my key from the front desk and passing out in my bed, unsatisfied with the current state of affairs that has me without even any toiletries or an idea of what time orientation is tomorrow morning, but too tired to do anything about it. A few minutes later the blissful oblivion of sleep claims me and clears my mind for the time being.

Wow, that was longer than I thought it was going to be. I would move on to the second day, but my friend's hot Iranian roommate just sat down across the lounge and I have to go test the waters. More to come later.