12:36pm
Plane number three.
This whole Malaysian Airlines thing is completely surreal. I feel like I'm dreaming it. The crew's uniforms were surely designed several decades ago and most of the flight attendants are male. I am sitting between a lady with a southern accent who worried that I might be squished between her and the Chinese man who smells like Chinese food on the other side. I am, but that's what happens on planes right?
I'm not going to start complaining now. I refuse to start complaining now. I just wish I was in Australia.
6:30pm Taipei time
We are presently in transit on an unexpected (well, unexpected to me anyway, I thought this flight stopped in Tokoyo) stop in Taipei. We are a bunch of very tired-looking travellers in a bright cold room awaiting a plane to Kuala Lampur.
The thirteen and a half hour flight here caused chaos with my exhausted body and restless mind. I can't sleep on planes. Thank goodness for the hotel room waiting in KL. And Robert assured me the other day that he would not be offended if the first thing I did upon my arrival was sleep. My back is aching (yes, I know, love, it's because of all this slouching;).
On the plane, the Japanese man who I thought was Chinese kept lifting his finger in the air periodically as if he was working thru an invisible multiplication problem. Odd. But I did manage to make friends with the Texan lady (who has been living in Sydney for four years) sitting beside me. Her name is Peggy and she's on a return trip from visiting her grandchildren in the states. Her husband is an Australian preacher. Upon learning I had no plans and no place to go for the December part of my trip, she proceeded to offer several intriguing options. One of which was coming to visit Sydney and staying with her in their home by the beach. I suggested that Robert might want to take a road trip out there with me and she responded saying perhaps she could find us some of her friends to stay with cuz her husband's a preacher and well...if Robert and I weren't married... I quickly reassured her that that was not the case and that we were just friends. "Besides," I said, "I've got a boyfriend back home." That felt nice to say.
Peggy has a book with her that belongs to her grandson, Tyler. It is a sort of school project. The kids all sent blank notebooks to an airline and they collected traveller's stories in them. Everyone's was returned, but Tyler's. So Peggy offered to take a new book with her on her trip back to Australia. There are some interesting tales in it and I added mine to the collection.
This whole trip so far has been like dreaming. (I used to have these recurring "day trip to Australia" dreams in which I would meet Robert at a coffee place or in a hot tub or I would go to his house and see Angela but leave before he came home saying, "I'll catch him next time.") It's hard to wake up. Even harder to fall asleep.
I am nearly paralyzed with intrigue thinking about how normal everyday interactions with Robert are going to work. I imagine it will be quite a transition from never meeting in person to immeadiate living together. It will require patience and slow care.
There's a boy who looks like a sullen Pacey scuffing his shoes across the floor. I noticed him in LA as someone who looked nice to talk to (he has kind eyes), but I haven't and probably won't.
There are two teenage boys (one who reminds me of Hauke with more hair...or maybe it's just the loud shirt) who were on my Calgary flight also.
There are another couple of young guys who remind me way too much of Zeph and Sammy (characters from "The Beach") to go unmentioned. I wish I didn't have to mention them though, because I don't want to think about The Beach whilst travelling through the South Pacific.
I just saw the top of someone's head thru the smoking room glass and it reminded me of Shaughn. It's starting already. I hope it doesn't get too hard. 7:06am
7:53pm (where did Thursday go?)
I am in the elaborately designed Kuala Lampur International Airport awaiting what will be the last plane I have to take before reaching Melbourne and Robert and hopefully a nice warm bed.
Today marks the first mental breakdown of the trip (it was bound to happen sooner or later). Upon arrival and a wild goose chase through this interesting airport, Peggy and the two Canadian boys and another guy (the only one who knew where he was going) found comfortable rooms at the Pan Pacific hotel. I spent much of my time in that room crying. I'm not going to write much of my little breakdown (those things are never terribly interesting anyway to people who don't know your mind. i'll save the story for Amy and Shaughn maybe.) I'll just say that crying in the shower is a good travelling stress release. And the only one I had at my disposal at the time. I mean, I could've masturbated but it would be a lonely desperate orgasm and those are never good (someone better tell the teenage girls of the world that). Besides, I have promises to keep.
So after my shower I had to decide between going down for my free lunch or getting some much needed sleep. (What is it they say about a free lunch?) I chose food and it's a good thing too.
I carried this book down there with me and that's a good thing too because it so happened that the sullen Pacey boy I wrote about in Taipei noticed it and approached me as a fellow Canadian. (Turns out he's from Vancouver and knows someone who knows Joshua Jackson.) His name is Brahm (like the composer) and it seems I was correct in my earlier assumption that he would be nice to talk to. He's going to Sydney and plans to work in Australia for a year. We talked about our trips, bravery, the buffet, music lessons and Canadian winters vs the "tropical aquarium" we were surrounded with. I let him read the paragraph about him from Taipei. I ate chocolate mousse.
Deciding some sleep was needed, I made arrangements to meet Brahm in the lobby so we could make the long walk back to our terminal with some company. Following a nap that definitely wasn't long enough, we did so, the conversation centering mainly around the significant others we were leaving behind. He's been with his girlfriend, Kioko (no idea how to spell that) for four years, still they decided to make no promises for the time that he's away. My five months and five days didn't seem nearly as impressive to him, even with my declaration that we "just love each other really well." I don't blame him. I mean, I wouldn't believe me either if I was him. Who would? A love so strong and so committed in such a short time only happens on tv right? Some of us are lucky though. It does not seem unreasonable to me that I love this hard. In fact, it is the most natural emotion I've ever felt. It's hard to explain to people though, strangers especially. Oh well, the only people who really need to understand are Shaughn and I (and I think Amy gets it too.)
The flight has been delayed. I should probably try to phone Robert and let him know. I wonder what time it is in Melbourne. I'll ask this Australian guy beside me. OH silly me, he's not Australian, he's English and doesn't know much about Melbourne. Now is it better to wake Robert's dad at midnite to tell him about the delay or let them wait at the airport for two hours? The thing is, I don't even know if it's going to be Robert's dad or Souraya's friend or whoever that's picking me up so who knows if I'd unneccessarily wake someone? Still, waiting in an airport at 7:45 in the morning on a Saturday is not much fun. 8:52pm KL time 11:52pm Melbourne time
9:10pm KL time
We're in the pre-boarding room. I'm starving.
I was gonna call Robert (after much active decsionmaking) but I couldn't figure out how to use my phone card (Canada Direct access code?? remind me to ask mom about that) and I found out the delay will only be one hour after all so I didn't think it would be so bad for them. I just hope there are no further delays (I'd knock wood if there were any to be found in this glass and chrome room for waiting.)
I just figured something out. One of the main reasons why Kuala Lampur scares me into a mental breakdown (when all the other airports didn't) is that when I got here I started depending on people. Not to save my life or anything. But there were people here that I recognized enough to make myself familiar with (Peggy (whom I've completely lost now I'm afraid, since she went to Sydney without exchanging contact info with me) and the two nameless Canadian boys and then Brahm.) and brave the maze of KLIA with. That was a mistake. When I was doing everything by and for myself in the other airports it was much easier. Suddenly I was following people or people were following me and the direct result of that was an overwhelming sense of lonliness. When I got to my hotel room all I could think of was calling home, asking my mom or my sister or my boy to take care of me and let me know that I was okay. I was able to do that for myself eventually. Yet I've never felt more homesick in my life. I don't want to follow strangers in airports anymore. I don't want to be in airports anymore. But I am doing okay. 9:27pm
to Saturday, November 4, 2000
back to australian tour diary
back to main
