Travel - Gripes & Grins

I'm at Dubai International Airport. I've made it through the initial luggage screening circus and I have my boarding pass. I'm entering the passport line - the shortest one, naturally. A Japanese man already standing in line throws his hand up at me and motions for 3 men behind me to join him in line. Excuse me? Mental reminder - I'm a woman in an Arab world. But wait, this guy's not Arab! As it turns out, they were all delayed once we got to the security checkpoint because they couldn't figure out how to remove their belts and shoes prior to walking through the security archway. Funny how that works out, huh?

Now I'm on the moving walkway, approaching the main terminal. I glide past an Arab family who decided to walk on steady ground instead. A man, his wife, their Filipino nanny, and 2 small children, both under 3 years of age. As I pass them, I can't help but notice the man looks remarkably cartoonish. He has larger than life features. His nose is huge. His black hair almost glistens (but not like it's greasy) and is styled as though he brushed out Shirley Temple ringlets that morning. His body is massive and hulking, draped in a beige thobe with a white wrap around his shoulders. A crocheted cap of sorts teeters atop his unusually large head of softened ringlets. His hands, too, are quite large. I am reminded of large breed puppies, the kind that are soft and cuddly, but have huge paws they haven't quite grown into yet. But this man has definitely grown into his hands. And he's not nearly as adorable as a large breed puppy! His wife, by comparison, is a waif. She is tiny and petite and cloaked in black from head to toe. Ironically, she is smaller than their Filipino nanny.

So our flight was late departing Dubai. Immediately, I calculated the time I would have to transit through passport control and customs before meeting my connecting flight in Atlanta. I'm already worried, but decide to watch some TV, enjoy dinner, and then pass out for 10+ hours. We experienced some delay during the flight, apparently, and arrived in Atlanta a full half hour late. Passport control and customs went as well as could be expected - great, in fact, considering I was about 5th in line and my bag was first off the conveyor! So instead of freaking out, I move to Plan B. I approach the rebooking desk and tell the nice middle-aged man wearing a smile, "There's absolutely no way I'm going to make my connecting flight. And even if I do, I have a hard time believing my luggage will make it with me. So, when's the next flight?" He laughed at me, fidgeted on his computer a bit, told me, "Sorry, no seats are available on the next flight," then fidgeted a bit more, checked my boarding pass again, then, "Oh, it turns out you're already booked for the next flight. I'll just change your luggage tags and issue you a new boarding pass." (Turns out, they called ahead for some of us with short connection times.) Could it really be this easy...? I feel so relieved, so relaxed. The alternative: I race 'til my little heart wants to jump out of my chest. I make my flight, just as the doors are about to close. On the other side, I am last at the baggage claim - with no luggage - and then fury ensues. Yeah, this was much easier. Thank you, Delta Airlines.

So I'm in the terminal now, in one of the few smoking rooms the Atlanta airport still makes available to addicts like me. And I have to lower my head so that my huge grin isn't visible. There are literally 5 people in the smoke-filled room (which is worse than a pool hall) with their laptops out, actively working! Several others are fiddling with a Blackberry - or some other fancy phone. I find this strangely amusing - that (a) they can't wait to get to the gate or lounge to work on their laptops because they are workaholics (and I thought I was bad); or (b) they are so addicted to nicotine that they intend to spend quite some time there and might as well work!

As exhausting and frustrating as traveling can be, I must admit I quite enjoy it. This trip proved very entertaining at times, just in observing people. I also taught myself a valuable lesson: Don't try to force things - remain calm and work around what you can't control. Now if only I could apply that lesson in other areas of my life... Then I'd surely be set - and would surely have nothing left to complain about!