For me, the day before departure is usually surreal. I want
to carry-on as if it is an ordinary day, both out of habit and out of a sense
that traveling is an ordinary part of life. Yet, it is also the last day I will
see many places and people for an extended amount of time (a very long time in
this case). All the emotions are present: joy, fear, happiness, nervousness,
sadness, anxiousness, and a sense of adventure and expectation. For the first time
in a long time, I had packed everything in advance, thus leaving me with little
to do but sit around and wait (twiddle my thumbs, watch TV, or patter about
nervously). This isn't something I’m so keen on doing. Luckily, my nephew
decided to be born on September 1st two years ago, giving me a bit
of a distraction from the waiting. Specifically, this distraction came in the
form of a cake.
I volunteered to bake the birthday cake for the occasion –
my final farewell so to speak. And what better of a farewell than a cake that
will send the little children home with a sugar high and eat away at the enamel
of our teeth. Thus was conceived the idea to reincarnate a masterpiece of a
cake that was first created in May of 2013 in honor of the completion of a senior
thesis (Eric Halvorson’s senior thesis as a matter of fact). To make a long
story short (a year-long story in fact), Eric wrote a very large thesis and
spent a lot of time on it. Therefore, the only logical cake that would coincide
with his masterpiece was a cake of equal size and magnitude. The result (as
created by Kelly Dumais) was a triple-layered red velvet cake with cream cheese
frosting in between the layers and chocolate frosting over the whole cake. I
adapted this for the birthday party by baking a two-layered red velvet sheet
cake with the cream cheese and chocolate frosting.
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| My cake. |
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| The inspiration. |
The process of making the cake provided adequate distraction
and helped pass the time as well as give me the opportunity to have frosting
for lunch. The cake was delivered and the party was fun (as well as a bit noise
– little kids and all).
My final day of departure was also marked by the words “Wow,
I've made it.” I've waited a while for this moment and finally arriving at the
edge of my wait created the mix of emotions listed above. It was only a matter
of hours until I left, not days, weeks, or months. Accompanying the sudden
onrush of expectation and excitement was a quick run through of my packing
exploits to make sure I had everything I wanted to bring. Flights were checked,
boarding passes printed, and my passport and visa checked about ten times (to
ensure it had not cancelled itself at some point since I received it). There
was last minute rearranging of bags as well as goodbyes and itinerary checks.
After all that was finished, there was one last ritual that had to be completed
– the movie. I didn't actually think about it last night while I was watching
the film, but before each big flight (meaning before each time I leave for
Russia for back to the US), I watch a movie. Specifically, the film fits a
certain criteria – the theme having something to do with new beginnings,
finding a new home, etc. The film last night was “Serenity” (a good film based
on the TV show “Firefly” – I highly recommend watching the show, then seeing
the movie). All was said and done around 11:30 PM. My alarm was set for 3:00
AM. One may ask why I did not lay down to sleep earlier. Well, I couldn't. Even
when I did finally slide into bed, I couldn't fall asleep. I was ready to go –
full of energy. Not a good combination for sleeping, however I did eventually
fall into dreamland after a bit of tossing and turning.
Then came the sound of my alarm – a loud tune, ringing
through the halls of my dream. Barbaric. In any case, the time had arrived and
I was up. Tea and toast were the order of the day for breakfast with the added
touch of eating on the front porch. 3:15 AM is a very loud time of morning in
case you were wondering. Bugs were making their music, the chorus raising and
raising without much hint at receding. It was beautiful. I even saw three
raccoons. Lovely creatures. It was a fitting final breakfast before departure –
serene and dark and quiet. The sun wasn't going to be coming up for another
couple of hours, at which time we (my parents and myself) were already at the
airport.
The goodbyes were said and I boarded the airplane, the first
of many (I had a total of three airplanes to ride in before even leaving the
US!).
Consequently, my favorite and least favorite moments of
flying come at the same time – taking off and landing. I always get a bit tense
at those moments. There’s a cool tradition that I've seen in Europe (and especially
in Russia): when the plane lands safely, everyone claps. It’s at the same time
a “Yay! We’re alive” as much as a way to thank the pilots for getting us to our
destination. I like it, so I always clap when my plane lands safely. I haven’t
quite figured out what I’ll do if the plane doesn't land all that safely, but
let’s hope that doesn't happen really soon. J
Getting back to my adventures flying over the US and then
over the Atlantic and Europe, let’s just say that all the planes landed safely,
just not at the most desired of times. It all started with a sandwich in
Boston. I had enough time between flights to grab something quick to eat. I
stopped at a sandwich shop and saw on the menu an item with “roasted vegetables”
and “herb goat cheese.” Now that’s what I need, I thought. I placed my order
and waited. Now, maybe this is just me, but when I see the words “roasted
vegetables,” the word “hot” comes to mind. That isn't apparently what the
sandwich shop people think of when they see their own menu. I bit into my
sandwich eagerly and was greeted with cold vegetables. It wasn't bad, just not
what I was expecting. I finished the sandwich and told myself that if this is
the worst thing of the trip, then that’s okay.
I spoke too soon.
Three hours later, I was sitting on the plane to New York
and the plane was sitting on the runway in Boston. It wasn't the ideal plan
that I had in mind. Bad weather between the cities kept us waiting. I thought
for sure that I would miss my flight to Moscow – also not high on my wish list.
Recalling to mind my trip back to the US after my year abroad, I ran through
JFK to the Aeroflot terminal. I arrived sweating, dragging my luggage behind me
to find out that this flight was also delayed. This was a good thing, because
it gave me time to get through security and still make my flight. The bad side
to this news was that I would not make my intended connecting flight from
Moscow to St. Petersburg. As the Russians say “бывает” (it happens). We left New York two hours after our scheduled
departure time. Greeting us on the plane though were fine accommodations as
well as a warm meal. For those of you who don’t know, Aeroflot has the best
airplane food. It’s a fact. The cheesecake we had for dinner (yes, you read correct
– cheesecake) was superb! With a full entertainment system in each seat, I settled
in for the 9 hour flight.
The rest of the trip turned out fine, as I am now in St.
Petersburg writing this post. However, there were little adventures, as always!
It’s funny, because I always say, “where there are Russians, there will be
adventures.” Oh how true that is! Luckily this time around I had no trouble
passing through passport control. That was just wonderful. Grabbing my luggage,
I made my way to the Aeroflot desk to find out which flight I would take to St.
Petersburg. It was 15:22 and I was registered for the 16:10 flight. Ok, let’s
do it! One thing, they told me, I needed to pay for an extra piece of luggage before
boarding. Oh, right. After more running, I made it to security, where I was
stopped to open up one of my bags. They didn't like something they saw in the
scanners. I must add that I made myself proud at this moment, because the lady
asked me to open up my bag (they asked and they never touched my bags, perhaps
the TSA could learn a lesson from the Russians) and said they saw something
metal that could have been eye glasses. She asked me where our the glasses and
I responded, “They’re right here” (pointing at my glasses on my head). She
chuckled and bit and then went back into business mode and said that’s not what
she meant. Eventually, we discovered that the cause of their concern was my
clipboard. Then I was off running to my gate. I made it, but I was one of the
last passengers to board.
Woohoo!
The rest is very simple: I arrived in St. Petersburg, saw
what had to have been half the city’s police force hanging out at the airport
(G 20 summit) and ordered a taxi to my apartment.
Piter rewarded me with a beautiful sunset, great weather,
and of course, the city itself.
I knew I was home.
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