JFK for 24 hours

Our plane landed about 8:30, far too late for our 7pm connection to Seattle. The couple next to me on the flight were trying to get to Seattle as well, where their pregnant daughter lives. I assured them as best I could, that I would stay with them in New York and help them with customs and finding a new flight. At some point they told me they were not Ukrainian but Moldavians, and spoke Russian and Romany, not Ukrainian nor English, but we were able to piece some phrases together. Their daughter Violet was pregnant, and they were going to stay with her and her husband for several months;they hadn't seen her for 5 years! Prior to this they were working in Israel; Natalie was some kind of nurse or worked in a hospital and Sasha drove a truck--I think that's what they said. Though we were separated at customs, we were able to meet up again soon, and a good thing, too. The airport there is huge and confusing enough for natives, let alone those who don't speak or read English. We headed to terminal 8 where United lay, to try to arrange new flights yet when we took the subway there, we were redirected back, on the subway again to terminal 4, to the Aerosvit counter because United said it was their delay that caused us miss the United flight. Back and forth, back and forth--yikes! To complicate matters, my ticket looked much different from my friends'; theirs was handwritten in Cyrillic and looked much less official. When we returned to Aerosvit, they had closed for the evening, so we took the subway back to terminal 8 and United and were then told that we had to wait until the morning to get our flights rebooked. Really, they were less than pleasant, though I realize they must have had their fill of stranded, panicky passengers that day. We asked about getting some cots to sleep on as we saw many passengers bedded down in the ticketing area, and we were told that "they" would be coming through with more cots after the ticket area closed for the night. We waited and waited, then finally asked someone with a United uniform on (after the area had definitely closed) when and where the additional cots were coming. He said, "they" must have run out. So, Natalie and Sasha bedded down with me on two 3x6 foot area rugs (which, though filthy, was some padding for the hard airport tile). After yet another trip through the subway to get some food from terminal 4 and then back, we settled down for a few hours rest, but certainly not sleep. Every once in a while I'd catch myself thinking someone was watching me, and then I realized we were lying next to a full size poster with a man looking at us. Unnerving on severe lack of sleep. In the morning we were able to rebook flights (again being separated as I now had a carry-on with liquids --Vodka from Duty Free in Borispol-- that I had to check). I hurriedly had to pack it as best I could and hoped it would survive the handling. We then reunited for the rest of the day, killing time back in terminal 4 where there were shops and food. Most of the day was spent wandering around looking in overpriced shops or having short, semi-translated conversations. As we sat in the food court much of the day, I saw them watching how frequently the staff came through to wipe tables, mop up spills and empty the trash. At one point Sasha gestured toward the worker, turned to me and said, "America. Good!" with a broad grin. Knowing what I had seen of the littering problem in Ukraine, I totally understood.
Finally, our evening flight rolled around and we had an uneventful flight; Sasha had borrowed my phone to notify his daughter about the change of plans, and I had spoken with her as well. Near midnight, we collected luggage and then kept an eye out for their daughter. When both the daughter and her husband came, they tried to persuade me to spend the night at their one bedroom apartment, as my flight to Pullman was not until the next morning, but I didn't want to infringe on their family reunion, so I declined. Instead, they helped gather my luggage and parked me near the ticket counter I would need for checking luggage the next morning. We hugged good-bye, as we'd been through quite the journey together, and soon I found an all night Starbuck's (of course, it was Seattle, after all) around the corner. There I found myself on a bench where I had to listen to a surreal blend of blaring top 40 pop music blasting from the kitchen area and cool but loud as well "Starbuck's jazz and easy listening" tunes in the customer seating area. Finally at 2pm, the barista took a break, where she locked several of us in behind the chain curtain, turned off the top 40 music at my request, and left for an hour. I think I caught some shut-eye then!
The next morning I was uneventfully able to change my ticket and check my bags once again, and finally arrived back in Pullman, Sunday morning at 11:30, having begun my Odyssey on Wednesday, leaving Novoukrainka after school. What an amazing trip! I met the most phenomenal people: sweet, caring, funny, hard-working, and I owe a huge debt of gratitude to my host Lyudmila Talashkevych! I love you and miss you already!

Going home via volcano April 16, 2010

We're sitting on the airport tarmac in Borispol after a nightmarish day of waiting and tension. My flight this morning was to leave at 6:20 am, so Lyuda and I got up at 3:20 in order to take a taxi at 3:40 to get to the airport by 4:20 check-in. Last night, though, we watched British news and heard of a volcano eruption in Iceland which was delaying all air traffic in western Europe and shutting down Heathrow. Lyuda assured me in various ways that this would not impact my travels, and when I asked if we should call the airport, she stated simply, "I do not have the number." and that was that. So, we rose, arrived at Borispol in the early morning quiet, left the taxi waiting at the curb so that Lyuda could then go from there to the downtown bus station. As we walked in, we immediately saw the board where all flights were canceled or delayed, mine until 4 pm. Lyuda was extremely upset, torn between leaving me and catching her taxi, knowing I had no Hryvnas left (though I had dollars) and there was a good chance I'd be stranded there with a canceled flight and no back-up plan. We wandered over to the food court area and settled me and my luggage next to some folks speaking English. Once she realized I had some people who might be able to help, I was able to persuade her to take the taxi. I sat down near this group: a British postal worker who had booked a flight through Ukrainian airlines (the two Ukrainians there were somewhat horrified that he'd deliberately pick this airline over western European ones, saying that no one did that unless all other options were closed), a Canadian--Clarence, a high school teacher of religious studies, and a young Ukrainian woman, Natalia,traveling to Miami for her first job in America who was speaking with another Ukrainian man who had just flown in from Denver and was killing time there before his bus later in the afternoon. We waited together for several hours--I,until 9 when I tried calling the Kiev contact number for IREX only to realize that this was a FAX number, and then called the US number, leaving a message in the middle of the night. Eventually, I called home, left a message, and soon Angus called me back. As KLM was the airline for Natalia, Clarence,and me, Natalia stood in the growing line, holding our places while we watched all the luggage. Finally, they opened the window at 11 am. Rumors were flying, more and more airports were closing every few minutes: Frankfurt, Paris, Amsterdam, yet our departure on the screen stubbornly still displayed "4 pm, Delay" not canceled. For Natalia, the agent at the window said in so many Ukrainian words, "We can't help you", and turned her away. When I stepped up, filled with dread after having watched several other people get summarily dismissed or rebooked on flights several days later, I handed over my itinerary. She punched a few buttons and then told me "your agency has changed your flight to the 20th." I told her this was impossible and that I hadn't heard from anyone and that I was not allowed to stay longer. She briefly checked again and responded that she had me on a flight for later this afternoon. This all took place over about 3 minutes. Given that most around me had been told 48 hours to 4 days delay, I was astonished! Clarence eventually got on the same flight, sticking together through the Byzantine security and boarding procedures (3 separate times). Meanwhile, Bill the Brit I left waiting for Heathrow to open-- he was assured it would by 6 pm). He had been visiting his internet Ukrainian girlfriend for the first time; I hope this was worth it! Young Natalia, I hugged and tried to reassure her that she wouldn't lose the job awaiting her. I think it was on some kind of cruise ship and she was worried it would be gone by the time she was able to make it to the states. I felt terrible for her; I don't know what she was going to do. Another woman I had been waiting in line with was a Canadian trying to return with her husband, young son, and the newly adopted Ukrainian toddler. When she discovered I had a flight to New York today, she wanted on the same flight, but she had no visa for the toddler to go through the US so she had to wait for a flight straight to Canada. She had been in Uk, for 7 weeks already, 3 more than they'd initially planned for the adoption process.
Finally, Clarence and I made it into the boarding area, and by 1:15 we were through customs and security, just waiting to board our 1:35 flight. However, we didn't board until 2:15 and only departed at 3:45. By that time I realized that I would miss my connection in New York for Seattle. (I was originally to go Amsterdam, Seattle, Pullman, but now it was to be New York, Seattle, Pullman). The couple next to me seem to be on the same flight to Seattle (though they don't speak English and I had to pull out my phrasebook and do some pointing and hand gestures). They'll be sticking close to me when we deplane. I think we'll get to NY some time around 8 pm, and we'll have to figure out new flights then! I realize, of course, that I am indeed on the dreaded Ukrainian airlines we had all been joking about earlier.