In Search of: Surviving the Flight, Even When You’re Scared

For those that don’t know, allow me to let you in on the worst kept secret in the history of secrets: I’m afraid of flying!  Yes.  I travel the world, yet the mere thought of getting on a plane gives me nightmares.  I have visions of plummeting to my fiery death.  I fight anxiety for at least two days prior to take-off.

This is no run of the mill, it bothers me to fly kind of phobia.  This is the kind of phobia that requires me to make peace with my untimely death prior to each and every flight.  And if there are multiple layovers?  Forget it.  Each new flight brings with it more terrifying thoughts.  In my history of flying, I have pretty much conjured up every possible horrible event that could occur.

But seeing as how I love to travel, my wanderlust overcomes my fear of flights each and every time.  Thank goodness!  Over the years, I have developed a few strategies that help me cope.  And if you’re also afraid to fly, one or two of these rituals might help.  Here goes:

  1. Drugs.  I told my doctor about my issues, and she prescribed me an anti-anxiety medication.  It relieves anxiety (at least as best it can when gallons of adrenaline are also coursing through my veins).  Top the anti-anxiety pill off with a melatonin tablet, and I pretty much have a lovely cocktail ready to send me to dreamland.  (Double bonus with melatonin: it’s an over the counter, natural sleep aid and works wonders for jet lag and time zone changes.  If I arrive in a location where the time zone is entirely different than mine, a melatonin the first night helps me get on track with the sleep schedule of my current locale.)  If you’re as terrified of flying as me, I highly suggest you talk to your doctor about getting a medication that might help the situation.
  2. Ear plugs.  This might be my new favorite trick.  One thing that scares me on flights is all the engine noise (and landing gear noise and wind noise and whatever other noise you can imagine).  In particular, when these noises change throughout the flight as flight gear is adjusted, I am immediately on high alert.  Ear plugs help block those particular noises, especially the changes in noise levels.  Bonus: they also help with changes in air pressure.  I have a terrible time with popping my ears, and earplugs make it so I don’t have to pop them as often.
  3. Sleep mask.  I do all I can to sleep throughout my flights (even short ones).  I don’t care if I’m flying in the middle of the day or the middle of the night.  It’s hard to be anxious when you’re asleep.  A sleep mask will block the light from the window or the reading light of your neighbor.  Also, the mask helps you to imagine you’re not actually on a plane.  Pretend you’re on a bus, and it’s windy (turbulence).  As silly as it sounds, these things can help.  I once slept through an entire 24 hours worth of flights, with the occasional wake-up to use the restroom or have a drink.  Additional plus:  I did NOT arrive at my destination jet-lagged.
  4. Reminders.  Prior to my flight, I give myself a few reminders.  First, and foremost, remember that the pilot did not come to work today to die.  He does this every single day (or at least on workdays), and this particular pilot has made it through every single flight he’s ever taken, which likely counts in the thousands.  Another important reminder?  Kay syrah syrah.  Whatever will be will be, people.  Whatever happens, you’re no longer in control, so regardless of how much anxiety you send into the world, it will do you no good.  If the plane goes down, there’s nothing you can do about it, and worrying and feeling anxious and giving yourself a near heart attack will not help.  In fact, it will likely shorten your life (in ways that have absolutely nothing to do with planes yet everything to do with stress wearing out your body).

So there you have it — my pre-flight rituals.  I wouldn’t call them fool proof in any way.  There are times I do every single one of these things, yet I end up spooked and scared the entire flight.  But most of the time, they help a lot.  After all, I’ve never run off a plane prior to closing the cabin doors, screaming, “NOOOOOOO!!!!”  In my book, that’s pretty damn good.

How about you?  Do you have any tips that get you through your own phobia of flying?

Posted in Ramblings and Rants, Trip Planning Tagged |

In Search of: A Lovely Downtown in Indianapolis

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When I registered to attend the National Science Teachers Association (NSTA) annual conference, I didn’t think too much of the venue.  Yes, I’ve never been to Indiana.  So I was a bit excited to check off another destination on my quest to visit each state in the U.S.  (I’m getting closer, peeps!)  Other than that, I imagined it would be an iffy, industrial looking downtown area.

I was wrong.

I arrived in Indianapolis and immediately sort of loved it.  I can’t vouch for any other part of the city.  I didn’t see much other than downtown.  But downtown Indianapolis was clean and, well, super cute.  (How’s that for a fantastic description?)   Our hotel was a quick walking distance to the convention center, yet far enough away that I often wandered the streets and had a look around.  I loved the stone street-ways.  And the state museum being so close.  And the rolling park and river walk.  And did I mention the turquoise fire hydrants?  Yes.  Their fire hydrants are painted turquoise.  Who wouldn’t love a town with such bright spectacles for curbing fires?  It also didn’t hurt that I absolutely loved the conference.  It was inspiring and fun and geeky and sort of perfect.  (Especially since I got to kick it with a couple of penguins and watch a free 3D viewing of To the Arctic.)

I probably wouldn’t go to Indianapolis for a vacation all its own — you all know I’m more the mountain/jungle type and less the city type.  But I must say, if you’re nearby, downtown Indianapolis is certainly worth the stop.

Posted in North America, United States Tagged , |

In Search of: An Actual Post on ISOS

Wow.  My writing lately has been appalling.  Particularly because there hasn’t been any.  How do I begin to catch up?  I suppose the obvious way — just write.  So here I am, sitting in bed, computer on lap, punching the keys.  I feel a little squeaky and out of practice.  Likely because I am.

I’m running myself a bit ragged at the moment.  It doesn’t help that since I returned from Peru, I’ve learned a valuable lesson about the downside of travel — sickness.  Be it the accidental drinking of parasite infested water, the bite of a nasty mosquito or the germs hobnobbing with your nose on the airplane, it’s easy to get sick when away from home.  I’ve been fighting a feisty bug the last few weeks.  I think it’s finally gone, but I say that with discretion.  I thought it was gone after the first week, and then the week after.  I have now reverted to cautious optimism.

But, anyhow, back to running myself ragged.  At present, we’re in the home stretch at school.  I’m not exactly sure how the end of the school year crept up on me, but it’s here with a vengeance, and I’ve got about 13,000 topics still to cover.  Obviously I’ll only be able to cover 9, 899 of them.  I’m also attempting to figure out how to develop lectures and videos to include in my curriculum next year.  I already maintain blogs for each of my classes, and I often use other instructors’ videos to supplement class discussions and lecture.  But I’d really like to create my own.  The students know my teaching style, and they like learning directly from me.  I think it would improve my lesson plans.  Of course, I had to choose one of the most time consuming projects possible.  But then that’s me.  I like to keep things interesting.

What else, you ask?  Well, I’m feverishly editing Peru pictures.  I use the word “feverishly” rather loosely.  Mostly because I’m moving at a snail’s pace.  Initially, I blamed this on being sick.  Now, I blame it on the fact that being sick makes one rather used to NOT editing pictures.  I’m not sick anymore, yet I still didn’t get any pictures edited today.  Granted, I edited hiking pictures yesterday and baby shower pictures a few days before and Indiana pictures the day before that.  So.  I’m not lazy.  Just distracted by pictures other than those from Peru.

This weekend I’m about to head out for a work related trip.  I’m going to New York City!  This would be the cause of exceptional excitement, except, I daresay, I’m a little tired of traveling at the moment.  OMG.  Don’t tell anyone I said that!  Me?  Tired of travel?  It can’t be.  Except it kind of is.  Not so much tired of travel as just…tired.  And I’m busy planning my big trip to Guatemala and Honduras this summer.  And a handful of fantabulous hiking trips.  Honestly, I’d rather focus on those than a “work related trip.”

Ah, hell.  Now I just sound like I’m complaining.  I don’t mean to.  I feel so incredibly fortunate this year.  Things have gone so well.  I’ve been lucky to travel and learn and enjoy my teaching.  I’m happy and semi-healthy (soon to be totally and completely healthy!).  What more could a girl ask for?  Not much, I tell you.  Not much.

Posted in Peru, Ramblings and Rants, South America Tagged |

In Search of: Randomness and More Temples in the Jungle

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I find myself in a bit of a conundrum.  I’m in the middle of telling stories about summer in Southeast Asia, yet I just returned from an amazing trip in Peru, and now I’ve started storytelling about that trip also.  Do I continue talking Thailand, Cambodia and Laos?  Or do I skip ahead and tell the striking diversity I have begun to uncover in Latin America?  Hells bells.  I don’t know.

For now, I’ll continue where I left off in Cambodia.  Once I get more pictures ready, I’ll throw a corkscrew in the whole thing and just start randomly telling stories from other locales.  Because that’s how I roll, all random and shit.

Where was I last we spoke about SE Asia?  Ah, yes.  Angkor Wat.  Cue humidity, blazing sun and a smashing good time!  (Obviously I think I’m British now.)

So.  Remember I told you I stayed at a place in Siem Reap called the Golden Mango Inn?  Lovely place.  Really, really lovely.  Every time I walked past the front desk, they asked if they could help with anything.  One staff member in particular was so, so nice.  For the life of me, I can’t remember his name.  He arranged for me to have a bike at 4am when I decided I wanted to cycle to the ruins to catch the sunrise.  He was my wake up call.  He made sure the kitchen opened super early so I wouldn’t arrive at Angkor without eating.  He packed snacks for my bike ride — and then proceeded to worry about me biking on my own so early in the morning.  That’s actually funny.  I assure you, the 4am bike ride was MUCH safer than the afternoon bike ride on my way home, at which point I had to dodge the insane Siem Reap traffic going in every direction (none of which seemed to be heading the correct way).  The good news is, I survived to tell the story.

The Inn was phenomenal.  And that particular day was unforgettable.  I watched the sunrise at Angkor, then cycled through the park for over eight hours.  It was hot and humid and slightly unbearable at times.  But it was also an experience few people have.  Yes.  There are several bikers at Angkor at any given moment, but most don’t go as far or as long as I did.  Most don’t ride alongside kids biking to and from school.  Most don’t stop to chat with villagers that suspect they’re slightly crazy for taking such a long ride.  Granted, most don’t hit a ditch and go flying into the middle of the road either.  But, hey, it was an experience, right?  And the two school boys riding in front of me seemed rather entertained (if not slightly bewildered) by the whole ordeal.  The fact is, I would go back and do it again in a heartbeat.  Except I would take it even slower and soak in every single second.

Few things in the world can outdo cycling through ancient ruins amongst a beautiful, monkey-filled forest in Cambodia.

Posted in Cambodia, Southeast Asia Tagged , , , |

In Search of: A Refuge in Cusco, Peru

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When I arrived in Lima, Peru I had an agenda: find Christy.  The plan was to meet during layovers in Lima then fly to Cusco.  As luck would have it, Christy decided to stop and get coffee at the precise place I decided to turn a corner in the airport.  She was sipping a latte (or some such contraption), reading her Kindle, when I spotted her.  Woot!  Vacation had begun.  We talked and plotted, then boarded a plane for one last flight.

One might think two normally clean girls would want to shower and remove the grime of 24 hours of travel once arriving at their intended destination.  But.  We’re special.  We arrived in Cusco, headed to the hostel and dropped our bags (Hostal Mallqui: super cute, nice staff, highly recommended).  We knew if we took the time to settle in, we would likely get tired and not want to leave.  So.  Donning the clothes we had been wearing since leaving our homes the previous day, we wandered into the city.  (But, hey, the dirty clothes part — that’s just between you and I.  Okay?)

As soon as I walked into the city, my little heart was smitten.  I took pictures of wooden doors and old stone streets and archways and big blue skies.  My camera kept clicking.  There was character around every corner.

After a while of walking we realized we were famished and found a restaurant called Good Chicken.  We sat down and stared at the menu.  It was in Spanish.  Have I mentioned my Spanish is, well, appalling?  It is.  We proceeded to take out the travel Spanish book I ordered on Amazon prior to the trip and began to translate.  After watching us for a good ten minutes, the waitress took pity and handed us English menus.  Note to self: always request the English menu.

We ate.  We talked.  We laughed.  And then we headed out for more wandering.  Thousands of people gathered at Plaza de Armas — men in red cloaks, suits, hats.  People carried musical instruments.  Priests gathered.  Unaware of the festivities, we surmised this likely wasn’t your average Monday afternoon.  We later learned we had entered Cusco during their yearly festival, Senor de los Temblores (Lord of the Earthquakes), celebrated the Monday before Easter each year in commemoration of the devastating earthquake of 1650.

We soon looked up to see the sky going dark.  The blazing sun of the afternoon was being replaced by heavy clouds.  We took notice, yet kept going.  Christy’s from Seattle.  I think we can handle a little rain.  We wandered through a craft market, window shopping.  Thunder rumbled.  Emerging from the market, the deluge began.  Rain fell from the sky in sheets.  We watched from an overhang as people ran from the streets, seeking cover.  We repeated our mantra, we’re not afraid of a little rain, and walked to the street.  Okay.  Maybe the rain is a bit much.  We sought a new overhang.  Caught up in the flow of people seeking refuge, we found ourselves entering a cathedral.  The crowd shoved and pushed and we nearly thought we’d be trampled.  To be trampled in a church — something about that seems terribly wrong.  Anyhow, priests ushered us inside.  We scrambled through the crowd and found a seat amongst the thousands of others.  But our attention spans are short.  After a few minutes, we decided to try our luck.  Surely the rain had subsided a bit.  Or it would soon.  Against the warnings of a nearby priest, we pulled up our hoods and found ourselves, yet again, in the open, in the rain.

My feet wore flip-flop sandals, the sole worn to a smooth surface.  Every few feet, I slipped on the stone walkway.  I walked slowly and deliberately, which unfortunately added to the amount of water my clothes took in.  Water rushed down the streets, turning Cusco into a river of sorts.  We wandered the streets, soggy photocopied map in hand, searching for the hostel.  Some time later, we arrived and rang the buzzer for the staff to open the glass doors in front.  They rushed to the doors, looked at the two travelers dressed in water and cotton, laughed, and led us inside.

We promptly walked to our room, took the longest, hottest showers the hostel would afford and ordered a heater.

Welcome to Cusco.

Posted in Peru, South America Tagged , , |