DETROIT TO NAGOYA

Okay, so I thought that I would be on this flight for 17 hours.  They say it will take 12. Potato, po-tato.

I think it's somewhat cruel to advertise that the flight goes straight from Detroit to Manila with a stopover in Nagoya for an hour or so.  That's false advertising.  We're stopping in Nagoya, for chrissakes, where we have to go through customs, security and get off the plane.  Then get back on and then fly another 2 hours to Manila.  Cruel.

What's even more interesting is they show a map of where you are flying and exactly where you are on your journey.  Ever see a map of the United States, the Pacific and the eastern part of Asia? I assure you, for every mile we get closer, the plane looks like it's barely moving on the screen.  Start with something closer so that you actually feel like you're moving.  For instance, we realized it was mentally easier to think of riding 100 miles on a bike as smaller increments.  So after 20 miles, we would say, "we have four 20's to go." Same rule applies here: show a map of Detroit to Chicago, Denver or even LA.  LA to Hawaii.  Hawaii to Japan.  Not the entire map of the world and then basically say, "See? You're here, barely moving." the only good thing about it is that if there is turbulence, I'll know whether to duck or to prepare to use my seat as a life cushion.

Hard to believe it's been three hours on the flight only.  I know what you're thinking.  It's a long flight.  It doesn't feel so long at first.  Just like any flight, really.  Except that in three hours, we've had drink service, dinner and I've enjoyed a free Miller Lite.  I don't think I eat that much in an entire hour period on the ground.

After three more hours, I will have watched several episodes of NCIS and maybe have done a few crossword puzzles.  I may have eaten another meal.  At that point, I will only be slightly interested in continuing to count the hours until arrival.

Three more hours later, I will have fallen asleep, waking up in a panic because I'll need to go to the bathroom and because I'm in the window seat, I will do all I can to hold my bladder because my mother and the kind older (and rather talkative) Filipina woman in the aisle seat will be fast asleep. I will have lost all interest in counting the hours flown or will fly to get there and will instead focus every fiber of my being towards holding my bladder until I fall asleep again.

Two hours after that, I will wonder how the hell longer I will be forced to sit on this plane and will be gently poking my mother to wake up and then disturb the kindly old woman because my bladder will burst.  I will forget all space and time and begin to think I will spend the rest of my life on this plane.  At that point, they will feed us yet again, after just giving us a snack. I'll briefly consider this a conspiracy, but based solely on my lack of comfort.  I will probably consider ordering a shot of alcohol at this point.

After another half hour, no more counting hours, no more wondering where the hell I am, I will have lost hope.  I will believe my mother is a shape shifter and the woman next to her in an elaborate plot to drive me insane.  They will probably try to feed us one last time and then all of a sudden, the plane will land in Japan and suddenly I'm free!

After marveling over the Japanese efficiency, adorable amenities (even the bathrooms are cute), fantastic pens (yes, pens), advanced technology (think cameras), ignoring the Japanese aesthetic to be adorable yet slightly disturbing in some way (my Japanese friend, Mai has described such a study in extremes), I will be forced to once again board the plane I have spent the last 12 hours of my life, once again to take off for two hours before my final destination.  Like a cruel, sad, and unamusing joke.  They will, once again, try to feed us and try to get us to buy duty free items.

I can sit here on this plane and know this is the fate that awaits me until I arrive in the homeland, because without fail, this happens every time.  When I was a child, maybe I blocked it all out.  Now that I'm an adult, I can honestly say I'm really happy I chose to spend money on an iPad to keep me amused.  Of course, NyQuill, if it could have gotten past security, would have been a better choice.

But I also know that the minute I arrive in the Philippines and see my family, the journey and the trip will not only have been forgotten, it would have been well worth it.

If I can only survive long enough to get there.  I presume no surprises on this plane ride.  Let's see how right I will be... 
 
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