It has been a while since my last post and I do understand if you are
angry or even a bit disappointed. I’m sure that all of you have many questions
but I think that the most repeated one is: “where were you?” My answer:
“married”. For the past months I’ve been Ms. or as I like to call it: ground
staff purser.
Marriage is somehow exactly the same as being crew – not always but it
was my case. You start your day with a small briefing on how your day might be
like starting from groceries check up, paying the bills till making a last
minute full scale dinner for your husband and his working colleagues. Not only
briefing but also security checks: is his shirt properly ironed for the
meeting? Does he have enough beer for the weekend?
Yes, for most beer is a life
jacket (I rather go for vodka or gin tonic). Point is that being trained to ask
chicken or past at 35.000 feet and then ask exactly the same here in the ground
made me choose a simple decision: I rather make that question up in the sky
jumping continents than in between 4 terracotta walls in Manhattan. So yes, I
got split AKA divorced.
I always liked to believe that being crew was just a part of me, a
single moment in my life that would have an honest conclusion. Point is that
this honest conclusion still didn’t check in. And then you might ask: “did you
love him when you got married?” reply: “I don’t know”. Sometimes we do things
for the reasons that we don’t know. I do understand that marriage is a life
time commitment usually between 2 and to be honest I always dreamt with the
white dress and the big entrance. I had it, it was nice, actually it was beyond
of what I dreamt it would be but nevertheless it wasn’t enough. Okay, now you
may think that I’m greedy but honestly I’m not. I do know what I want in this
moment in my life and it’s a commitment, but with myself.
Okay yes, that
sounded selfish but there is no wrong in being one when the only person that
needs to be saved is you from yourself. I have this clear unpleasant memory of waking
up in the middle of the night with goose bumps all over my body staring at the
door and feeling that something was missing. This small black trolley with its
red purse weren’t there and each time I realized that my stomach sunk into a
never ending void.
Also there was this eventual impulse to look every once in a while my
passport and remember each stamp as a blurry memory. To my luck everything
became too much to cope with. Someone very wise once told me: “you may know
what your call is even though you are not completely sure about your decisions”.
For now, my call is to be up there. Get to know the world and let the world
know me. So once again, I am back, with my ironies and sarcasms, my truths and
points. This year is going to be only about flying, about the world that held’s
up in the sky and what’s there that only phew dare to share.
I’m going to re-start with some personal feedbacks regarding not only
crew but also about accommodations and cultural set backs from certain
societies. In my time off I’m going start using this little thing called “stand
by” and will start jumping from one place to the other. By the way, would
someone share his or her experience regarding airbrb or couch surfing?
You might think that being crew gives you the right to earn good money
but the answer is no, especially after a divorce. So for the first time in my
life, with the help of my brother as I don’t know anything about accountability
systems, we opened a paypal account in which we receive donations to help me
travel around the world and not die in the intent as a passenger or crew.
Here I am, back again. So after all this confessions, would you mind using
soap before flying? Garlic is not a shampoo - smile
Love to all of you,
L
(I don´t own the above picture)
