Lessons in Packing: Day of Departure

         I am currently writing this from my Ingy boo’s beautiful home in Guadeloupe (or Gwadloup in the local creole language).  We are chilling in the upstairs and watching Nuit au Musée 2 (Night at the Museum 2) which is, of course, all in French! So far I haven’t had any sort of culture shock type moments. Except, of course, when I actually think to myself “holy shit Doug, you’re on a French island in the Caribbean” and then my heart starts to beat faster as the adrenaline starts to run through my veins and then I tell myself, woa dude, calm down! J I am having such a great time though! And Ingrid and her family have been nothing but kind, hospitable, and very happy to find someone who is so interested in their culture, which they are so eager to share.

Before I talk about my adventures so far in Gwadloup, I will talk to you about my absolutely wonderful (NOT!) travel experience.  The first advice Im going to give to fellow international travelers/students going abroad is: PACK LIGHT! I don’t care if you think you’re going to “absolutely need this pair of shoes” or the huge bag of advil your mom gives you to last you the whole year, or the pound of baby powder you buy at kmart because, hey, you’re going to a country where it’s reeeally hot and you need something to help keep you dry and fresh! NO! You can buy that stuff THERE if you absolutely need it!

So here’s me, 20 year old, inexperienced international traveler, arriving at Chicago O’hare at six in the morning with my two heavy-ass bags, one weighing 70lbs and the other 40lbs. I say goodbye to my parents, my eyes barely even water because I am so preoccupied with the line of THOUSANDS of other people that are arriving at the airport at the same time to also catch their flights like I am, where Im supposed to go, where to check in, etc. So after my parents leave, I ask this nice lady if Im in the right line because since my final destination was Pointe-à-Pitre but my layover was in San Juan, Puerto Rico, if I needed to be in the line for the international check in. She tells me yes, that I just wait in this (long-ass) line and then go left. Ok. Cool. So about 10-15 minutes later of waiting in this line, this very “nice” airport worker comes up to me and yells at me that I my bags are too large and they have to be checked. Uh, DUH!!! Well, apparently the nice lady had told me to wait in the security line and NOT the line for international check in with American Airlines, so I was just, well, pissed. I just felt so stupid. I mean, I’ve traveled plenty before around the country, I’m not THAT inexperienced, but this guy just made me feel stupid…

But that’s not the worst part of it. So I finally get to the American Airlines international check-in counter line, I wait another 20-30 minutes because of this very large family of about 20 who are all checking in at the same time and creating this huge traffic jam of sorts and then finally I get to the counter. The lady asks me where Im going so I tell her and she has me put up my bags onto the scale thing and then tells me that, as I expected, my one suitcase is overweight and I will have to pay $100 ($50 for the overweight luggage part and $50 because I have two bags I’m checking). Ok. Not a problem. WRONG! After she sends them both down the belt and I am about ready to pay, she suddenly yells back at one of the other workers to take my overweight bag off the belt, right as it is about to go through the little opening and be taken into the depths of god knows where. Then she looks at me and says “The second bag can’t go”. WHAT! You can almost imagine the look of horror on my face. I felt my heart drop to my stomach and almost started to cry. Then I proceed to try to explain that I am moving to France for the year but I am going to Guadeloupe first to visit a friend and then going right from there to France. Couldn’t they make an exception? She very kindly explained to me that flights going to Caribbean cannot take overweight bags. Ok, so then I understood. I can take two bags, it’s just that I have to remove about 19 pounds of weight from it so it’s not overweight. I almost cried.

So I start going through my bag and pulling out assorted clothes and toiletries that I could throw out. In the end, I ended up throwing out all of my toiletries, the BEAUTIFUL candle that my friend gave me as a parting gift (SORRY SELBY!), and I ended up carrying my tuxedo suit (in it’s huge plastic case), my clarinet, my backpack (in which I managed to squeeze several more shirts and shorts), my pillow, the poster of Madison that I bought as a gift for Madly, Ingrid’s mom, and about 3 extra layers of clothing and a pair of jeans. So then of course I have a huge dilemma about how to make this work so that they would think I only had two carry-ons. The lady at the counter was sympathetic and very kindly helped me, suggesting that I put some of my clothes in with my pillow in the pillow case and put the poster in with the tuxedo. So I ended up with my backpack, pillow, clarinet, and my tuxedo thing stuffed full of stuff, not to mention the 3 extra layers of clothing I had to put on. So I finally get to the security line and the same “nice” guy who so kindly told me that I was in the wrong line now tells me that I can’t have all that stuff cause I can only have 3 carry ons. At this point I am just pissed off and I go off on him about how Im moving to a different country and what the hell am I supposed to do. Immediately I think that I will have to throw out my $400 tuxedo and all my clothes but then I manage to convince him that if I put my clarinet in with the tuxedo, then it’s only two, and he accepts.

So in the end I make it through security just fine (although I was subjected to the new full body scanners, which made me a bit uncomfortable, but at that point I was just happy to be making it through security) and I make my flight to San Juan, where I spent six glorious hours in the little airport there before catching my 8pm flight to Pointe-à-Pitre.

I was very proud of myself because other than the stuff at the O’hare airport, I didn’t speak almost any English the entire day! On the plane to San Juan, I sat next to two puertorriqueñas who didn’t speak any English so I spoke my (very basic) Spanish to them and managed to understand about 75% of what they were saying to me. Then on the plane from San Juan to Pointe-à-Pitre, I was the only American (and I know this because there was only about 30 people on the flight and everyone spoke French and had the red French passport, except for me) so the flight attendant, who must have assumed that I was Puerto Rican with my American passport, only spoke Spanish to me, which was cool, but I could only really reply with “si” and “gracias”. Then of course once I got to Guadeloupe, I only spoke French since Ingrid’s parents don’t speak English. So this is the end of my travel day story. My next post will be about my first few days in Guadeloupe so far. And remember travelers: PACK LIGHT!

Paix,

Doug (now officially known as “Doog”)