Confessions of a Hostie 3 Read online

  One of the guys suggests going to a local restaurant. I've actually been to it before and it is great. Wendy is the first to say 'let's go'. I could not tolerate it. It is not just Wendy; she I could ignore, but she brings down everyone around her. Julia quickly confesses she is tired and won't be going out. I know she's not tired, neither am I, but I too follow Julia's lead.

  I'm sure the boys don't want Wendy to come. One suggests that as Wendy is now in a wheelchair there may not be wheelchair access at the restaurant.

  Wendy insists 'I can walk if I really have to - just as long as there are no steps to climb. You'll help me, won't you?'

  That's enough for Julia and myself. We pull the pin.

  I go to my room and order room service. It is not the desired outcome, but sometimes this happens.

  My lifestyle can be incredibly social and, at other times, really lonely.

  I know many crew who struggle with that social side. There are times when even the most social crew have no one to hang-out with. I'm sociable with most, yet even I have trips where I spend most of the time away on my own - and, from my perspective, it is no fun.

  I was recently away on a seven-day trip and although the crew were nice, they all had their own plans. I had a total of four nights in hotels with not seeing a sole. Someone like my friend Helen would relish the opportunity to have some time on her own, away from the family, away from the mundane chores, but when you spend so much time away like I do, being on your own is not always a good thing. Given the choice, I would much prefer the company of someone intelligent and fun, than being on my own. Sometimes I have no choice.

  Trying to make the effort to get out and about on your own in a foreign city is not that easy. Most countries have security and safety issues, so being on your own is not ideal. In a city like Jakarta it is less than ideal - it is unwise.

  For tonight, I eat my room service Nasi Goreng, sip wine, and watch TV to contemplate what might have been.

  in the eye of the storm

  Sitting in a hotel room eating room service in an exotic destination is not why I became an international jetsetter. It is a harsh reality that not every trip or every day is going to be an exciting adventure. Often it is what you make of it, but when you have been living a lifestyle for as long as I have, one can get apathetic. Some crew seldom leave their rooms by choice. Eating alone in a hotel room is rare for me, yet for some it is a daily event. To me, enjoying life is about embracing the positive side of events and tolerating the negative. If the negatives outweigh the positives, then it is time to change your lifestyle - or attitude.

  No matter the occupation or lifestyle, everybody copes differently. I know of several fellow flyers who struggle with the lifestyle, some to the point of being on medication, including antidepressants. I'm not saying all blame rests with the job. What I can confidently say is: being an international flight attendant is a difficult lifestyle and often a lonely one. Some cope, some don't.

  As I eat the last of my delicious Nasi Goreng while watching a funny American sitcom within a beautiful five star hotel room, I think to myself: This is not so bad.

  If this is the worst of my layover stays, then I do indeed live a great life.

  I had a passenger recently who muttered that they were having the worst day of their life. It was all to do with a late departure (all 20 minutes of it) and not being able to secure an aisle seat on a full flight.

  I thought to myself: If this is the worst day of your life, then what a fantastic life you have.

  A friend jokes that the worst days for him are when he tells the voices in his head to be quiet - and they answer back.

  I laughed.

  Most things in life are about perspective. What should be minor to some becomes major - and vice versa. I'd like to think there are bigger issues in the world than letting the fact you are not sitting in an aisle seat ruin your life - or even your day.

  In saying that, I will be working a tad harder tomorrow because of one crew member's silliness. I won't let it ruin my day. I'll go to work with a positive approach.

  After a good night's sleep, thanks to the earlier massage bliss, I wake up refreshed. My call time is not until mid-afternoon. It is an awkward time to go to work; not enough hours in the day to do much, yet late enough to require some sort of rest prior to working what will be a long day and night. It is times like this that I try to do as much as I can before popping a sleeping pill to get four hours sleep before work.

  As I am clock-watching, I dare not venture too far from the hotel's vicinity, especially in a volatile traffic city like Jakarta. I venture to a nearby shopping center to discover it has a massage place. It slipped my mind to have another massage. I reassess my options: shopping or a massage? I check my watch. If I limit myself to an hour massage, then I can do both.

  I'm excited.

  This massage place is not as large or elaborate as yesterdays, but it is cheap and I am here and ready-to-go. What other justifications do I need?

  There are no body scrub options here; it is a room with reclining seats. You stay fully clothed with the massage through clothing. It is not the best massage I've ever had, but even an ordinary massage is still pretty damn good, I say.

  I do my best thinking while being massaged. An hour of relaxation refreshes the mind as well as the body. If I ever go into politics (which I won't) and they asked me my response to an extremely important issue, I'd say 'I'm off for a massage, I'll give you my answer in an hour.'

  I don't solve any global crises in my hour of 'think time', yet I use the time well to evaluate recent events and assess my attitude. I think of Wendy. I wish I didn't. It doesn't matter what positives I try to see in someone like Wendy, I can't. I am disappointed I feel that way, but I must learn to accept it and move on.

  Those I admire the most are those who have every reason to complain, yet don't. These are the people I'll spend more time thinking about.

  I return to the hotel and take my sleeping tablet. I doze off for four hours - no weird dreams, no false evacuation alarms, just four hours of forced sleep so I can function on the aircraft.

  The flight is full and of course and we are now operating one crew member short.

  'Think positive' I said to myself even when I have to carry one of Wendy's (many) bags. In an ironic yet predictable twist, she has the biggest and heaviest bags of all the crew. She is taken to the aircraft by ground staff in a wheelchair, dramatically standing up from the chair using all her weight on her 'good' leg. She makes sure all the crew see how distressed she is, then hops down the aisle muttering something about not wanting any assistance to her seat because she doesn't wish to be a burden. It must be noted that one of the crew carried Wendy's in-cabin bag to the seat, placing it in the overhead locker for her.

  The weather forecast for Jakarta is not good. Afternoon storms are predicted. We can see them rolling in, the sky in the distance jet-black. The captain tells the crew that if we get away on-time, we might avoid the storm, but it will be touch and go.

  It is not meant to be.

  A passenger has failed to board and their luggage is in the hold. The procedure in these instances is to remove their bags. That is easier said than done with a cargo hold full of bags. The storm gets closer.

  We finally push back from the gate, although we have missed our allotted slot to takeoff and now must queue behind several other aircraft on the runway. Then the storm hits.

  I've seen some amazing tropical thunderstorms, but this one takes the cake.

  All planes are grounded. The captain makes an announcement stating the obvious. How long we will be sitting on the runway is dependent on the weather gods. I look out the window. It doesn't look good, if anything it is getting worse.

  We are going nowhere, stuck on the runway as lightning flashes and sideways rain pelts the airport. The plane rocks. You wouldn't think it possible wind could affect an aircraft weighing over 240,000 kg (530,000 lb). Although we are stationary, the aircraft moves with
the gusts. It is not as bad as some inflight turbulence, nonetheless you can feel the aircraft swaying.

  Gee it looks bad out there, I say to myself. We are not going anywhere for a while.

  I am sitting on my jump seat at the back of the plane - on my own, not facing any passengers. The rain is so strong that the window looks like it is underwater. Flashes of lightning interrupt the blackness - and it is supposedly daylight outside.

  I'd hate to be out there.

  We spend over three hours on the ground. That's three hours stuck in my seat, just sitting there. The passengers watch movies, read books, or close their eyes. I can do nothing except look out the window, wondering when we will be going.

  As the aircraft is rocking with the wind, I contemplate just how powerful the gusts outside must be - and how tough aircrafts are. The wind is exceptionally strong, yet compared to some of the gusts up in the air, it is relatively a puff. Some of the wind-speeds at over 30,000 feet are astonishing. I've heard pilots talk of high altitude winds in excess of 200 knots; that's over 370 kph or 230 mph. A captain told me that at 35,000 feet there is a jet stream likened to a fast flowing river of air, with the speeds increasing as altitude increases. This jet stream blows in the same general direction (east-to-west), yet it can vary in intensity.

  Sometimes you fly with it, sometimes against it. That is why some flights are quicker than others. Traveling west is faster than going east. I did a recent flight, flying west-east, which took five hours, yet the return journey, being east-west, took seven hours - two hours longer. It is all to do with the jet stream. I am not an astrophysicist, but from my understanding, the jet stream is resultant from the Earth's rotation along with other factors, such as the sun's illumination.

  There are jet stream patterns, yet little consistency. The captain told me it is a complicated affair, whispering to me that he didn't really understand it - relying on aviation weather briefings preflight and inflight.

  Flying an aircraft is complex. I marvel at the mechanics of planes. We are in a massive aluminum tube full of heavy fixtures and fittings; there are over 250 passengers onboard, each with bags bulging at the seams; the plane is full of fuel; there is enough water onboard to flush toilets thousands of times as well as provide tea and coffee for the masses; the hold is jam-packed with commercial cargo and luggage; and enough drinks and food onboard to feed hundreds of people - twice. Airplanes are marvelous machines.

  The weather has cleared a little. From my seat I can see the tip of one of the wings. I can't see the engines, yet know there are only two engines on this aircraft. When you look at the size of the fuselage, the engines don't look that big, yet they can power this lumbering beast along a runway and drive it into the air at speed. It is impressive how much power these aircrafts have.

  The black clouds finally lift and the torrential rain subsides to a drizzle. We taxi to the end of the runway in preparation to takeoff.

  The sky still looks menacing as the plane powers along the runway, taking off to rise toward the foreboding heavens. I notice the pitch (the angle) of the aircraft is not as steep as usual. The pilots obviously need to keep the plane under the threatening clouds above. We bank several times, still at low altitude. I can only imagine how hard the pilots must be working.

  I look out my window to see lightning flashes and stormy clouds. The aircraft is shaking, although not as much as I would expect, given the wild conditions outside. We turn again and again, with flashes of lightning all around us. The pilots are doing an amazing job of keeping the plane relatively smooth.

  The captain makes a P.A. Due to the weather and the possibility of turbulence, he informs that the seatbelt sign will be kept on for some time. I know how busy the pilots must be, so it is impressive he has taken the time to keep the passengers and crew up-to-date. We continue climbing while twisting and turning around massive cloud banks.

  Some passengers watch movies, some sleep, others look out the window to see nature's light-show. There is no sound from any passengers. All I can hear are the aircraft noises; the usual rushing of air through the air-conditioning systems, the vibration of the bulkheads and internal structures, and the sounds of air running over the outside tail, wings, and fuselage. As the pilots have the aircraft working overtime to get around and though this storm cell, I can also hear the sounds of the onboard hydraulic systems.

  I am used to aircraft sounds. When there are atypical variances in pressure and speed, I can tell. Most passengers would have no idea of subtle changes in speed and elevation, however most experienced crew would. When the aircraft speeds up or slows down, it is barely noticeable within the cabin. I tend to know by sounds more than anything else, caused by changes in pressure outside the aircraft. It is more noticeable when the plane starts decent for landing. The pressurization in the cabin at this point can be detected, not just by sounds, but often discomfort in the ears. When the landing gear comes down, the sounds and vibrations of the aircraft are far more evident.

  The lightning continues to flash and the skies still look threatening. I can only imagine how difficult it must be for the pilots to find smooth air. They have all sorts of restrictions and considerations. We are not the only aircraft in the sky. The storm is massive and it is also moving. Other planes too must be trying to avoid the dangerous clouds and not every plane can fit (safely) into the same airspace. It must be an airport controller's nightmare with weather like this.

  Most of the passengers are oblivious to what is going on. We have turned at least 20 times - accelerating - decelerating - for over 30 minutes, yet we still haven't reached our cruising altitude. Even crew sometimes overlook that we are in a piece of machinery moving at great speed up in the sky - and sometimes that sky is not so friendly.

  I've spent over 20 years working in this environment. Even if I cannot hear the landing gear come down, I can feel the vibrations; if I cannot see the runway, I can still recognize that moment just before touchdown. I guess when you have done as many takeoffs and landings as I have, you become accustomed to how the aircraft responds.

  If anything out-of-the-ordinary occurs, especially noises, crew are generally the first to identify. The pilots have all the instrumentations, however we are the eyes and ears within the cabin. I was recently on a flight which had quite a hard landing. While taxiing on the runway I could hear what I presumed to be cargo rolling around in the hold. I waited until stopping at the aerobridge and the engines were turned off before calling the flight deck.

  In this instance some of the cargo, which had been strapped in, had obviously become unsecured. There was no real threat to the aircraft structure, as they are extremely tough, but there may be an issue for the baggage handlers when opening up the cargo doors. The captain had no idea of the loose cargo. He was appreciative of my actions and let the ground staff know.

  I've heard no cargo hold noises on this flight, thank goodness. Although the seatbelt sign has been on for what feels like an eternity, the aircraft is traveling relatively smoothly. The poor passengers have had nearly four hours in their seats now without food or drink. With one flight attendant down, we are going to be run of our feet.

  The seatbelt sign turns off.

  Let the mayhem begin...

  sometimes you are too busy to contemplate just how busy you really are

  There are so many adjectives to describe how busy we are, yet frantic is the first which comes to mind. The crew work at feverish pace to give each passenger dinner and a stiff drink. Most want more than one drink. Crew often use the phrase responsible service of alcohol in instances like this, but who can blame the passengers - they are all tired and hungry - so too the crew. It will be some time before we can eat and get a drink for ourselves.

  What I'd give right now for a glass of wine and some cheese and crackers.

  In an ironic twist, that is just what Wendy is doing while we run around at super-hero speed.

  I haven't even had time to go to the toilet - and I'm bursting. Bladder-contr
ol is another hostie skill I've developed over the years. A toilet every four paces is a low priority for airlines. Seats occupied by paying customers is what pays the airline's bills. Toilets, from the airline company's perspective, are an evil necessity. I've even heard of one low-cost carrier contemplating charging for toilet usage with a coin-in-the-slot entry system. The airline may have implemented the scheme already, but imagine telling a passenger that unless they have a coin in their hand, then they can't go to the toilet?

  That's one flight I would not like to be on.

  On our flight, toiletry sanity prevails, however I still don't have time to use one of our onboard toilets. Crew don't have a separate toilet, so we too need to queue with the masses. We often don't have time to queue. The only real time there are no queues is during a meal service - and we can't very well leave a cart in the middle of the aisle to go pee. I hold on.

  Some of the passengers use the meal service to access the now-vacant toilets. Often that means passing us in the aisle while working on a cart. Aisles are skinny, there are no overtaking lanes. A cart is almost the width of an aisle, so unless someone has the hips of Popeye's girlfriend Olive Oil, then either 'Olive Oil' will be stuck on that side of the cart, or the crew and the cart need to move. Every time we move it delays the service, meaning those who have yet to be served need to wait even longer.

  'We will let you pass shortly' often falls on deaf ears, with the passengers feeling this inherent need to jam up as close as they can to us - even when the whole aisle behind them is free. You have no idea how irritating it is to feel a knee in your butt every time you bend over to grab a tray from a cart. I realize that a plane is akin to a sardine tin, however spatial awareness does not exist for some.