What follows is a set of observations, little stories gathered on my plane ride from Haiti back home to Johannesburg.
An American colleague in Haiti told me that Haitian rum is well worth taking home. Unfortunately, I hadn’t had any time or means to get to a store to buy some during my days there. I had no hope that I would be able to buy it at the airport given my experience at arrivals. Picture an old, small, run down arrival terminal with one baggage carousel . My guess is that it never was a luxurious airport to begin with but now even less so since half was destroyed during the earthquake. So, after clearing security, imagine my delight when I saw a tiny closet of a room with a pass through window where the only product for sale was duty-free Barbancourt Rum. Had a bit of communication difficulties at first – my poor French, lady behind the counter doing her best with English. I wanted to know what kind of rum, of the 5 available, she recommended for a mojito? Cocktail? Mixed drink? None of these words worked, and I realized when she pointed me to the cafe/bar next door, that she must have interpreted my efforts at communication as desperation for a cocktail then and there. I managed to convey that I was not a drunk dying for a fix and I ended up with 3 nice bottles – one white, one reserve, and one fruit (just to try it) for $27 total.
Arriving at JFK
The Good News: almost without exception, every official I encountered was friendly and helpful. Friendly immigration guy with a classic Brooklyn accent took the time to inform me about hotel shuttle procedure; Information desk guy gave excellent AirTrain instructions; guy at Federal Circle AirTrain stop was almost overbearing in his effort to be helpful.
The Bad News: It is winter in New York and that is depressing. Everyone on the AirTrain looked drawn and pale, even brown skinned people looked pale. And why, oh why, oh why, do we insist on wearing dark, drab colors in winter. You look outside and everything is grey. The color has simply drained away. Why then wouldn’t we choose clothes that look like gardens to get us through these cold lifeless months? Imagine how different our moods would be if everyone wore winter coats with flowers on them? Big gold sunflowers, bright red dahlias, soft pink tulips? Of course, I wouldn’t expect that everyone could pull off the bold garden coat. But is it too much to ask that instead of the navy down jacket we insist that the store carry coats that are willow tree green, sunshine yellow? Can someone please make this happen before I come back?????
Back at JFK in the morning to take the final leg of my trip NYC to Joburg. Do the “Hands in the air or I’ll shoot” pose at security. Wait for the call to come through. This time my head and left arm raise no suspicion. But apparently my rear end does. A rear end pat down. Very nice way to start the day.
Just FYI there is No Starbucks in Terminal 4 at JFK. There are at least 3 Peets, which I know is fantastic for all the dark roast lovers out there, but I was jonesing for a Starbucks Chai given my Pavlovian Addiction (and you would get this if you read my last post from the trip over). Peets, which never used to carry Chai, must have decided to lower its standards because I see on the menu board, which is titled in big capital letters HAND CRAFTED BEVERAGES (ridiculous), that it now carries a Masala Chai Latte. My conclusion: It is expensive and yucky and best to take it off their menu of “HAND CRAFTED BEVERAGES.”
I am guessing that there must be a law in NY that restaurants – or maybe just coffee shops –post the calorie count of their offerings. I realized that after my Medium Chai, egg/ham thingy, and a medium peppermint mocha (which I tried to see if I still like them – I don’t), I came close to consuming my entire recommended daily caloric intake. Wow. Good to know. Thank you government regulation!
Today’s copy of USA Today – you know the free copy that comes outside your hotel room door and that you enjoy with your Peets chai -- had an article about this new sampling machine which registers your age through some sensors and if you fit the right profile - in this case, an adult – it will dispense a sample of Temptation dessert. Comment from Stephen Keith Platt, director of the Platt Retail Institute, a research and consulting firm specializing in the consumer experience, “This is wow. I’ll now have the ability to interact with a cool device that dispenses a unique product versus walking up to some old lady with a white apron on.” I think I wouldn't like this S.K. Platt guy very much.
NJ mom with 9 and 13 year old girls getting ready to board flight to Joburg. Dad sits only a few feet away but with his nose buried in his centimeter wide blackberry, he has created a mile of psychic distance. Clearly, the mother has a plan for getting the family through this flight and ready for SA. Says, “girls, get ready because in a few minutes I am changing my watch to the time where we are going.” To younger daughter, “you will be going to sleep at 4:00 this afternoon because that is 11pm SA time. I have medicine to make you go to sleep.” When she implements the next phase of her plan it become evident that she has lost the power to boss her elder daughter. The elder one reads while Mom leads the younger one in pre-board exercises. I don’t think she has much longer with younger daughter as I have never seen such lackadaisical arm circles. As I move away, I hear her say, “well, honey, why don’t you do downward dog.”
I got a little panicky yesterday when I saw I was reaching the end of the one and only novel I brought along on this trip and still had the 14 hour NY-Joburg plane ride ahead of me. (The book is The Help – which I could do a whole other ranting blog post about but probably won’t.) So, I treated myself to a browse at Hudson books in the airport. When traveling in the states I would occasionally allow myself to buy a book at the airport, but always felt somewhat guilty about spending the money as I could always get the book at our local library. Now, though, with books so expensive in South Africa, and the libraries not very well stocked, I treated myself to not one but two books! It made me realize that good libraries are in my top 5 things I miss about America.
At 9:55 am, boarding time, I am waiting by the gate when a slightly disheveled young woman with shiny gossamer threads in her hair arrives just as a tall (as tall as me and I love her for that) well put-together late thirties woman arrives. Shiny thread girl turns to well put-together woman, and with a big bubbly grin says, “I knew it - you too for gate B 26. I knew I recognized your accent!” Just then an announcement informs us that our boarding will be delayed for 20 minutes due to flight crew caught in NY traffic. Bubbles turns to new best friend and says, “Come on, let’s go get a margarita!!” Well put-together woman, smiling uncertainly, follows Party Girl Bubbles without a word, as if caught in the spell of her shiny threads.
Can I make two movie recommendations from my there and back viewing? Win-Win with Paul Giamatti is excellent (great story with multiple threads, believable dialogue, likable and real characters) as is a South African film, Black Butterfly (about poet Ingrid Jonka). Two very strong unrecommendations: Larry Crowne with Tom Hanks (Tom, you disappoint me with this silliness) and The Notebook (reminded me of that schlocky Titanic).
An American colleague in Haiti told me that Haitian rum is well worth taking home. Unfortunately, I hadn’t had any time or means to get to a store to buy some during my days there. I had no hope that I would be able to buy it at the airport given my experience at arrivals. Picture an old, small, run down arrival terminal with one baggage carousel . My guess is that it never was a luxurious airport to begin with but now even less so since half was destroyed during the earthquake. So, after clearing security, imagine my delight when I saw a tiny closet of a room with a pass through window where the only product for sale was duty-free Barbancourt Rum. Had a bit of communication difficulties at first – my poor French, lady behind the counter doing her best with English. I wanted to know what kind of rum, of the 5 available, she recommended for a mojito? Cocktail? Mixed drink? None of these words worked, and I realized when she pointed me to the cafe/bar next door, that she must have interpreted my efforts at communication as desperation for a cocktail then and there. I managed to convey that I was not a drunk dying for a fix and I ended up with 3 nice bottles – one white, one reserve, and one fruit (just to try it) for $27 total.
Arriving at JFK
The Good News: almost without exception, every official I encountered was friendly and helpful. Friendly immigration guy with a classic Brooklyn accent took the time to inform me about hotel shuttle procedure; Information desk guy gave excellent AirTrain instructions; guy at Federal Circle AirTrain stop was almost overbearing in his effort to be helpful.
The Bad News: It is winter in New York and that is depressing. Everyone on the AirTrain looked drawn and pale, even brown skinned people looked pale. And why, oh why, oh why, do we insist on wearing dark, drab colors in winter. You look outside and everything is grey. The color has simply drained away. Why then wouldn’t we choose clothes that look like gardens to get us through these cold lifeless months? Imagine how different our moods would be if everyone wore winter coats with flowers on them? Big gold sunflowers, bright red dahlias, soft pink tulips? Of course, I wouldn’t expect that everyone could pull off the bold garden coat. But is it too much to ask that instead of the navy down jacket we insist that the store carry coats that are willow tree green, sunshine yellow? Can someone please make this happen before I come back?????
Back at JFK in the morning to take the final leg of my trip NYC to Joburg. Do the “Hands in the air or I’ll shoot” pose at security. Wait for the call to come through. This time my head and left arm raise no suspicion. But apparently my rear end does. A rear end pat down. Very nice way to start the day.
Just FYI there is No Starbucks in Terminal 4 at JFK. There are at least 3 Peets, which I know is fantastic for all the dark roast lovers out there, but I was jonesing for a Starbucks Chai given my Pavlovian Addiction (and you would get this if you read my last post from the trip over). Peets, which never used to carry Chai, must have decided to lower its standards because I see on the menu board, which is titled in big capital letters HAND CRAFTED BEVERAGES (ridiculous), that it now carries a Masala Chai Latte. My conclusion: It is expensive and yucky and best to take it off their menu of “HAND CRAFTED BEVERAGES.”
I am guessing that there must be a law in NY that restaurants – or maybe just coffee shops –post the calorie count of their offerings. I realized that after my Medium Chai, egg/ham thingy, and a medium peppermint mocha (which I tried to see if I still like them – I don’t), I came close to consuming my entire recommended daily caloric intake. Wow. Good to know. Thank you government regulation!
Today’s copy of USA Today – you know the free copy that comes outside your hotel room door and that you enjoy with your Peets chai -- had an article about this new sampling machine which registers your age through some sensors and if you fit the right profile - in this case, an adult – it will dispense a sample of Temptation dessert. Comment from Stephen Keith Platt, director of the Platt Retail Institute, a research and consulting firm specializing in the consumer experience, “This is wow. I’ll now have the ability to interact with a cool device that dispenses a unique product versus walking up to some old lady with a white apron on.” I think I wouldn't like this S.K. Platt guy very much.
NJ mom with 9 and 13 year old girls getting ready to board flight to Joburg. Dad sits only a few feet away but with his nose buried in his centimeter wide blackberry, he has created a mile of psychic distance. Clearly, the mother has a plan for getting the family through this flight and ready for SA. Says, “girls, get ready because in a few minutes I am changing my watch to the time where we are going.” To younger daughter, “you will be going to sleep at 4:00 this afternoon because that is 11pm SA time. I have medicine to make you go to sleep.” When she implements the next phase of her plan it become evident that she has lost the power to boss her elder daughter. The elder one reads while Mom leads the younger one in pre-board exercises. I don’t think she has much longer with younger daughter as I have never seen such lackadaisical arm circles. As I move away, I hear her say, “well, honey, why don’t you do downward dog.”
I got a little panicky yesterday when I saw I was reaching the end of the one and only novel I brought along on this trip and still had the 14 hour NY-Joburg plane ride ahead of me. (The book is The Help – which I could do a whole other ranting blog post about but probably won’t.) So, I treated myself to a browse at Hudson books in the airport. When traveling in the states I would occasionally allow myself to buy a book at the airport, but always felt somewhat guilty about spending the money as I could always get the book at our local library. Now, though, with books so expensive in South Africa, and the libraries not very well stocked, I treated myself to not one but two books! It made me realize that good libraries are in my top 5 things I miss about America.
At 9:55 am, boarding time, I am waiting by the gate when a slightly disheveled young woman with shiny gossamer threads in her hair arrives just as a tall (as tall as me and I love her for that) well put-together late thirties woman arrives. Shiny thread girl turns to well put-together woman, and with a big bubbly grin says, “I knew it - you too for gate B 26. I knew I recognized your accent!” Just then an announcement informs us that our boarding will be delayed for 20 minutes due to flight crew caught in NY traffic. Bubbles turns to new best friend and says, “Come on, let’s go get a margarita!!” Well put-together woman, smiling uncertainly, follows Party Girl Bubbles without a word, as if caught in the spell of her shiny threads.
Can I make two movie recommendations from my there and back viewing? Win-Win with Paul Giamatti is excellent (great story with multiple threads, believable dialogue, likable and real characters) as is a South African film, Black Butterfly (about poet Ingrid Jonka). Two very strong unrecommendations: Larry Crowne with Tom Hanks (Tom, you disappoint me with this silliness) and The Notebook (reminded me of that schlocky Titanic).
Hey Caroline - I hadn't seen this post. I LOVE it! so what happened with bubbles gossamer and the older woman on the flight? Did you see?
ReplyDeleteAnd I'd love to know what you thought of The Help.