/.../
Estonian Air - TLL-> AMS
Kui lennukisse sain ning pilvede kohale tõusin, tegi päike mu põsele pai - sain aru, et see oli ainuõige otsus - quest for the sun has begun.
Kui lennukisse sain ning pilvede kohale tõusin, tegi päike mu põsele pai - sain aru, et see oli ainuõige otsus - quest for the sun has begun.
Üritan magada.
Amsterdam, uutest turvaväravatest läbi (sest lend ju euroopast väljapoole) - turva küsib mu käest, et kuhu minek.
- Mina, et San Franciscosse.
- Aahah, seepärast ka kitarr, jah.
- Jah, just just. Siis tema muigega, et..
- "Salvestad plaadi, vä?" - Ma siis muigega vastu, et
- "Loodetavasti".
KLM - AMS- SFO
Mu kõrval on üks keskealine indiapäritolu meesterahvas (kes Tallinna asemel vist Delhi mu kodulinnaks kuulis) ning teisel pool naisterahvas, kel pisikese kotiga veel pisem kutsu kaasas. Vaene koerake, kes peale kaheksat lennutundi viimased kaks-pool (minu) südant lõhestavalt nutab. Kas droogide mõju hakkas kaduma, kõrvad lukus või põis lõhkemas - ei tea.
Mu kõrval on üks keskealine indiapäritolu meesterahvas (kes Tallinna asemel vist Delhi mu kodulinnaks kuulis) ning teisel pool naisterahvas, kel pisikese kotiga veel pisem kutsu kaasas. Vaene koerake, kes peale kaheksat lennutundi viimased kaks-pool (minu) südant lõhestavalt nutab. Kas droogide mõju hakkas kaduma, kõrvad lukus või põis lõhkemas - ei tea.
Lennuki toit on sitt ja pask - esimene eine mingid seened ning teine pizza. Üritan maksimaalselt magada. Vaatan ära "The Master'i" - siis magan veel. Ärkan taas, joon ühe minipudeli punast veini, jään purupurju ning magan veel. Vahepealsed tegevused on paar osa Suits'i, varvaste sirutamine ning vetsujärjekorras seismine.
USA - passikontroll.
Õnneks jõuan järjekorda suhteliselt esimeste hulgas ning saba mu selja taga venib paarisajapealiseks minutitega. Veel 15-20 minutit ootamist ning ongi minu kord.
Tavapärane kontroll - kust tulen, kuhu lähen, puhkus - töö?
- Nii, kelle aadress see siin paberil on (üks vorm, mis tuli lennukisolles täita ning siis passikontrollis esitada).
- Ütlen, et sõbra oma.
Selle peale meesterahvas naeratab veidralt ning ütles, et
Selle peale meesterahvas naeratab veidralt ning ütles, et
- "kui sa ööbid kellegi juures kaks kuud, siis vähim mis sa teha saad, on teda ikkagi oma noormeheks kutsuda. Millega Su noormees tegeleb?"
(misjasja? niimoodi siis leibeldataksegi ja defineeritakse suhteid. väga huvitav!)
Veel huvitavaid küsimusi:
- kuidas Sa said endale lubada olla kaks kuud töölt eemal?
- vastus: järelikult on mul hea boss.
-Kas kavatsed Usas ka tööd teha.
-Ei, mitte ametlikult.
(Oh FAKKKK! Kes ütleb passikontrollis, "ei, mitte ametlikult". Hallooo!!!)
Selle peale lähevad ka härral silmad tagurpidi, et misasja.
Noh, mina siis välja vabandama, et pole plaanis tööd teha, aga teha tööd (?!) .. oma projekti kallal.
- Mis projekt see on?
- Ma uurin.. mängu. (Appii, Loore, kas tõesti lollusel pole piire???)
- WHAT? What game?
(Kuna samal ajal pean andma masinale ka oma sõrmejälgi, siis tollele ekraanile jäävad minust maha neli märga laiku).
Mees leebub ning ütleb, et hea küll, las jääb.
Mul on süles mu arvutikott.
Ta küsib, et mis seal sees veel on.
Vastan, et arvuti ning mõned dokumendid.
- Palun näidake ette.
Kisun lehed välja. Samal ajal kui ta lappab mu lennupiletite koopiaid, kindlustust, ESTA-kinnitust jne, leiab ta äkki nende vahelt ka ühe roosal paberil eestikeelse to-do listi, mida enne reisi oma töölaual hoidsin-täitsin-maha kriipsutasin. See haarab ta tähelepanu ning küsib, et millega tegu.
Kisun lehed välja. Samal ajal kui ta lappab mu lennupiletite koopiaid, kindlustust, ESTA-kinnitust jne, leiab ta äkki nende vahelt ka ühe roosal paberil eestikeelse to-do listi, mida enne reisi oma töölaual hoidsin-täitsin-maha kriipsutasin. See haarab ta tähelepanu ning küsib, et millega tegu.
No ma siis jälle puterdama, et see on eesti keeles ning näe, seal on et pass ja check-in allpool kirjutatud ja ülemised asjad on, et a la raha vahetada jne.
Selle peale tuleb altkulmupilk ning mittemidagiütlev noogutus. Siis lajatab hoolega igasuguseid templeid igale poole ning soovib hääd olemist. (Huh, vedas!)
Siis otsin ütles oma pagasi ning loodan, et sellega mu grillimine läbi on. Kus Sa sellega. Tollele eelmainitud vormile on ta peale kritseldatud mingi märke, mis mind mõni hetk hiljem pagasikontrollis miskipärast hoopis teise järjekorda saadab. Nonnii?!
Minu ees on üks noormees, kelle kotti ikka korralikult läbi tuulatakse ning millest vähemalt kolmandik selle kõrval olevasse prügiurni lendab. Kontrollija avab noormehe kotis olevaid pakikesi ning pudeleid ning viskab neid lõdva randmega hoolimatult sellesse musta kilekotti. Okei, siin lähevad mu must leib ning Kama, šokolaadid ning kamatahvlid, mõtlen. Lisaks veel mine tea mis muu hirm ja häbi mu peale langeb, et seda vormi täites allkirjaga kinnitasin, et mu kotis ei ole toitu.
Äkitselt hõikab keegi "palun, neiu, tulge siia poole". See on kõrvalboksi kontrollija-noormees. Ka tema küsib, kust tulen-mis eesmärgil-kuhu lähen-keda külastan?
-"Noormehele külla", vastan kiirelt viis minutit tagasi õpitud kogemuse najalt.
- "Kitarr kaasas - muusik, jah?"
- Jajah, ja töötan näitlejana.
- "Oh-oho, mis filmides sa siis näidelnud oled?", küsib noormees, lootuses vast kuulsusega tutvuda.
- "Ei, ma töötan teatris".
- Aaa, ahah.
Ja vestlus lõppeb. Sellega tema huvi ka piirdub, ka seljakott ei huvita enam ning soovib mulle head. Naeratan ning higiloikudega mu kaenlaall tuigerdan väljapääsu poole. Kogu see eelnev on kõvasti mu energiat kulutanud ning tunnen kuidas veresuhkur on langenud koos hirmuga saapasäärde ning ka suukuivamist keele närimine kuidagi ei leevenda. Kuid kui ootamatult 15 sekundit hiljem lennujaamast välja astun ning taamal terendavad mäed ning kiiskav päike mult silmanägemise võtavad on kõik eelmainitu justkui kadunud ning naeratus valgub üle mu keha. Everything makes sense. Ning ma olen nii tänulik. Juba nüüd.
Ja vestlus lõppeb. Sellega tema huvi ka piirdub, ka seljakott ei huvita enam ning soovib mulle head. Naeratan ning higiloikudega mu kaenlaall tuigerdan väljapääsu poole. Kogu see eelnev on kõvasti mu energiat kulutanud ning tunnen kuidas veresuhkur on langenud koos hirmuga saapasäärde ning ka suukuivamist keele närimine kuidagi ei leevenda. Kuid kui ootamatult 15 sekundit hiljem lennujaamast välja astun ning taamal terendavad mäed ning kiiskav päike mult silmanägemise võtavad on kõik eelmainitu justkui kadunud ning naeratus valgub üle mu keha. Everything makes sense. Ning ma olen nii tänulik. Juba nüüd.
15 minutit hiljem saabub ka eelpool mainitud "boyfriend" ning avatud akendega kihutab volvo-loks-luks juba esimestesse ummikutesse ning sealt läbi biitchile, IPA õlled tagapingil kolisemas. Sülle pannakse mulle paberkott lõhnavaid mandariine ning kätt autoaknast lennukitiiva kombel välja sirutades tunnen kui hästi juba kõik on. Enne õhtut jõuab veel ka San Franciscos pisikese jalutuskäigu teha ning pisikesest poekesest "Somewhere over the rainbow"-viisiga kellamäng osta (see sama, mis mul kolm aastat tagasi Lissabonist ostmata jäi). Ent selleks hetkeks on mul silm ja samm kokku jooksmas ning 36tunnine ärkvelolek annab teadvusele tunda, et see pole see pole see ning korterisse jõudes suudan veel vaid aseme leida ning sellega lõpeb mu päev. Öösel ärkan veel paar korda, uskudes, et on ikka veel eesti aeg, ent ei.
Nüüd on hoopis teine aeg.
---
Estonian Air - TLL - AMS
When I got to the plane and as we rose above the clouds, the sun stroke my cheek - i knew that this was the one and only decision - quest for the sun has begun.
I try to sleep.
Amsterdam, new security gates (because the flight goes outside from europe) - the security asks me, where i am going.
-To San Francisco
- Oh, so that's why You have a guitar, right?
- Yes, exactly.
- You're going to release a record (he asks, with a little smile on his face)
- Hopefully, I say, and smile back at him.
KLM - AMS - SFO
On my left is sitting a middle-age indian man (who instead of Tallinn probably heard that i live in Delhi) and on my right is a middle-age woman, who carries a small dog with her. Poor dog, who after eight hours of flight the last two and half is crying his (and my) heart out. Probably the drugs don't work any more, or his ears popped or needs to pee - i dont know.
The food is totally crap - first meal is some sort of mushrooms and the second a pizza. I try to sleep some more. I watch "The Master" and sleep some more. I wake up, drink a mini bottle of red wine, which luckily thanks to the fact that I'm so drunk, gives me a good sleep. Other activities during flight - couple of episodes of the Suits, stretching my toes and standing in the line for the restrooms.
USA - passport control
Luckily this time I'm in the front end of the line and the tail behind me grows really long in just minutes. Yet another 15-20 minutes and I'm up.
The regular questions - where do I come from, where am I going, work or vacation?
-Who's address is here on the paper (i had to fill up a form during flight and give to the man in the security check).
- He's a friend of mine.
The man makes this funny grin and says
-"if You're going to stay at someones place for two months, the least You can do is call him Your boyfriend! (Pause!) What does Your boyfriend do?"
---
Estonian Air - TLL - AMS
When I got to the plane and as we rose above the clouds, the sun stroke my cheek - i knew that this was the one and only decision - quest for the sun has begun.
I try to sleep.
Amsterdam, new security gates (because the flight goes outside from europe) - the security asks me, where i am going.
-To San Francisco
- Oh, so that's why You have a guitar, right?
- Yes, exactly.
- You're going to release a record (he asks, with a little smile on his face)
- Hopefully, I say, and smile back at him.
KLM - AMS - SFO
On my left is sitting a middle-age indian man (who instead of Tallinn probably heard that i live in Delhi) and on my right is a middle-age woman, who carries a small dog with her. Poor dog, who after eight hours of flight the last two and half is crying his (and my) heart out. Probably the drugs don't work any more, or his ears popped or needs to pee - i dont know.
The food is totally crap - first meal is some sort of mushrooms and the second a pizza. I try to sleep some more. I watch "The Master" and sleep some more. I wake up, drink a mini bottle of red wine, which luckily thanks to the fact that I'm so drunk, gives me a good sleep. Other activities during flight - couple of episodes of the Suits, stretching my toes and standing in the line for the restrooms.
USA - passport control
Luckily this time I'm in the front end of the line and the tail behind me grows really long in just minutes. Yet another 15-20 minutes and I'm up.
The regular questions - where do I come from, where am I going, work or vacation?
-Who's address is here on the paper (i had to fill up a form during flight and give to the man in the security check).
- He's a friend of mine.
The man makes this funny grin and says
-"if You're going to stay at someones place for two months, the least You can do is call him Your boyfriend! (Pause!) What does Your boyfriend do?"
(What? This is how we label our relationships? Ok, that's interesting!)
More following questions:
-How could You afford Yourself a two-months trip away from work?
-I guess, i have a great boss.
-Are You going to work in USA?
-No, I mean, not officially.
(F*!!! Who says in security check that "not officially"?)
The man in front of me starts rolling his eyes. Therefore I start to apologise that, I'm not going to work, but.. to.. to do work (?!).. on a project of mine.
-What kind of a project?
-I'm interested in games and playing. (OMG!!!)
-What? What games???
Meanwhile I am supposed to give my fingerprints to one machine, yet of it's screen will be left only four wet marks.
Luckily he gives in pretty soon.
I'm carrying my mac-book in a sleeve. He asks, what else is in that bag.
I say, that a computer and some documents.
-Please, show me.
I take out the papers. As he is going through the print-outs of my tickets, insurance, ESTA-confirmation etc. he finds a little pink paper with a to-do list on it, written in estonian. He finds it interesting/suspicious (?) and asks, what is it.
As I'm quite nervous already, i start muttering.. it says.. pass - passport, check-in - You can read that, raha - money.
He gives me this look and a nod which says nothing and gets me even more confused. Then he slams all kinds of stamps everywhere and wishes me all the best. (Thank God, I got lucky!)
I go get my luggage and assume that this humiliation is now over. Oh no, no, no! On the fill-out-form he has scribbled some kind of a symbol, which a moment later takes me to another line. Oh, okay!?
In front of me is a young man who's bags get total make over and which contents (at least a third of it) finds it's way to a trash bin. The security -guy opens up several bottles and bags and throws them away without giving any serious thought about it. Ok, here goes my black bread and kama and chocolate and kama-bars, i assume. Including, i have no idea what kind of trouble i will get into because of my signature that i have to the fill-out-form saying i do not have any food in my bag.
Suddenly, someone shouts out "Hey, miss, please come this way". Another security guy is now ready for me. Again the same questions - where to, where from, why?
- I'm visiting my boyfriend! I shout out (because that's the label he just got five minutes ago.
-You have a guitar - You're a musician, yeah?
- Yes, and an actress.
-Oh, awesome! Which films are You in? he asks, hoping to meet a celebrity, probably.
- No, I work in a theater.
- Ehm, ok.
And that's the end of our conversation. He's not interested in me nor my bags any more and he wishes me all the best. I smile and feel the cold sweat all over my body as I find my way to the exit. All this previous has taken a lot of energy and I feel how the blood sugar has dropped down-down-down and my mouth is dry-dry-dry. Yet suddenly, 15 seconds later, as I step outside from the airport and the beautiful weather and mountains and sunshine take not only my breath away but I also lose my eyesight, I forget all the horrible stupid things I just experienced. I am so happy! Everything makes sense! I am so grateful! Already!
15 minutes later "the boyfriend" arrives and with the windows rolled down, our super-trooper-Volvo rushes through the traffic to the beach - IPA beers clanging on the backseat. I am given a paper bag full of tangerines. I put my arm outside the window as a wing and can feel how good everything already is. Before night we can make a short walk in Mission, SF and buy a small musicbox singing "Somewhere over the rainbow" - the one i never bought when i visited Liis in Lisbon three years ago. Yet by that time I'm out of breath and energy and the 36hrs-day is finally hitting me. As we get to the apartment I can barely find a pillow and that is the end of my day. During night I wake up still believing it to be the Estonian time. But now.
Now is a totally different kind of time.
More following questions:
-How could You afford Yourself a two-months trip away from work?
-I guess, i have a great boss.
-Are You going to work in USA?
-No, I mean, not officially.
(F*!!! Who says in security check that "not officially"?)
The man in front of me starts rolling his eyes. Therefore I start to apologise that, I'm not going to work, but.. to.. to do work (?!).. on a project of mine.
-What kind of a project?
-I'm interested in games and playing. (OMG!!!)
-What? What games???
Meanwhile I am supposed to give my fingerprints to one machine, yet of it's screen will be left only four wet marks.
Luckily he gives in pretty soon.
I'm carrying my mac-book in a sleeve. He asks, what else is in that bag.
I say, that a computer and some documents.
-Please, show me.
I take out the papers. As he is going through the print-outs of my tickets, insurance, ESTA-confirmation etc. he finds a little pink paper with a to-do list on it, written in estonian. He finds it interesting/suspicious (?) and asks, what is it.
As I'm quite nervous already, i start muttering.. it says.. pass - passport, check-in - You can read that, raha - money.
He gives me this look and a nod which says nothing and gets me even more confused. Then he slams all kinds of stamps everywhere and wishes me all the best. (Thank God, I got lucky!)
I go get my luggage and assume that this humiliation is now over. Oh no, no, no! On the fill-out-form he has scribbled some kind of a symbol, which a moment later takes me to another line. Oh, okay!?
In front of me is a young man who's bags get total make over and which contents (at least a third of it) finds it's way to a trash bin. The security -guy opens up several bottles and bags and throws them away without giving any serious thought about it. Ok, here goes my black bread and kama and chocolate and kama-bars, i assume. Including, i have no idea what kind of trouble i will get into because of my signature that i have to the fill-out-form saying i do not have any food in my bag.
Suddenly, someone shouts out "Hey, miss, please come this way". Another security guy is now ready for me. Again the same questions - where to, where from, why?
- I'm visiting my boyfriend! I shout out (because that's the label he just got five minutes ago.
-You have a guitar - You're a musician, yeah?
- Yes, and an actress.
-Oh, awesome! Which films are You in? he asks, hoping to meet a celebrity, probably.
- No, I work in a theater.
- Ehm, ok.
And that's the end of our conversation. He's not interested in me nor my bags any more and he wishes me all the best. I smile and feel the cold sweat all over my body as I find my way to the exit. All this previous has taken a lot of energy and I feel how the blood sugar has dropped down-down-down and my mouth is dry-dry-dry. Yet suddenly, 15 seconds later, as I step outside from the airport and the beautiful weather and mountains and sunshine take not only my breath away but I also lose my eyesight, I forget all the horrible stupid things I just experienced. I am so happy! Everything makes sense! I am so grateful! Already!
15 minutes later "the boyfriend" arrives and with the windows rolled down, our super-trooper-Volvo rushes through the traffic to the beach - IPA beers clanging on the backseat. I am given a paper bag full of tangerines. I put my arm outside the window as a wing and can feel how good everything already is. Before night we can make a short walk in Mission, SF and buy a small musicbox singing "Somewhere over the rainbow" - the one i never bought when i visited Liis in Lisbon three years ago. Yet by that time I'm out of breath and energy and the 36hrs-day is finally hitting me. As we get to the apartment I can barely find a pillow and that is the end of my day. During night I wake up still believing it to be the Estonian time. But now.
Now is a totally different kind of time.
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