Tuesday night, on December 3, 2024, Jeff and I boarded an 11:00 flight on Qatar airlines, for a flight that would take 14.5 hours, from Dallas – Fort Worth (DFW) airport to the country, Qatar. From Qatar, we would board another plan for another 7-hour flight to our first destination Hanoi, the capital city of Vietnam. The purpose for this trip to Vietnam was to attend a traditional Vietnamese wedding for our dear family members, Johnny and Vy Cameron, in the city of Ho Chi Min (Saigon).
Not sure what to expect, I was pleasantly surprised to discover that the Qatar aircraft was very clean and extremely inviting, even though we were flying economy. The flight attendants, all of them beautiful women, wearing appealing outfits, with their hair fastened into uniformed buns at the nape of their necks, greeted us as we boarded the plane. We soon learned that their beauty included attentive and kind dispositions. However, from the moment we discovered our seats (three in a row) with an elderly woman (about my age) sitting in the middle seat clutching a large carry-on bag, trouble began to brew.
Jeff had booked our flight and seat assignment several months in advance. Jeff is more comfortable with aisle seats, so he is able to stretch out his long legs. My preference is the window, where I have a wall next to me to curl up to. As we took our seats, trying to settle our carry-ons for the flight, the woman began to raise a raucous. Animated, and standing with her bag held close to her chest, she loudly protested in Arabic against sitting in-between us. Then in English she insisted that one of us move so that we were sitting together. A troubled attendant patiently asked her to please settle down. The woman responded by calling, what I later learned was her son, on her cell phone. I could hear her son trying to settle her anxiety as she franticly asked him to intercede. They hung up. Moments later she called him again.
Growing more and more distressed, the lady insisted that the attendant find her another seat. To which, the attendant summoned the head attendant to explain to her that the plane was packed to the brim and no other seats were available. Again, the woman called her son.
The next issue arose when the head attendant insisted that she stow her large bag in the overhead storage compartment for takeoff. What happened next defined the word “conniption.”
She called her son.
The head attendant began to threaten to remove her from the plane. Their heated interaction continued for a several minutes, until an Arabic speaking man was found and come to her aid. He spoke calmly, and with kindness. Resigned, the lady agreed to let Jeff help her store her bag, and the plane prepared for takeoff.
The whole encounter ruffled both Jeff and my feathers. With such a long flight ahead of us we dreaded having to sit next to this woman. She was claiming both sides of the armrests next to her. I complained to Jeff when she briefly left for the restroom; Jeff empathized, he was experiencing the same emotions and evasion on her elbow into his side. When she returned, she struggled to retrieve a suitcase and the large bag from the overhead compartment. Jeff came to her rescue, placing the suitcase at her feet where it remained for the entire flight. The bag she held close to her chest. Once she was settled, a gentle tranquility fell upon the plane. The only sounds came from infants and toddlers and the humming sounds the plane’s engine made.
One of the nicest options Qatar airlines offers for parents is an infant bassinet that attaches to the wall in front of the parent’s seat. I was greatly impressed with the many small children who endured the flight and their parents who successfully kept them entertained and soothed. Memories of my flight from Connecticut to California with baby Juliann in tow flashed in my mind. Juli screamed and cried almost the entire time, no matter what I tried to do. No amount of jostling, patting, feeding, or walking the aisles helped.
I don’t remember who began the conversation, but the lady next to me and I soon started to share bits and pieces about ourselves. I learned that she was born, raised, and currently lived in Iraq. She asked me if I had ever visited her country. I told her I hadn’t, withholding that four of my boys had served in the Iraqi war to bring down Saddam Hussein. As a child, she descended from a very large family, then she birthed an equally large family of their own. Inspired by my interest, she began sharing family photos of, her children, grandchildren and friends telling me their names and who they were. Clearly, a great deal of love circulated among this family; this woman was loved and gave love in turn.
I learned that she was an English teacher in Iraq. Which surprised me, but taking in account our ability to converse and understand each other, I came to respect. When, she came across a photo of her husband who she told me had passed away a few years ago, she became grief stricken and pointed to Jeff. Immediately I was taken with how much Jeff looked like the man. And in that moment understood why sitting by Jeff distraught her. She had loved and still loved her husband. I believe there was a cultural issue too. As a widowed woman she felt it was improper sitting between a married couple. In this understanding she and I shared a quiet moment.
Dinner was served. The airline took care to cater to my gluten free needs. After the dinnerware was cleared away and our tables were stowed, we each again, settled into quiet place. My new friend shared with me a piece of gum. She had set the large bag she was clinging to on top on her suitcase while we ate. Fetching it she pulled from its contents a small case. Inside the case I saw insulin injection needles. I watched as she injected three shots into her belly and one into her thigh. I could tell that the injection in her thigh hurt, and my heart went out to her.
Immediately I understood the importance of the large bag and why she wanted to keep it close at hand. I too had a carry on containing the many medications that keep my body functioning. I too always carry my medications (and electronics) with me since someone working for the airline in Costa Rica, stole my medications, electronics and jewelry from my checked suitcase, leaving me stranded, which was something this lady couldn’t risk, because her diabetes was too serious!
Since we were in the midst of the holidays, I asked her if she had any celebrations approaching and was, taken by surprise when she told me that she was a believer in Jesus and celebrated Christmas. In fact, not only did her entire family celebrate the birth of Christ, but her surrounding neighborhood did to. My friend, and sister in Christ, told me that she opens her house to her family and neighbors who all congregate together. They feast on a wonderful meal and exchange small gifts.
When we parted ways, Jeff and I later saw her in the airport. She was sitting in a wheelchair with an attendant pushing her to her connective gate for her flight home to Iraq.
As I write this, I am sitting in a lovely lounge in Qatar airport. The lounge is clean, bathrooms too. The employees are once again beautiful people, sharply dressed and extremely attentive. Qatar airport is impressive! Large, beautifully decorated for the holidays. The lounge I’m in is the perfect place to retreat for a layover. In an hour, Jeff and I board another Qatar plane for our flight to Hanoi, Vietnam.