Going Dutch

4.11.11

10 p.m. Atlanta to Amsterdam

Tight squeeze onto monster KLM jet. People all around speaking many different languages. I recognize German, maybe some Arabic. For the first time on this trip I feel like a stranger. I find my seat and am dismayed to learn I will be sandwiched in the middle for the nearly 9-hour flight to Holland, where I will make the connection to Kenya. There is a trim little old man with silver hair and a tweed blazer in the aisle seat. When I excuse myself and apologize for needing to get by, he looks up but doesn't move, and I realize he does not speak English.

Is he Turkish? Albanian? Each of his movements is precise and slow the way people move in bed after surgery. When I squeeze past, he silently motions toward the luggage racks. When I tell him I will put my bag under the seat in front of me, he shrugs barely, lifts the palms of his hands in acceptance.

I find Black Swan on the movie screen and poke it. When Nina begins masturbating in her bedroom, I wonder about airplane movie etiquette. There is a 30-ish woman with braids immediately to my left, but I dare not look to see if she is viewing the sex on my screen, a mere 24 inches or so from her face. The little man, however, has definitely noticed. He begins flapping his lapels back and forth. I hear throat clearances and some shifting around in his seat. I hope that Nina will be finished soon and ponder ending the video. Maybe I can find some Everyone Loves Raymond.

I disembark in Amsterdam into the giant Lego environment of Schiphol Airport. I have instructions to find a place called "Yotel" inside the airport, a hotel where I can grab a shower and few hours of sleep during the long layover before my Kenya flight. I find it easily, register, and get a swipe card to get in.

My Yotel room is modeled on Japanese "capsule" or micro-hotels and is smaller than my bathrom at home. The bed is on the floor, under a low overhang. A small, light-weight desk folds out from the wall across from the door, and I can touch the door and the wall opposite, at the same time with my arms stretched. I can almost reach the toilet from bed. The chair for  the desk is actually a tiny stool that folds up and hangs from the knob of the door. It is a little claustrophobic, but I take a shower and sleep about two hours.

I video Skype home from the Yotel -- my first time using Skype outside of home in Key West -- and am relieved it works and that I can see everyone - they're doing great in New York, but have colds. I pack up and prepare for the next leg, Amsterdam to Nairobi. Grab some sushi and coffee and find my plane at gate F1, a Kenya Airways Boeing 777, black, red and green with "The Pride of Africa" emblazoned on one the side.
.
I cannot understand most of the languages at the gate. Africans in business suits, some white Europeans with backpacks probably headed on safari. It is 4,153 miles to Nairobi. We will have to fly either over or around Libya, where NATO is dropping bombs, to get there. Here we go.