Northern Journey

'Wake up, Madam, wake up!,' I heard as I was jostled out of my middle-seat substandard plane napping fog.  'It's the Northern Lights!,' 'take a look.'  She beckoned me out of my seat and invited me to kneel next to her and peer out of the emergency exit row window at the massive splendor of the Northern Lights.  Vast billows of morphing white-green trails eclipsed the night sky as they swirled above white snow caps of the North Pole for as far as the eye could see.  It was a dream come true.  'I've always wanted to see the Northern Lights,' I exclaimed.  'Thanks so much for waking me...how did you know?' 'You were so excited that we were going over the North Pole that I thought you might appreciate seeing this, too.'  Indeed, I had earlier asked that she wake me when we passed over the North Pole; when will I ever pass over the North Pole again?  She remembered.  She acted on it.  It was so special.  Emirates service gets a top rating from me, for sure.  

How can I explain how lucky and blessed I felt to be gazing upon two other-worldly phenomenons simultaneously?  I sat at that window for 20 minutes in awe of the swirling Aurora Borealis.  It lit up the sky like nothing I'd ever seen before and was ever shifting, arching and reaching into a vast abyss of darkness all around it.  Limitless.  Perhaps I'm projecting  a bit here....but, as the middle seat occupant squashed for 16 hours between two business exectives (Aussie global construction firm self-described 'paper pusher'and a displaced Syrian working for an Italian oil and gas company in Quatar), the sight of such expansiveness, grace and beauty was a dream come true.  Aussie looked out his window seat window and Quatar took a glance, but was more interested in pacing around the plane to manage his nicotine withdrawls.  When both of us had returned to our seats, he  told me that his family is still in Syria and he can't get them out.  He hasn't been back for five years.  'Nothing is safe there,' he said 'it's the problems of Iran and Russia brought to our people.' 'But, it's hopeless.  Hopeless.'  I told him how sorry I was and we sat there in silence for some time.  No wonder he smokes.  

The landing in Dubai was very smooth.  The airport is something out of a futuristic sci-fi film - like an elegant, gleaming space-palace with wings of opulent duty free stores, waterfalls, life-sized holographic shieks who spring to life and welcome you to Dubai as you walk past his station, black burkas and glittering wrists, heavily made arabic eyes, old indians in saris and younger ones in cardigans - men pushing past or walking right in front of me with barely a glance, children of every color of every nation running alongside their travel-weary parents and a rainbow of cultures passing by on their ways to more options of flights and restaurants and shops and lounges (three floors and three giant terminals of them) than I've ever seen in any one airport.  I have an 8.5 hour layover, so decided to walk around the airport. Terminal A is a glittering jewel of this airport.  I haven't the audacity to sneak into the business class lounges on the second floor, but I see beautiful furniture and lights from below.  The entire airport is inside what looks like a giant glass tunnel with floors that are so clean that they sparkle the lights from above off of them.  This place is immaculate!  There are so many people and yet not a stain to be seen.  This all comes at a price.  I checked out the price of a massage in the spa and it's too much money.  I checked out the price of a hotel room and it's $70 USD/hour -- too much money.  I found a lounge that is $50 USD for 4 hrs including food, but I don't really see the point since there's no guarantee of a recliner chair and I got a free meal voucher from Emirates for waiting so long.  Another point for Emirates, btw!  I'm presently so tired that I may check out a sleep cube depending on the price, or try to find an open seat that reclines.  To lie down just now would be great.  The sleep cube store looks like the entrance to Madame Tussaud's - it's dark and touristic looking and beckons people to a dark chamber with white shaky chalk writing promising 'SLEEP' 'REST' 'RELAX' - but where are these cubes?  I'll have to check this out.  The most mysterious offering that I've seen yet in the airport.

Already, I've been befriended by a lady from Mumbai and a man from Ethiopia - both of whom I keep running into.  They have nice, pleasant ways about them.  And then I see a woman with downcast eyes and a husband with razor thin lips and glaring eyes.  Then I see a buff American with a t-shirt and women in shorts talking loudly in American accents.  I see military looking men in and out of uniform - you can just tell looking at the...I hear the lyrical rhythms of Arabic mixed with hindi from bobbing heads.  There are beeps and babies' cries and lovely women inviting you to try their restaurant as you walk by.  I'm eating indian food just now and there is a huge line coiled around the next-door McDonald's.  None of the other restaurants in the three terminals that I've just explored has this many people.  They are not very American loooking, but they sure love McDs.  One middle eastern young man was eating a Big Mac and wearing a t-shirt that said 'Hollister Surfers.'   I wonder if he knows that Hollister is a land-locked dustbowl with prolific orchards just south of Gilroy.  Surfing.  Really?  

I walked past the Emirates Airlines-sponsored business lounge that had pictures of the Kiwi boat that they sponsored in the America's Cup.  The next wing over was plastered with Oracle all over the escalators.  I wondered whether I should try to say that I'm from San Francisco and that Larry (Ellison) gave me permission to use the fancy lounge upstairs for a few hours.  But I'm too tired for trickery just now.  So, I'll leave you with this picture of the Northern Lights over ice flows that looks very similar to what I saw on my way over (minus the trees).  Auspicious, mystical, rare, exotic, commercialized, overwhelming and so very different from home...

Next stop - Bangalore.  I hope I make my connecting flight to Mangalore (90 minutes to get through customs and to the domestic terminal) and can meet the ashram-arranged driver at the airport.  Just about 15 more hours of journeying to go before I'm safely at the ashram. Oh, but what a journey it is on the way over...