Basically the only thing that could have gone wrong on my trip back to the US went wrong: my flight from DXB-IAD was cancelled after I changed it from Sunday to Saturday. The travel agent who'd booked the KBL-DXB flight was out on Thursday so I couldn't change that flight back to Saturday. So now here I am with basically 24 hours in Dubai. Fine, I've only spent a tiny bit of time here, surely I can find some way to kill the day tomorrow. Plus it turns out Jenny, the AKFA director of education, is also going to be here this weekend so we planned to meet up and do something. Fun.
But no. That one major blip, the flight cancellation, has precipitated a bunch of other god damn motherfucking blips that are driving me up the fucking wall and causing me to hate this god damn corrupt hideous greedy shit-eating country. First, I made a reservation at the airport hotel here, because it was extremely last-minute and that seemed like the easiest thing to do. I'll come back to that.
Got to the airport in Kabul, no problem. Flight was a bit delayed, no problem. Got to DXB. Problem. I can't get my bags because the United counter doesn't open until three hours before the flight. There's no way to leave the airport and return, because I can't get my boarding pass until 9:10 tomorrow night. The airport hotel, where I've made my non-refundable reservation, is, as you might guess, in the airport. Therefore, my bags are in storage and I am here paying out the ass for a room in the hotel, with no change of clothes. I can't even go to the gym, because I have no sneakers or shorts or t-shirt. There are loads of hotels outside the airport. Fucking loads. But I can't stay at any of them because I've already paid for this room. Oh, and did I mention it's by the hour? I hadn't realized that, and it's unclear that that's the case when you're making your reservation, so if and when I leave the airport tomorrow, I'll have to check out of the hotel but will still be paying until 11 fucking PM. At which point I'll already be by my gate, waiting to board. Awesome. Oh, and unless I want to lug my bags around with me all day, I have to pay the airport $84 to transfer and store them for me. Courtesy fee, don't you know.
In short I'm spending $400 (hotel cost plus luggage transfer fee) to stay at a glorified Holiday Inn in the godforsaken greed capital of the world, all because I was sick and eager to be home and decided at the last minute to change my plans.
Now, the money I've spent will be paid back to me. But on principle it angers me to be gouged so openly, and I'm dreading filling out the expense report and being forced to justify these costs.
And if I hadn't fought for the change, I'd be in Kabul right now. Everything would be fine. That, in the end, is the most frustrating thing of all. I had to work to get the flight pushed up a day. I was so excited to come home early, to see Claire and everyone and my bed and to be in a place where I'm sure the next thing I eat won't prolong my diarrhea. Instead, at almost every turn, something has gone wrong. I'm back on my original flight from Dubai, but much more stressed out and frustrated and disappointed than if I'd never tried to change the ticket at all. To put a, um, dramatic point on it: from "Tragedy: The Basics" (Grand Valley State University):
There are other, nicer things to report about the last couple of days. But those will have to wait. Right now I have to take a few deep breaths and go buy some socks.
But no. That one major blip, the flight cancellation, has precipitated a bunch of other god damn motherfucking blips that are driving me up the fucking wall and causing me to hate this god damn corrupt hideous greedy shit-eating country. First, I made a reservation at the airport hotel here, because it was extremely last-minute and that seemed like the easiest thing to do. I'll come back to that.
Got to the airport in Kabul, no problem. Flight was a bit delayed, no problem. Got to DXB. Problem. I can't get my bags because the United counter doesn't open until three hours before the flight. There's no way to leave the airport and return, because I can't get my boarding pass until 9:10 tomorrow night. The airport hotel, where I've made my non-refundable reservation, is, as you might guess, in the airport. Therefore, my bags are in storage and I am here paying out the ass for a room in the hotel, with no change of clothes. I can't even go to the gym, because I have no sneakers or shorts or t-shirt. There are loads of hotels outside the airport. Fucking loads. But I can't stay at any of them because I've already paid for this room. Oh, and did I mention it's by the hour? I hadn't realized that, and it's unclear that that's the case when you're making your reservation, so if and when I leave the airport tomorrow, I'll have to check out of the hotel but will still be paying until 11 fucking PM. At which point I'll already be by my gate, waiting to board. Awesome. Oh, and unless I want to lug my bags around with me all day, I have to pay the airport $84 to transfer and store them for me. Courtesy fee, don't you know.
In short I'm spending $400 (hotel cost plus luggage transfer fee) to stay at a glorified Holiday Inn in the godforsaken greed capital of the world, all because I was sick and eager to be home and decided at the last minute to change my plans.
Now, the money I've spent will be paid back to me. But on principle it angers me to be gouged so openly, and I'm dreading filling out the expense report and being forced to justify these costs.
And if I hadn't fought for the change, I'd be in Kabul right now. Everything would be fine. That, in the end, is the most frustrating thing of all. I had to work to get the flight pushed up a day. I was so excited to come home early, to see Claire and everyone and my bed and to be in a place where I'm sure the next thing I eat won't prolong my diarrhea. Instead, at almost every turn, something has gone wrong. I'm back on my original flight from Dubai, but much more stressed out and frustrated and disappointed than if I'd never tried to change the ticket at all. To put a, um, dramatic point on it: from "Tragedy: The Basics" (Grand Valley State University):
Tragedy depicts the downfall of a noble hero or heroine, usually through some combination of hubris, fate, and the will of the gods. The tragic hero's powerful wish to achieve some goal inevitably encounters limits, usually those of human frailty (flaws in reason, hubris, society), the gods (through oracles, prophets, fate), or nature. Aristotle says that the tragic hero should have a flaw and/or make some mistake (hamartia). The hero need not die at the end, but he / she must undergo a change in fortune. In addition, the tragic hero may achieve some revelation or recognition (anagnorisis--"knowing again" or "knowing back" or "knowing throughout" ) about human fate, destiny, and the will of the gods. Aristotle quite nicely terms this sort of recognition "a change from ignorance to awareness of a bond of love or hate."I don't know about noble hero, but the powerful wish, the hamartia, the will of the gods, flaws in society. It's a god damn tragedy in miniature. Not in the sad, "woe is me" sense, although I'm complaining like a champ right now, but in the original dramatic sense. I'm still waiting for the anagnorisis.
There are other, nicer things to report about the last couple of days. But those will have to wait. Right now I have to take a few deep breaths and go buy some socks.
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