Posts Tagged ‘Flying from abroad’
While shaving my feet today, inspiration returned to my creative online one man authorship. As a result, I will continue to bore you dear reader with my occasional rants and exclamations on life and the universe. We are soon to take a holiday out of the “motherland” Russia to froggy land France. The thought of escaping the daily grind of Moscow fills me with joy and my heart is beating to a happier tune but I hate flying. I never used to mind flying but my fear arrived about 10 years ago through no bad experience or life changing event, it just arrived unannounced and unwelcome. Living abroad as an expat or “international gypsy” a person without a fixed home, is not the best situation to be in if you hate being airborne at 35,000 feet in a aluminum cigar shaped coffin. However, that’s the situation I am in. To help myself to actually board a plane, I take Valium. I take three 5 milligram tablets. One when I arrive at the airport, one when checking in and one in the departure lounge. Occasionally, depending on the weather, crowds and creaming kids, I may slurp a beer in the toilets while my wife is not looking as an extra kick to my self therapy.
By the time I get on the plane, I am smiling innately and madly at everyone. The cabin attendant could tell me trousers were on fire and I would just smile back and talk gibberish. What is the cause of my paranoia? I have also developed IBS (Irritable Bowel Syndrome) this usually effects women but not one to follow the crowds I suffer from it. The symptoms are stomach pains, bloating and gas (farts or “flatulence”), the cause is thought to be stress and bad diet. The other day, I went for a Thia massage lasting 1 hour. It was 1,000 rubles. Its an aggressive form of massage where a Thia girl, so thin that she looks as if she has not eaten for a week, beats you with god like strength to massage your entire body, pulling you in every direction. This is fine in a masochistic rough kind of way, but if you have IBS, it’s not so fun. I spent one hour clenching my buttocks to retain a fart that would have been herd in Minsk if I had released it. Keeping them in is painful its just lucky I am not a vicar, a conductor or other such job that requires silence and seriousness. When I left the massage center I let rip, I am sure the surrounding blocks shook but it felt good to finally have gas relief.
Flying is stressful and even worse when you have a busy airport, screaming kids, miserable airport staff and rude cabin attendants. However its good to get away from my self imposed exile and to breath clean air and be in a different place to now. Who knows my IBS may ease up?
expatsonthemove 