We arrived at 4:45pm at Delta Terminal 3 at JFK in the rain, so there were no long goodbyes (although there were plenty of tears, had been plenty of tears all afternoon) and if you leave your car idle for too long the security people come chasing you out of the terminal anyway. I got inside to the terminal where there were just tons of people confused as to which direction to turn (note to Delta: hang some signs from the ceiling and customers won't bombard your irritated staff by asking simple questions like "Where do I check in?"). I finally get in line to check my baggage (I bypassed the boarding pass step because I printed mine at home so that saved a few minutes) and I start talking to a couple behind me who were on the same flight as mine. We chatted, we waited, we chatted, we moved up in line, we waited some more, chatted some more. Then I am next in line to get rid of 100 lbs. of my life that somehow fit into 2 bags. As I approach the desk, one of the airline staff from outside cuts right in front of me and hands the attendant a piece of paper. Clearly, I was not priority. I wait, and wait, and wait and finally after seeing people from behind me in line go past me to other clerks to check in, she asks the next clerk to check me in. I show Savannah my license, my boarding pass, weigh my luggage, and receive my claim tags. Great! That only took, um, about an hour. Now all I have to do is go through security. I'm ready: liquids in a quart-sized zip top bag, shoes ready to be slipped off, phone in purse, and definitely no water in my Nalgene. Let's do this!
I start heading toward the other end of the terminal ready to go, and I find myself once again in ANOTHER huge long line of waiting. So I wait, and wait, and wait. I even hear an announcement over the PA system indicating that boarding is now open for Delta flight 268 to Tel Aviv. Boarding? Great. I haven't even had my belongings x-rayed or gotten a pat down. Not to mention, my seat is all the way in the back of the plane so as I get on board (if and when that actually happens) I will be bumping everyone in the head on my way to seat 58A. I think I'm about to approach the desk where they initial your boarding pass, when I realize the ropes are like a maze and I really just have to go around, not approach the counter. Three turns later, I finally get my boarding pass checked and I can proceed to the x-ray machines. Like I said, I was born ready for security. Unfortunately, not everyone else is. So I'm stuck behind a lady who is still wearing a jacket with coins or some other metal in the pockets. Idiot! Eventually I get through, re-pack my stuff. By this time, it's well after 6pm. In fact, by the time I am done with security and re-packing, it is probably more like 7pm. I hop into the first bathroom I see (hey, those airplane toilets are not so ideal) and fill up my waterbottle thinking that I'm a good girl for not taking any through security, and saving the world one more plastic bottle. I fill it up about 3/4 full and proceed to the gate; I'm staying hydrated on this flight. I show my boarding pass and passport (ooh, glamorous) to find that there is ANOTHER x-ray machine and security checkpoint. So much for the waterbottle. I have to go back to the water fountain to empty out the water that was obviously acquired AFTER the first batch of security, so it's not poison or hazardous material, but they don't care about that; I have to dump it. I go through security again and finally get to the plane.
I am sitting in one of the back rows, way past the emergency exits, and way past the wings. Seat 58A. Fabulous. So far I have the whole row to myself; this ain't gonna last. About 7:20 the pilot comes on the loudspeaker and makes an announcement that due to poor weather, air traffic in the NYC area is a bit clogged and we will have to wait a while taxiing before we take off. He says it'll be about another 15-20 minutes so we sit at the gate some more. He gets back on the PA a little before 8pm to say we're going to push back and taxi to the runway soon, and I finally realize, hey, at least I've got my own row! (I was not the only one with my own row; lots of folks were lucky like I was.) I took out one of my books and crack it open. Perfect time to do some reading.
I think we finally took off around 9pm. They brought out the special meals first (vegetarian = special in Delta terms), so I was very happy. Almost immediately after came the drink cart. "A glass of white wine please." Certainly that would help put me to sleep. The flight attendant asks me, "You're over 21, right?" And I chuckle and mutter, "Um, yes." Really? REALLY? I would have shown him my ID if he asked me for it; he saved me the hassle of digging it out. A glass of white wine and a muscle relaxer later, and I'm sleepin' like a baby, Delta blanket sprawled right over me, bunched up all 3 pillows from my row; I was in heaven. I wake up a few times in between watching the new Karate Kid movie, the lights on the plane still all on, and people passing by. I keep checking the time on my watch to see how much I've slept. All in all, probably 5 hours on the plane at least. Hooray! Breakfast arrives at my tray table while I'm catching some good shut eye. Once they are done cleaning up from the meal, there's only about an hour left in the flight - great! I lie back down, zone out for a bit, and we're on the ground in beautiful Tel Aviv! Whew - finally! Should be smooth sailing from here!
The plane comes to a complete stop at the gate; I unfasten my seatbelt. Along with the rest of the passengers, I collect my belongings and wait in the aisle to deplane (is that even a word?). An announcement is made in Hebrew. One woman across the aisle says, "Oh, great, typical, they strike, now we have to wait for luggage, this always happening, I can't believe it." The woman behind me says, "Are you kidding?" "I wish I was!" Oy vey. What did this mean? They make the same announcement in English - there will be delays to our luggage arriving because there are labor strikes of airport workers. They don't know how long the delay will be. Awesome. Not like I have 5 months of clothing and belongings in those bags!
I go through passport control and go to the luggage carousels. Some luggage is there. Mine is not. I checked every single one. More than once. After about 40 minutes of continued aimless wandering, I just go out to meet cousin Josh who is meeting me. I had no way of calling him to let him know what was going on, and I didn't want to hold him up anymore when not a single person at the airport could tell me what to do (besides leave the airport and come back when the strike was over, thanks people, that's really helpful).
I made my way to Jerusalem with Josh, said hi to Debbie at her office, got a bite to eat at CAFE AROMA (!) and Josh dropped me off at my Jerusalem apartment! Thank goodness since being here everything has been great - meeting the staff, the participants, my roommates, and my big bed :)
Now all I need to do is get my tuchus to Ben Gurion airport tomorrow to claim my 100 lbs.
Hooray! Where's your apartment?
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