Travel is different these days. There are just so many variables, and the potential to have something else to throw a spanner in the works is always in the back of my mind when I'm on the road. Working on an Iraqi base adds a few extra twists and gyrations to the unknown unknowns. The company has their own plane that flies between Erbil and Balad, but was dependent on the Iraq government giving overflight rights to fly. Between late June and August something-th, there were 47 days those rascally Iraqis didn’t allow that flight, so everyone was stuck there. There were a few ways to get off base, and none of them were good. The easiest was a MEDEVAC flight and was usually COVID positive related that required the need to seek a higher level of medical care. I can’t go into details or outcomes on those trips, but can say that finding a COVID bed - anywhere in the world - was really difficult during that timeframe. You could also get a humanitarian flight if a close relative had died or was severely ill. Those ‘specials’ were coordinated through the US Embassy in Baghdad. And then, for some unknown reason, the Iraqis decided to lift their fatwa on overflight rights and the plane started to fly again, so I hopped on one. Going to Erbil was fairly straight forward, and I spent a few days there tooling around, visiting the Citadel and enjoying the 0400 call to prayer. Mosques always seem to be right next to the hotels frequented by the frugal.
I’m not a fan of having a swab stuck so far up my nose I can feel it in the back of my eye, but if you want to get on a plane to go somewhere interesting, that's what you have to do. For the record, I’ve had both the J&J jab and two doses of the Pfizer and religiously wore a mask. There was a lot of COVID on the base, both from the Iraqis that we were sending home to self isolate and the multinationals who tested positive and just had to quarantine in their quarters unless things took a turn for the worse. You can be asymptomatic and still be positive, so because I was fairly swimming in a pool of mostly unvaccinated people, it was a great relief to get that negative PCR test that allowed me to fly to Turkey. I wanted to lay over in Istanbul for one day so I could take a more leisurely trip back to the U.S. Didn’t exactly work out that way, and I’m still not sure why, but here’s what happened.
I showed up at the airport 3 hours early to check in. I’ve done a lot of traveling and spent more than few hours on long haul flights. I don’t have an explanation for it, but I’ve turned into kind of a nervous traveler. Maybe it’s because shit like this keeps on happening. Checking in, Turkish Airlines says there’s no record of my reservation. I’m not on the flight that I bought and paid for through United. I even made a seat selection on the Turkish Airlines website using their record locator prior to heading to the airport, but was told I didn’t exist. I was dead to them. Alan who? Last name Taylor? No, accompanied by a shake of the head from west to east. Passport number? Not there. Record Locator? Still no. Are there any seats available on this flight from Istanbul to Brussels so I can make my connecting flight? No, which seemed to be the most popular answer that morning. The original ‘oh shit’ response shifted to ‘oh well’ as I tried to figure out what to do. I’m at the airport and can’t make my connecting flight. My PCR test is good for today only and I don't want to spend a day in Istanbul trying to suss out where to get another one. Because I’m married to the Star Alliance network, I ask Turkish Airlines where else they are flying in the U.S. that day and they tell me they have a flight to Houston at 1405. It was about zero dark thirty in the morning when we were having this little chit chat. I quickly cancelled my connecting flight in Brussels, whipped out my credit card and bought a seat to Houston (where I didn’t really want to go). They let me check in about 8 hours early, so I whiled away the hours in the lounge and noshed on some Turkish delicacies. It turned out to be a 5 movie flight straight to Houston and I flew back to Huntsville the next day.
The reason for the flight? That’s another story. I was in Balad and got an email from a headhunter asking if I’d be interested in another position. A good friend of mine said when someone wants to make you an offer, you should always listen. So I did. I went through three rounds of interviews and got the answers to most of my questions. Job? HR Manager. Location? Kuwait. Also they need help hiring Marshallese in Kwajalein. Do you know anything about how to do that? Why yes, in fact I do. So I packed my mental bags. Gwyne was happy as well. We lived in Kuwait before and really enjoyed it. She couldn’t come and visit Iraq, but she is more than ready to hang out in Kuwait again for a while. One more question - where in Kuwait is the job physically located? It’s out at Arifjan. For those not familiar with Kuwait, Camp Arifjan is about a 40 minute drive from Fintas or Fahaheel, where most contractors typically live. I’ve done that unpleasant drive and sat through the uncomfortable security so very many times and just didn't want to do it again, so I turned it down. But those bags in my head, well, they had already been packed. A more comfortable life, planes that are actually able to fly, good medical care and Gwyne. And not necessarily in that order (good catch there, eh?) That's why I'm back in Huntsville. I'll still do some remote work, but it will be when I want. This way, I'm still keeping my status as a 4 time loser in the retirement game. It would be flat out embarrassing to be a 5 time loser.
