Travel diary, day 1
Apr. 6th, 2010 10:08 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
xuenayFirst off, thanks to everyone who wished me a good journey!
Helsinki-Vantaa airport, Finland. April 5, 6:36 AM EEST
I didn't get much sleep tonight. I finally got around going to bed at midnight, after which it took a while to actually fall asleep. I'd been worried about oversleeping, so I put my cell phone functioning as alarm clock far from me. No risk of that - apparently a part of my brain was assigned to keep watch of the time even as the rest slept. Or maybe they kept a rotating watch, I don't know. Whatever the case, I woke up a few times during my four-hour sleep cycle to check the time. The last time when I did was about half an hour before my alarm clock was supposed to ring at 4:20 AM, and I was moderately alert when it did. 50 milligrams of caffeine helped return my cognitive systems to readiness.
I left my keys at a friend's place in case something would happen at home while I was gone, and spent the night there. The good thing about this was that by walking about ten minutes from the friend's place, I ended up at a bus station from which departed a bus directly to the airport. I enjoyed the feeling of waiting at the station at night, with the cool air, dark sky and near-complete silence all around me. I tried taking pictures, but for some reason my camera thought it was raining cats and dogs though it wasn't. Ah well, it was the cheapest camera I could find.
The only other person at the station was somebody who was searching all the garbage bins, presumably looking for empty bottles. Then they departed, leaving only somebody's car that was running idle there for some reason. The bus was two minutes late, which worried me a bit and had me wondering if I'd need to call a taxi. Fortunately there was no need.
On the bus, I took my MP3 player and listened to Pet Shop Boys' Being Boring. The lyrics felt appropriate.
When I went I left from the station
With a haversack and some trepidation
Someone said: "If you're not careful
You'll have nothing left and nothing to care for
In the nineteen-seventies"
But I sat back and looking forward
My shoes were high and I had scored
I'd bolted through a closing door
I would never find myself feeling bored
Now on the airport, I've started to feel some fatigue again, though I don't expect the effect from the caffeine to wear off for a while. In a way, not getting much sleep was a blessing. There's an eleven hour time difference between Finland and the West Coast. If I manage to sleep on the plane during what would usually be my day, I'll have gotten a head start on readjusting my sleeping patterns to California time.
SIAI House, California. April 6, 9:13 AM PDT.
So, phew. The trip was certainly eventful.
My plane tickets said I would arrive in Paris Charles de Gaulle at 9:40 local time, and the plane would depart at 10:40. From this I figured that I'd have an hour to change planes, plenty of time. What I didn't take into account was that the boarding to the plane would begin well ahead of the actual take off, at 9:55. After emerging in the terminal and not seeing my flight listed anywhere on the displays, I asked a helpful person who told me which terminal and gate the plane would be leaving from. Then I ran.
Not that I'd have needed to. By the time I got the terminal 2E, I found out that there was some sort of a political protest blocking all the gates. People were standing in a line, holding each other's arms, and chanting slogans in French. I still have no idea what it was about, aside for a suspicion that it may have been some racial thing as almost all of the protesters were black. And they probably wanted to free someone named Michael, as one of them was carrying a sign saying "Liberer Michael". If somebody knows more about French internal politics, do enlighten me. Riot police were standing nearby and keeping an eye on them.
Behind the protesters, there were computer monitors showing flights listed as Green, Yellow and Orange, apparently based on how much you needed to hurry if you wanted to catch one of them. I watched nervously as my flight disappeared from the Orange display, and hoped to see other flights would vanish from it as well. That'd have meant they were listed on the monitors just based on the original time of departure which didn't take into account the protest. On the other hand, if other flights remained on the monitors, that would imply that the data was updated to reflect the current situation and the flights were kept being delayed by the protest - but my flight hadn't been. To my relief, I did indeed see several other flights first cross over from the yellow to the orange monitor, then vanish entirely.
The protest continued with no signs of stopping for an hour, until the police instructed us onlookers to move away from the line. The riot police I'd been watching went in to one end of the line and began breaking it up. I figured something akin to tear gas had been employed by the point that the protesters started running away, trying to cover their eyes and mouths. As the line broke, me and a bunch of other passangers made our way through, getting gas in our faces on the way. There was a burning sensation in my eyes for a while, but fortunately it cleared up pretty soon.
Fortunately, my flight had indeed been kept waiting and I got safely onboard. I got a seat next to Mr. French. I don't remember his real name, but aside from speaking good (though accented) English, he seemed like the epitome of Frenchness. He looked French. He spoke French with the airline crew. He owned (or worked for, I'm not entirely sure on this) a company that was in the business of selling wine. When he watched a movie on the plane, he would sometimes make motions with his hands (like an "oh no!" one) when something happened in the movie.
When I'd boarded the plane, a person at the gate had given me what's called an I-94 form. When you're traveling to the US with a non-immigrant visa, that's what you're supposed to fill in and give to the authorities upon landing. Unfortunately, I had somehow lost mine (must have dropped it) in my scramble to get aboard. I asked the people on the airplane to give me a new one, but they ended up giving me an I-94W, which is what you use if you don't have a visa and are coming in under the visa waiver program. When I realized this, I asked a member of the crew if this really was the right form. He (incorrectly) said yes, and didn't think there were any other forms. Towards the end of the flight I found the name of the form I was supposed to have from some of the onboard materials and asked another crew member to give me one. She said she would, but she never did.
This caused me considerable nervousness during the trip. Fortunately, the forms were also available after we'd landed, at the security inspection point. Of course, everybody else had already filled in their forms on the plane, so me stopping to fill in mine meant I ended up last in the line. This meant that I stood about two hours in line before getting to talk to an inspector.
The inspector could have been a bit more forthcoming. She thought the business with me visiting this Singularity Institute sounded weird, and made questions like "how long have you known about this organization, are you sure they're reputable". The fact that I still wasn't entirely sure of what exactly I'd be doing here probably didn't help matters. In the end, she sent me to a separate room to be handled by inspectors who were taking care of other "difficult cases".
Fortunately, despite all of the horror stories about the US border authorities that have been circulating, at least the people in the other room were quite human. I waited as they dealt good-naturedly with a bunch of other people before me, one of them joking around and in general helping break the tension. When it came my turn, I was asked if I had any documentation about this volunteer work thing. I hadn't thought of bringing my invitation letter with me, so I didn't have any at hand. Then I was asked a couple of other questions, like where I was staying, after which the man just told me to bring some documentation the next time and let me go.
By this time, the security checkpoint area and the baggage claim area beyond it were empty aside for a few officials. I was let through to the baggage claim, grabbed my baggage and was let through customs without any hassle. At this point I had began to think that the person who was supposed to meet me at the airport would by now have figured I wasn't on the flight after all and left. Fortunately that wasn't the case, and I heard somebody calling my name just as I entered the lobby and was about to ask the receptionist if I could make a call.
Half an hour later, we were at the SIAI house. As a contrast to my earlier trip, all the people I met were nice, and the house seemed really nice as well. I went along for a shopping trip, said hi to several people, and one person told me they'd intended to tell me to bring along documentation but then managed to miss on that. Ooops. Ah well.
By now I was getting rather tired, as I'd effectively had about 6 hours of sleep in the last 40 hours, so I went to bed and slept with a Christmas Chibithulhu in my arms.
Helsinki-Vantaa airport, Finland. April 5, 6:36 AM EEST
I didn't get much sleep tonight. I finally got around going to bed at midnight, after which it took a while to actually fall asleep. I'd been worried about oversleeping, so I put my cell phone functioning as alarm clock far from me. No risk of that - apparently a part of my brain was assigned to keep watch of the time even as the rest slept. Or maybe they kept a rotating watch, I don't know. Whatever the case, I woke up a few times during my four-hour sleep cycle to check the time. The last time when I did was about half an hour before my alarm clock was supposed to ring at 4:20 AM, and I was moderately alert when it did. 50 milligrams of caffeine helped return my cognitive systems to readiness.
I left my keys at a friend's place in case something would happen at home while I was gone, and spent the night there. The good thing about this was that by walking about ten minutes from the friend's place, I ended up at a bus station from which departed a bus directly to the airport. I enjoyed the feeling of waiting at the station at night, with the cool air, dark sky and near-complete silence all around me. I tried taking pictures, but for some reason my camera thought it was raining cats and dogs though it wasn't. Ah well, it was the cheapest camera I could find.
The only other person at the station was somebody who was searching all the garbage bins, presumably looking for empty bottles. Then they departed, leaving only somebody's car that was running idle there for some reason. The bus was two minutes late, which worried me a bit and had me wondering if I'd need to call a taxi. Fortunately there was no need.
On the bus, I took my MP3 player and listened to Pet Shop Boys' Being Boring. The lyrics felt appropriate.
When I went I left from the station
With a haversack and some trepidation
Someone said: "If you're not careful
You'll have nothing left and nothing to care for
In the nineteen-seventies"
But I sat back and looking forward
My shoes were high and I had scored
I'd bolted through a closing door
I would never find myself feeling bored
Now on the airport, I've started to feel some fatigue again, though I don't expect the effect from the caffeine to wear off for a while. In a way, not getting much sleep was a blessing. There's an eleven hour time difference between Finland and the West Coast. If I manage to sleep on the plane during what would usually be my day, I'll have gotten a head start on readjusting my sleeping patterns to California time.
SIAI House, California. April 6, 9:13 AM PDT.
So, phew. The trip was certainly eventful.
My plane tickets said I would arrive in Paris Charles de Gaulle at 9:40 local time, and the plane would depart at 10:40. From this I figured that I'd have an hour to change planes, plenty of time. What I didn't take into account was that the boarding to the plane would begin well ahead of the actual take off, at 9:55. After emerging in the terminal and not seeing my flight listed anywhere on the displays, I asked a helpful person who told me which terminal and gate the plane would be leaving from. Then I ran.
Not that I'd have needed to. By the time I got the terminal 2E, I found out that there was some sort of a political protest blocking all the gates. People were standing in a line, holding each other's arms, and chanting slogans in French. I still have no idea what it was about, aside for a suspicion that it may have been some racial thing as almost all of the protesters were black. And they probably wanted to free someone named Michael, as one of them was carrying a sign saying "Liberer Michael". If somebody knows more about French internal politics, do enlighten me. Riot police were standing nearby and keeping an eye on them.
Behind the protesters, there were computer monitors showing flights listed as Green, Yellow and Orange, apparently based on how much you needed to hurry if you wanted to catch one of them. I watched nervously as my flight disappeared from the Orange display, and hoped to see other flights would vanish from it as well. That'd have meant they were listed on the monitors just based on the original time of departure which didn't take into account the protest. On the other hand, if other flights remained on the monitors, that would imply that the data was updated to reflect the current situation and the flights were kept being delayed by the protest - but my flight hadn't been. To my relief, I did indeed see several other flights first cross over from the yellow to the orange monitor, then vanish entirely.
The protest continued with no signs of stopping for an hour, until the police instructed us onlookers to move away from the line. The riot police I'd been watching went in to one end of the line and began breaking it up. I figured something akin to tear gas had been employed by the point that the protesters started running away, trying to cover their eyes and mouths. As the line broke, me and a bunch of other passangers made our way through, getting gas in our faces on the way. There was a burning sensation in my eyes for a while, but fortunately it cleared up pretty soon.
Fortunately, my flight had indeed been kept waiting and I got safely onboard. I got a seat next to Mr. French. I don't remember his real name, but aside from speaking good (though accented) English, he seemed like the epitome of Frenchness. He looked French. He spoke French with the airline crew. He owned (or worked for, I'm not entirely sure on this) a company that was in the business of selling wine. When he watched a movie on the plane, he would sometimes make motions with his hands (like an "oh no!" one) when something happened in the movie.
When I'd boarded the plane, a person at the gate had given me what's called an I-94 form. When you're traveling to the US with a non-immigrant visa, that's what you're supposed to fill in and give to the authorities upon landing. Unfortunately, I had somehow lost mine (must have dropped it) in my scramble to get aboard. I asked the people on the airplane to give me a new one, but they ended up giving me an I-94W, which is what you use if you don't have a visa and are coming in under the visa waiver program. When I realized this, I asked a member of the crew if this really was the right form. He (incorrectly) said yes, and didn't think there were any other forms. Towards the end of the flight I found the name of the form I was supposed to have from some of the onboard materials and asked another crew member to give me one. She said she would, but she never did.
This caused me considerable nervousness during the trip. Fortunately, the forms were also available after we'd landed, at the security inspection point. Of course, everybody else had already filled in their forms on the plane, so me stopping to fill in mine meant I ended up last in the line. This meant that I stood about two hours in line before getting to talk to an inspector.
The inspector could have been a bit more forthcoming. She thought the business with me visiting this Singularity Institute sounded weird, and made questions like "how long have you known about this organization, are you sure they're reputable". The fact that I still wasn't entirely sure of what exactly I'd be doing here probably didn't help matters. In the end, she sent me to a separate room to be handled by inspectors who were taking care of other "difficult cases".
Fortunately, despite all of the horror stories about the US border authorities that have been circulating, at least the people in the other room were quite human. I waited as they dealt good-naturedly with a bunch of other people before me, one of them joking around and in general helping break the tension. When it came my turn, I was asked if I had any documentation about this volunteer work thing. I hadn't thought of bringing my invitation letter with me, so I didn't have any at hand. Then I was asked a couple of other questions, like where I was staying, after which the man just told me to bring some documentation the next time and let me go.
By this time, the security checkpoint area and the baggage claim area beyond it were empty aside for a few officials. I was let through to the baggage claim, grabbed my baggage and was let through customs without any hassle. At this point I had began to think that the person who was supposed to meet me at the airport would by now have figured I wasn't on the flight after all and left. Fortunately that wasn't the case, and I heard somebody calling my name just as I entered the lobby and was about to ask the receptionist if I could make a call.
Half an hour later, we were at the SIAI house. As a contrast to my earlier trip, all the people I met were nice, and the house seemed really nice as well. I went along for a shopping trip, said hi to several people, and one person told me they'd intended to tell me to bring along documentation but then managed to miss on that. Ooops. Ah well.
By now I was getting rather tired, as I'd effectively had about 6 hours of sleep in the last 40 hours, so I went to bed and slept with a Christmas Chibithulhu in my arms.
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no subject
Date: 2010-04-06 09:18 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-04-06 09:27 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-04-06 11:37 pm (UTC)Travelling to Australia was the first time I bumped into those visa forms. I had to fill one in for Hong Kong, and again for Australia, so I guess it's a staple for international travel? Also, in HK I got pulled aside because of a small cough (left over from a cold I'd gotten two weeks before leaving) that they thought was swine flu. So yeah... just a heads up, if you ever travel to China or thereabouts, make yourself look as healthy as possible at the airport - don't even dare to sneeze - unless you want to get dragged in for an impromptu medical examination. They strongly suggested I wear one of those flu masks for the rest of my time in the country even though I passed the examination ok, and I had to present a document proclaiming my health to each official at checkpoints.
After getting out of the airport to visit HK city I promptly chucked the mask in a bin and luckily didn't get any more grief about it.
Have fun in USA, take lots of pictures! Can't wait to read more travel diaries from you. :)