The first leg of my adventure would be a test of my inexperience, getting around a big airport alone. No big deal...Dallas...a breeze! Getting on to the plane with my guitar and computer bag apparently was too much so I was asked to check one, the stewardess recommended me holding on to my guitar. Ok no problem, I gave here my purple bag with my computer, camera all the important stuff. The flight was a nice four hour flight, I sat between a army solder and an Australian man. Both were very large muscular gentlemen...I felt very small and child like at that moment. They were kind and both had very unique stories to share the entire four hours of the flight. As I got off my plane in LA I waited to retrieve my bag...waited and waited...no bag. I asked the stewardess where my bag was she said oh it will be down at baggage claim. I thought she was confused, I said no no remember I checked it when I got on the plane, so it should be here when I get off the plane. She said oh no we don't do it like that here, you will need to go to baggage claim down stairs and pick it up. My new Australian friend was so kind to stick with me and point me in the right direction to the baggage claim. When I got there I watched bag after bag be dropped off on to the wheel...then the belt stopped and it was just me and no purple bag. My heart sank, and a huge lump swelled in my throat! I drug myself to the always friendly lost baggage office. It was a long line and I had an international flight to catch soon. All I could do is wait...and wait...one by one each person was helped. Finally my turn, I told the man there my situation and that stupidly I had not attached my name to the bag because I had planned on having it with me all the time. His response was shrugged shoulders as he said "sorry?" I said "ok hold on, there has to be something I can do, I am leaving on an international flight in an hour." He said "well wait for the next flight to come from Dallas and see if is on there, that's all I can tell you." I left the lost baggage a very very sad stupid feeling girl. I wanted to call my mom, but my cell phone was also in that bag. I was able to get enough change together to call her from a pay phone, even though it was nearly midnight, I had to talk to someone who cared. I said the words "hi Mom" didn't even escape my mouth before I lost it. She did her best to calm me down, but the sound of concern in her voice didn't convince me it was going to be ok. She said all we can do is talk to the Father about it, in the midst of her talking to the Father my change for the phone call ran out. So I cried and cried, people around me must have thought someone had just died. I knew in my heart the whole time that my Father had not gotten me this far to leave me alone. I got myself back together, and waited for the baggage to arrive from the next flight. As the belt turned and bag after bag fell on to the wheel, finally a familiar bag in the distance. If you ever see a person smiling at baggage claim and clinging to their bags, just smile back, because when you fly getting your luggage is a gamble you take.
So thirty minutes until my international flight leaves and I have to get clear across the other side of the airport, go back though security, exchange my money, but first things first...attach my name to my guitar and purple bag. I booked it to the other side of LAX...running like a crazy person. As I checked in they radioed to hold the gate for me. Up two floors and about a mile of airport walkways, past gate after gate, until the last gate in the entire international airport. Finlay, huffing and puffing I boarded the plain. My mood almost immediately changed as I stepped on to the Thai Airways plane with soft Asian music playing, the stewardess in their traditional Tai dresses and done up hair in chopsticks, bowed and said "Sawadii kha" The next 17 hours of my life were spent, watching lots of movies, eating strange Thai airplane food...I think I had green beans for breakfast.
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