Departing the United States

I arrived at Palm Beach International airport with three hours of anticipation and it was a good thing I did. The ticket agent had never heard of Tajikistan and needed to get on the telephone to get the right code after asking me if it was located in Africa. When she saw that I planned to check three bags in addition to my carry-on pieces, I was informed that only one bag would be accepted as part of my ticket, the second bag would cost $70.00 and the third bag a whopping $200.00. I was infuriated at this crass attempt by the airlines to fleece travelers and attempted to consolidate my personal belongings into just two bags. However, even with my sister Esther helping me, it wasn’t possible. She was able to knock some sense into me by reminding that I would live in Tajikistan for nine months and had been most sensible in packing only what was needed.

                                           Map of Tajikistan

When I agreed to pay their usurious rate, the agent told she needed to contact the two other airlines I’d be flying with to determine if they were willing to accept three bags. After a long delay, I was given the go ahead as obviously neither Lufthansa nor Turkish Airlines is as greedy as our domestic carriers. Speaking of Lufthansa, what a marvelous carrier! We flew on an Airbus 381 and were not charged extra for pillows, blankets, snacks or headsets. I enjoyed a full course meal: mixed salad, pasta with some kind of meaty mushroom and peas, roll and butter and dessert. The only dissonant note here was the roll which was cold, hard and dry. We were offered a choice of white or red wine with our meal and dinner liquors, cognac or Bailey’s Irish Cream afterwards. Best of all, we were given moist hot towelettes prior to dinner and real cutlery to eat with. The flight attendants, an even ratio of males and females, were most attentive, low-key and accommodating. 

Munich Airport seemed huge and highly efficient, and very German indeed. As much as I tried to find an Internet café to log on and contact my family, none was to be found. I was finally told I needed to contact a local company and give them my credit card before gaining access to the service. I decided it could wait.

Istanbul airport is also very large, but much more colorful and human in scale. Contrary to Munich, where most passengers appeared to be either Germans or Americans, this place is jumping with people from all over the world. I just heard Spanish spoken at a table nearby and see lots of what could be Africans shopping and dining all around me. Women can be seen wearing tight-fitting outfits next to those wearing saris or covered from head to toe. Had my first taste of pistachio ice cream made with goat milk. It’s indeed much creamier than the one made with cow milk. They have a food court, very similar to the ones found in most shopping malls in the States, offering an array of mouthwatering dishes. Too bad the airline fed me another full meal between Munich and Istanbul.

I have a six hour layover and need to walk around before the four and half hour flight to Dushanbe. I can’t wait to get to my new place. After the luxurious flights on Lufthansa, I was disappointed with Turkish Airlines as we flew in an aging, small plane fitted with aquamarine leather seats reminiscent of the 50s. No pillows or blankets either. I sat next to a beautiful young woman who was returning to her country after spending three months visiting her sister in San Francisco. She loved California and wished she could have stayed. She wanted to have my cell phone so she could invite me to her house once I got settled in. I gave her my email address and hope to hear from her. Upon arrival to the airport, which looked more like a small warehouse building than a terminal, I had to complete a form and get in the only line for foreigners.

Luckily for me, Nancy, an English language specialist, stood behind me and we started to chat about the slow process and the dour expression on the immigration officer’s face. The building is so small that while he was reviewing my documents, I could see the luggage carrousel and my bags making their way in. Nancy and I decided to stick together to verify that we both had someone waiting to take us to our respective destinations. There was a man with a sign for Nancy, but none for me. Unwilling to leave me stranded there at 4:00 in the morning, Nancy suggested that I go to her hotel and make contact from there. She then remembered she had a complete list of names and respective cell phone numbers for people at the embassy and since the driver had a cell phone, he proceeded to dial some numbers until we got someone.

Apparently she had been given the wrong time for my arrival and thus had not shown up yet. She agreed to meet me at the hotel in a few minutes and indeed she was there when our taxi arrived. We then drove for a few minutes and I was taken to a dark building where not even the entrance was lit and no light was available while we made our way to the third floor with all my bags. After opening the heavy metal door that acts as a security shield, I was shown into a pleasant apartment with a very confusing floor distribution. The hallway leads to a dining room, where the refrigerator stands, a galley kitchen follows with a window air conditioner nearby. Back to the hallway and then the bathroom and a bedroom with no windows. To the right of the hallway there is a living room area with another air conditioner unit and thru it another bedroom. This bedroom has access to a balcony. Since it was six o’clock by now, Tashmina decided to let me rest and to come back in the afternoon to fill me in as to the next step in my settling in process.