I have a fear of flying and will do almost anything to make air transit emotionally bearable. I pack an extra shirt in my carry-on just in case I nervously sweat through the one on my back. I have plenty of peaceful music downloaded on my phone. I keep a special amulet or two in my pocket even though I am not religious or superstitious. I also hold a stash of “airplane candy” just in case. Short of having a service animal registered, I do all that I can to soothe my fears.
After boarding, I try not to look at other passengers, be over-stimulated by the romcoms playing on screens, or get too fixated on my pre-determined escape plan should the aircraft take a plunge (I honestly make an overly detailed action plan before each flight takes off. It’s ridiculous).
My greatest flight comfort is a window seat. If possible, I pay the additional fee to pre-select my seat or, at the very least, beg for one at the check-in counter. I prefer to be near a wing where, in my phobic-mind, the plane is most stable and where an exit row is usually nearby. Oddly, window seats make me feel less claustrophobic and I covet the tiny area of space between my seat and the convex edge of the plane. Those extra square inches make me feel that I have some sort of protective bubble around me.
Without a doubt, the best part about a window seat is the chance to view the landscapes far below, gaze at giant cumulonimbus clouds, or peer at stars that seem so much closer from 32,000 feet. The natural world, an arms-length away, is my soothing, constant in-flight entertainment.
After a ten-hour red-eye flight from Bangkok and a quick layover in Addis Ababa, I was glad to finally be on a domestic flight heading north towards Lalibela. The sun was up I could have my first real glimpse of Ethiopia.
From cruising altitude, it wasn’t possible to get any sort of perspective of Ethiopian culture (other than noticing the agrarian nature of the countryside). But that didn’t matter. I was able to recognize, at least from above, that I was already in love with Ethiopia.
For the duration of the short flight, I didn’t have any fear of flying. I didn’t sweat through my shirt or pull out the prayer beads from my pocket. Instead, I sat in awe of the expansive landscape and was again grateful for a window seat.
