How Airports Turn People Into Foot-Cuddlers, OR En Route to Guinea

I think airports are as close to the “state of nature” as most of us will ever get. 

Anonymity does something to people. It makes them feel comfortable wearing sweatpants and crocs somewhere other than the privacy of their own homes. It encourages them to drink a $10 airport gin and tonic at 8 am. But most importantly, or at least most notably to me, 

anonymity seems to encourage EVERYONE TO STARE AT EVERYONE ELSE. 

What would normally be a quick glance at the semi-interesting-looking young lady next to you becomes a prolonged gazing that can only be characterized as lecherous. Why? Because at airports, people don't care if you think they are creepy. Also, they are probably bored.

At least in normal public areas you can usually attribute being the victim of shameless staring to something positive about yourself. Don't get me wrong- I don't like being stared at. It makes me incredibly uncomfortable, but at least when a group of 17-yr-old boys gawk I can occasionally rationalize it as “Yep. I still got it.”

At airports, this isn't the case. You don't got it. You probably never had it. The person staring at you in an airport is most likely trying to figure out what you'd look like if they rearranged your facial features or how many mini jawbreakers they could possibly fit into one of your volcanic pores.

Luckily, I found the cure to staring-induced airport irritation, or SIAI. (Worst.Acronym.Ever.)

Meditation Rooms, which are basically just chapels, are next to bars, the best airport resource. As a remarkably nonreligious person, I've always felt a bit excluded from the benefits of organized believing and today I decided it was about time I took my slice from the beneficial pie of divine devotion.

So I meditated in the meditation room in Newark Airport. Okay, that's a lie. I stretched, though and it was awesome.

Unfortunately, my zen state of mind was quickly disrupted by the nice middle aged man sitting next to me on the plane who violated one of the most fundamental rules of passenger etiquette. The man CUDDLED MY FEET. He not only put his foot in MY foot space, but he caressed my foot with his. I was footsied. In a not-so-subtle hint, I stomped on his offending foot and made an angry face at the back of the seat in front of me. Success!

Now I'm in the Brussels Airport waiting for my flight to Guinea! It's amazing how quickly a coffee, some cookies, and a definite lack of foot cuddling can raise my spirits. Next stop, Conakry!*

*obviously this isn't updated. In Guinea! Will post about that this weekend! I miss everyone :)

Getting Ready For Guinea!

Hi. My name's not Mandy. 

I have a cat named Buttercup, a master's degree in karate, and strong moral values* 

*Only one of these things is true.

I officially leave for Guinea tomorrow morning at 6 am!

I'll be spending two months in Conakry working as a legal intern for Les Memes Droits Pour Tous, a wonderful human rights NGO that mainly advocates for victims of unlawful detainment and torture. However, in recent years they have also begun to advocate for victims of gender discrimination and female genital mutilation. I'm scared as hell, but I couldn't feel luckier to be a part of such a great organization. 

A few things I've done to prepare for my trip...

1. Shots. Lots of Shots. Four to be exact. Typhoid, Yellow Fever, Meningitis, and POLIO. Who gets polio anymore? Honestly.

2. Malaria prophylactic. There are two kinds that you can get for Guinea. One is $9/pill, which ADDS up since you take it daily. The other one is significantly cheaper (I think under $30 for a month) but has serious side effects. Most insurances don't cover it, but mine did so I was able to get the more expensive one without having to shell out $600. WIN.

3. Visa. I actually went to the Guinean Embassy in DC and got a visa! Tip: you can pay $20 and have it next-day delivered. I literally got my visa delivered to my parents house in San Diego the same week I applied for it in DC. 

4. Plane tickets. The rowboats from San Diego to Conakry were completely booked. 

5. Practice my French because Guinea is a French-speaking country. Except that I really didn't practice very much. I'm hoping it will all just come back to me the second I step off the plane. That's rational, right?

5. PACKING PACKING PACKING: 

For clothing, I was super aware that I was going to a predominantly muslim country where adult women tend to dress more conservatively. I packed a million basic tanks, long skirts, and moderately conservative dresses. I only brought FOUR PAIRS OF SHOES. Two pairs of flip-flops, a pair of running shoes, and a pair of wedges for going out dancing :) If you know me, you know that this is quite the achievement. Also, I brought Wellies since it's the rainy season, but I don't count those as shoes. They are made of rubber. 

Rubber shoes don't count.

Other than clothes, the most important things I packed include a 

Mosquito Net, Bug Spray, and a Lantern.

          

           My very supportive mother bought me five different kinds of bug spray, just in case the first four fail. 

ANYWAY, wish me luck! This is just about the craziest thing I've ever done. Well, the craziest thing that I'll post about on the internet, anyway. 

loff.