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life essay: part 11
Looking back, it seems like we faced some kind of plane drama every time we flew during those two months in Africa. Just a few months earlier, the crash of a DC-10 had created an international alert for all fleets to check planes of that model, so there were lots of delays at airports while repairs were taking place. Once, we were diverted to an antique WWII propeller plane whose door wouldn't close until it was secured with rope!
Finally, though, our tour came to an end and it was time for us to go home. The plane that would take us home was from the Chinese fleet; as I recall, it was a Boeing 707. The president of an African nation was being flown home after a visit to Beijing, and we were being picked up for the return flight. Here was a nice thought--after two months of braving rickety aircraft, we were finally going to fly in style back to China! We were departing from Camaroon; the flight plan involved a brief stop in Zaire to pick up some other passengers, and then off to the motherland.
The first leg of the flight went smoothly. We arrived over Zaire on time. After a while, though, we noticed that the plane was making a wide circle over the landing strip. We had no idea why we weren't landing. The trip should have only taken about 4 hours, but time was ticking by. The plane circled above the airport over and over and over again, for a very long time. I started to notice that the stewardesses weren't walking up and down the aisles anymore. In fact, they weren't doing anything at all. They were sitting in their seats, absolutely still. And they seemed rather pale. This stirred our curiosity - why weren't they moving? And looking out the window, we saw the airport below. Why hadn't we landed yet? Finally, one of the stewardesses got out a stack of envelopes and stationery and started passing it around.
It was time for everyone to write their will.
The pilot finally explained what was going on: the landing gear was stuck. The wheels in the back were fine, but the ones in the front were not descending properly. Then we thought about the GAGAGAGGAGAGGGAgagagagwhhhhuhuuuu GAGAGAGGAGAGGGAgagagagwhhhhuhuuuu sounds we'd been hearing on and off but hadn't dared ask about. The stewardesses handed out pens for us to write with.
To tell the truth, I really had not spent a lot of my youth in a classroom. And it's not like I usually had occasion to write very many letters. You could say I was a little out of practice. I almost didn't know what to do with my pen. I started to feel extremely anxious--not because I was being told to write my will, but because I was staring at a blank sheet of paper. It was like being given a pop quiz! I had no idea what to write. I have no clear recollection of how the people around me were reacting to the crisis--I just remember panicking: "I would so much rather be practicing a form or doing drills right now. Anything but writing!" My mind had blanked out. What was I supposed to write?
I must have sat there for at least 10 minutes, totally at a loss. Then it hit me: "Aha! I should write yishu, or 'Will,' at the top of the page." The problem was that I couldn't remember how to write the first character, yi. So I turned to the adult scribbling next to me and asked politely, "Teacher, would you tell me how to write the yi in yishu?"
"Screw you," he answered, without turning his head.
I was very unhappy.
Fine, don't tell me--but there's no need to curse me.
When I look back, the situation seems totally ludicrous. Of course everybody else was agonizing about their impending death, and here I was asking a stupid question: "Uh, how do you spell 'will'?"
Never once did it occur to me that I might die--that the plane would crash and I would die. I wasn't afraid at all. I was too busy worrying about how to fill up the page.
I never did finish writing my will.
By some miracle, they unstuck the landing gear and we landed safely.
The enormity of the situation only struck me later, when they opened the door of the airplane to let us out. I looked out and that's when my legs went soft.
The entire airfield had been closed off - soldiers were everywhere, dozens of firetrucks were standing at alert with the hoses all primed and what seemed like fleets of emergency personnel were poised on the ground in starter's position, ready to sprint towards us.
It was an incomparable education, those tours.
