Prologue
We live in Israel. Our parents and some of our siblings live in the USA. My parents come visit us on a very regular basis. Michal's parents less so, but they are still a known presence in our children's lives (the infrequent IRL visits being supplemented by Skype sessions). We travel to the States very, very infrequently. The last time I was there was nine years ago, for my brother Ari's wedding. Since then, Michal visited her mother with Elisheva, who was a baby, four years ago, and last summer we sent Chanania and Avigail for a few weeks to both sets of grandparents.
A few months ago, an idea began to form to have a large-scale family get-together in Woodstock, where I did most of my growing up and where my parents still live (at least some of the time). The basis for the family reunion was my mother's impending 70th birthday. The idea quickly turned into an actionable plan. Dates were chosen, plane tickets purchased, and we (actually just the kids) began counting the weeks and days until the day of departure. Like the last trip we made, nine years prior, we planned to split our time stateside between Michal's family and mine roughly one third and two thirds. Nine years ago, we had only three kids (and one in utero). This year, we have seven. This is an entirely different ballgame.
Leaving Home and Country
We carefully chose our flights. We didn't want a flight that left too early in the morning, so that we could have a calm start to the long day that lay ahead of us. A night flight was not optimal either, since that meant the kids (and their parents, as well) would have to try to get their entire night's sleep pent up in the airplane seats - that obviously wasn't going to end well. In the end, we found a flight that left at a quarter to noon. That way, we only needed to leave the house by 8:30, while on the other end of things it gave us many hours of flight time before the kids started to go into insanely tired mode.
We ordered two taxis to take us to the airport. We were traveling light - four suitcases and a stroller, plus a slew of carry-ons and smaller items. Binyamin was not traveling with us, since he functions as a counselor in the Ariel youth movement, and their camp is the week we traveled. He is scheduled to fly on his own the following Thursday. And so, the eight of us and all our luggage fit perfectly into two taxis. We got to the airport and got in line for check-in. After about an hour of waiting, we finally made it to the desk. Check-in took an inordinate amount of time, even for a party of eight. And the first sign of trouble appeared: our kosher meals had not been registered. We hoped that the regular airplane meals, since they were sourced from an Israeli supplier, would be kosher anyway.
Before security we stopped to eat some sandwiches, and suddenly it was ten minutes before boarding time, and we were on the wrong side of security. This was the first time we realized that taking six kids on the plane is not just more expensive and a greater load on your parental attention drive, it also takes a lot longer to do everything. We made it to the gate 15 minutes before takeoff. There were still a handful of passengers who hadn't boarded yet, so I let a friendly salesman convince me to sign up for a credit card that would give me frequent flyer miles. I was the last person to board the plane.
On the plane, we had seven seats all in one row (Moriah didn't get a seat, since she's not two years old yet). The plane had three sections with three seats in each. We had the entire left and middle sections of our row, and the aisle seat of the right section. Initially we sat, from left to right: Elisheva, Avigail, Chanania, Noam, Amiel, Michal, and me isolated in the lone aisle seat. The logic was that Avigail (13) could take care of Elisheva (3), Chanania (11) doesn't need a parental figure next to him, and Michal would be in arm's reach of the two boys next to her. An aisle seat with no children next to me? I wasn't going to complain! Of course, Moriah (1.5) would be on my lap some of the time, but I didn't have sole responsibility for her.
We left the ground almost an hour late, but the captain assured us that the flight had been originally scheduled with a 25 minute buffer (we ended up landing 5 minutes after the original arrival time). The children were all calm and excited. We had plenty of things to help them pass the hours: coloring books, card games, novels, what have you. What we didn't take into account was that the multimedia devices installed in the seat backs would be a much effective and powerful means to that end. At first, Elisheva was intensely involved with her coloring book while everyone else, myself and Moriah excepted, were absorbed in there screens. Then Elisheva got hooked, too.
 |
Mass hypnotism |
Insomnia at 30,000 feet
I had one primary focus that preempted any interest in watching a film on the flight: sleep. The prior two nights I had been suffering from a cold that alternately made my nose completely stuffed, or streamed very thin mucus out my nostrils. Both nights it took my hours to final fall asleep. The night before the flight I had only succeeded in sleeping about three hours, propped up on the couch so my head was almost upright. After all were settled and fed, Michal granted me a release from all filial duties in order to try to sleep. I closed my eyes and did my best to get comfortable. For the better part of two hours I tried my darndest, but I was unable to lose consciousness.
Food, glorious food
Our misgivings at the check-in counter resolved themselves into deep concern when the stewardesses confirmed we were not on the kosher meal list. The regular meals, while produced in Israel, were entirely without markings on them. There was a single extra kosher meal, which they gladly gave to us. And then, we began foraging. In the row behind us were two religious young women who didn't seem interested at all in the kosher meals they'd ordered. They happily passed us their meals, minus the main, hot portion which one girl preferred to keep for herself. We beseeched the flight staff to pass on to us any unopened kosher meals. In the end, we had 5.5 meals, instead of the seven we were eligible for. But since the kids don't have enormous appetites for airplane food, we ended up having one and a half intact meals left over.
Down to the bitter end
Most of the flight went smoothly - the kids were locked into their screens, the three littles ones fell asleep, and the flight staff was able to supply us with ample amounts of kosher food. About an hour before landing (already after midnight for us), we had an unpleasant surprise: both Elisheva and Noam (5) had wet themselves while sleeping. Now I felt like I was in a Mission Impossible movie - the aisles were blocked by carts collecting garbage, only one bathroom was unoccupied, I was in one aisle and the still-sleeping children in the other, and the changes of clothes were in an undisclosed location in one of the carry on bags. Somehow I made it happen, but we were still in the bathroom (all three of us crammed in together) when the plane started to descend.
We all got seated again, but since Elisheva seat was a little wet, she sat on my lap during the descent. About 20 minutes before we landed, she started bawling inconsolably. She was deep in the overtired-insane state in which she ignores any attempt to get information out of her regarding the source of her anguish. I assumed it was ears, and I urged her to take a drink of water. She refused. After the plane actually landed, I asked her if she wanted to go to Michal. Within seconds she stopped crying. Somewhere in all this chaos I vowed to never again do transatlantic travel with kids under the age of 6.
Welcome to Canada, please remove your shoes
We landed in Toronto, with a connection in just under two hours to Boston. Due to congestion in the airfield, it took us nearly half an hour to reach our gate. Once off the plane, we began to hustle to our connecting flight. We were directed to a separate connecting area for flights to the US. We had known that we going to go through US passport control in Toronto, but we didn't understand the full import of that fact. Now we hit full-blown all-American paranoid security. Take off your shoes, belts, etc.
I am involved in a startup that is developing a platform for winery management and substance monitoring. A week ago my partner and I made a professional visit to a boutique winery in order to collect data. When we were done there, the owner gifted each of us with a rather pricy bottle of wine. When preparing for the flight, the Air Canada website stated that alcohol needs to be transported in a carry on bag, and declared at check in. At check in for our first flight, I mentioned that a had a bottle of wine with me, and the attendant just sort of nodded okay. Now, in Toronto, the TSA agent gave me two choices: let go of the wine, or check it as luggage. I looked behind me. We had already waited twenty minutes in line for security. Our flight left in an hour and fifteen minutes. I was going to say "You should really just take it home and drink it yourself", but I caught myself. The TSA agent was a Muslim woman - she'd probably get insulted if I suggest she ingest alcohol. So I said, "Really, someone should take it and drink it - it's a really good bottle of wine." She shrugged and said, "We can't do that", as she dropped it unceremoniously into the trash can behind her. I wondered if she meant that it's alcohol, so she can't drink it, or that the TSA policy forbids taking any confiscated goods. I know she meant the latter, but I hope she really meant both. Either way, the fancy bottle of booze I'd planned to give my mother on her birthday was lost to a flight security catch-22: on the way into Canada, I had to have it in my carry on. On the way out of Canada, it had to be checked. In between, there wasn't even time to go the bathroom.
Noam had been complaining that he needs to use the bathroom from just before the time the plane touched down. Half an hour later, we made it through security and reached the automated visa machines. Looking back on our travails, I'm remembered of a line from one of the best movies of all time, The Princess Bride. Westley and Princess Buttercup are braving the perils of the fire swamp in an attempt to escape their pursuers. Just after escaping from the fire spurts lightning sand, Westley says confidently to his love that they're safe now, seeing as the purported "rodents of unusual size" most likely don't even exist. And then one jumps on him.
These automated machines take almost as much time as filling out the entire form manually. They have a glass panel with a scanner underneath. You put the photo page of the passport face down, and it's supposed to do all the work. Supposed to. It works very slowly, sometimes not clear if it's working at all. It took us many minutes to convince the machine to scan all our passports, and then another drawn out few minutes while it "processed the request" and finally printed out the little papers. All the while Noam reminded us more and more urgently that he needed to pee. We walked around to the next stage: the line to the customs agents. The line moved along at a reasonable pace, but at this point the kids started to really go bonkers. A woman behind us in line sympathized with us, while Michal remarked that from the time you start security to the time you get through to the terminal takes almost an hour - enough for a person to keel over from dehydration (since you can't bring liquids through). Finally we made it through, with 25 minutes to takeoff.
We found our gate (after a pitstop) and saw that they were still boarding. Then we looked up and saw that the flight was to Los Angeles, not Boston. I inquired about a flight to Boston, but the woman at the desk had no idea what I wanted. We skipped over to the giant flight monitor nearby, and saw that our flight had been moved from it's original gate. We walked another five minutes, and got to the right place, at last. 15 minutes left until takeoff. I lurked off to a corner of the boarding area to quickly get in the afternoon prayer. Michal shouted after me something about my boarding pass, but I was too stressed and overtired to really care, or even hear what she was saying. I finished praying with four people still in line to board. I walked over, to the desk, saw that the attendant had Moriah's passport and boarding pass. She knew I was the adult that the infant passenger was responsible for, but she needed by boarding pass. I said I don't have it, that my wife had boarded already and taken it with. After some hemming and hawing she printed me out a new boarding pass, and the other attendant was to accompany me onto the plane to see my passport. Again I was the last person to board the plane. On the plane, I was told that Chanania had been sent to bring me my passport and boarding pass while I was praying, and he'd put it in the pocket of my backpack. How was I supposed to know this? It didn't matter any more. We were clear. The plane didn't push off for a while, because apparently one passenger had checked in luggage, but not shown up for the flight. I was glad that we were not in that situation. Then, all of a sudden, another passenger boarded the plane, a woman I'd seen at the gate when I boarded. Was she the no-show? Then we hadn't she boarded earlier? I got no answers to these questions in my head.
This second flight was very short and uneventful, until near the end. Less than half an hour before landing, Elisheva began her inconsolable wailing once more. She refused to sit or be held - she lowered herself to the floor and refused to budge. Then, suddenly, she began to vomit. I scrounged for an air sickness bag, but none were to be found. She finished vomiting, I ran to the bathroom to get some paper towels to wipe up the floor, and then I found myself in an oddly familiar situation: in the airplane bathroom, getting a child cleaned up, with the plane rapidly descending.
This second flight was very short and uneventful, until near the end. Less than half an hour before landing, Elisheva began her inconsolable wailing once more. She refused to sit or be held - she lowered herself to the floor and refused to budge. Then, suddenly, she began to vomit. I scrounged for an air sickness bag, but none were to be found. She finished vomiting, I ran to the bathroom to get some paper towels to wipe up the floor, and then I found myself in an oddly familiar situation: in the airplane bathroom, getting a child cleaned up, with the plane rapidly descending.
The Show's Not Over Until They're All Asleep
We landed in Boston, at 8:30 local time, and quickly made our way to the baggage claim. Three of our four suitcases arrived. Michal and two of the kids went off in search of someone to file a claim with, and I collapsed on a nearby bench with the rest of the kids. At the same time she was trying to contact her sister, Sonya, who was coming to pick us up. Another flight's luggage came through our turnstile. Still nothing. Eventually, Michal reappeared, having found the right person, and told me that Sonya was outside. I sent the older kids out to find there aunt, and I began to drag the suitcases one by one. Sonya was a beam of bright sunshine after our long and wearying journey. The car was ready, trunk emptied, car seats in place, fresh fruit for all to enjoy. I was starting to feel like maybe the end was in sight. Adam, Sonya's husband, was on his way with a second car. I loaded the suitcases into the car, strapped Moriah, Elisheva, and Amiel into the back seat, and left Michal (who hadn't finished filing the lost luggage claim) with three kids, the stroller, and some backpacks. As soon as Moriah was buckled in she started screaming. I assured Sonya (and myself) that she'll calm down and fall asleep as soon as the car starts moving. I wasn't entirely wrong, but her screaming lasted longer than expected, and only about 10 minutes into the ride she finally quieted down. We made it to their house, I put Moriah straight into her bed, and immediately started getting the two (who had only drowsed a little in the car) ready as well. The second carload arrived before I had done much, and everyone else poured into the house. We had been given the basement suite, two bedrooms and a bathroom. There were two beds less than the total number of people, so the foldout couch in the living room was utilized as well. At around 11 o'clock (which was 6 in the morning for us!), we were finally able to hit the hay. It had been a long day. Perhaps the longest day in my entire life.
