We made it home by the skin of our teeth. Me, Scarlett, and Ami flew out of Argentina on Wednesday (Buenos Aires to Rio de Janeiro to Dubai to Melbourne…40 hours door-to-door). By Thursday, Argentina shut down all commercial flights in and out of the country.
This week I want to do a shout out to some everyday heroes along the journey.
Firstly, the Emirates flight attendants.
I had a conversation with three of them, and started by saying “Thank you, you’re doing an amazing job. I can’t imagine what you’re going through right now”.
In response, they shared some of what they are going through. They are all scared about the possibility of themselves and their colleagues being infected. They were going to all be tested upon landing. They are working in one of the most dangerous work places on the planet right now. They were exhausted and scared.
What they were too classy to say was that on top of all that they are also dealing with passengers who, to put it generously, are not all being the best version of themselves. And I imagine they are scared about their jobs … right now working for an airline can’t feel that secure.
So yeah, the fact that they were even standing was amazing.
Secondly, the security guy outside at the drop-off zone at Melbourne airport. After 40 hours of travelling where I hadn’t really slept I got off the plane with our 5 pieces of cabin luggage. Ami had lost it so I was carrying her and four of the bags while Scarlett pushed the fifth bag.
I collected 5 of our 6 pieces of checked luggage … but when I picked up the sixth one I looked at the tag and it was someone else’s. I watched it go around 3 more times, and then realised that David (according to the name tag on that bag) had picked up my bag and left. So, there was another 30 minutes of queuing up and dealing with baggage services while managing my two deliriously tired girls, before finally getting out.
Trish came to pick up the girls and some of the luggage. Even though it’s against the rules I asked her to come to the drop-off point because its closer. I’m pushing two trolleys, each with 100 kg of luggage on them, one in each hand. Ami is still hysterical. She’s pulling on my shirt, telling me I’m not being fair, and why aren’t I caring for her. By this stage I’m at my limit. I’m also crying and saying to Ami sorry, I don’t have anything left. In five minutes, we’ll see mum. Just hang on a bit longer.
Then we see the security guy. I don’t even know his name. His job is to stop people like me stuffing up the system and getting picked up where we shouldn’t. He took one look at me, summed up the situation, and grabbed one of my trolleys and pushed it to the car, said good luck and went on his way.
Finally, a shout out to Mum and Dad who are supporting us during our isolation. They are both shopping for us and delivering meals to our doorstop (we live on the same property, but in different houses). Dad’s my barista, bringing coffee. And Mum is curbing every instinct in her body and resisting hugging her granddaughters for 14 days while we’re in isolation.
Thank you to all the everyday heroes out there at this time.
