Making pathetic hand signals and desperately pointing at Quy Nhon on a map in the Lonely Planet, I managed to convince a taxi driver to take me to the domestic rather than the international airport. I waited for a long time in a queue as directed, only to discover when I got to the counter that it was completely the wrong one. I rushed to the other end of the airport and joined another group that resembled a group of people trying to buy a drink in a crowed bar much more than a traditional queue. To my considerable consternation I saw that, while the time for my flight was fast approaching, people’s luggage was being carefully counted and weighed. It was clear that a strict limit of only one piece of hand luggage and a maximum of 20kg checked in luggage was being applied. People were being told to leave bags and boxes behind. I had successfully taken my overweight bag (24kg), a carry-on bag, a laptop and a shoulder bag without problems on the international flights but now I was worried. As I waited in the ‘queue’, repeatedly losing my place as people wilier than I slipped ahead, I had plenty of time to concoct a plea for leniency. When it came to me I was simply asked if I would like a window seat and sent on my way. Whether this was because (a) time was running out, (b) I looked so bloody desperate or (3) the hassle of trying to tell me about it in English too much, I do not know but I was very grateful.
During all of this process I was amused to watch a group of approximately 30 Americans who appeared to have signed up for a “Buddhist Experience”. They were predominantly young women many of who wore wire framed spectacles. Their long brown robes were just as freshly new as the shaving of their heads. Practicing beatific smiles, and serene walks they stopped to talk earnestly with their accompanying monks but their eyes darted around brightly, willing us unenlightened westerners to notice them in their new roles. I suspect that some of them will not be able to maintain the appropriate attitudes and postures for long. I should not scoff at them because there was a time when, given the chance, I could have fallen for the same folly.
Once on the plane our departure was delayed by a sudden severe thunderstorm but eventually we were on our way. Clouds obscured the view until we approached Quy Nhon. As we circled over the city I had the opportunity to survey the land that I had been examining on Google Earth. A great surge of nervousness and shyness overtook me as I went forward to meet Phuoc and some of the other volunteers who would be my colleagues for the next year.
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