The idea behind this blog is to give you an appreciation of what it is like to be a white hatter, volunteering at the airport. All experiences described are as they occurred.
Every thought is either an expression of love or a projection of fear – Marianne Williamson
I wandered over to a mature lady in her 50's standing by the gate, who was showing some wear on her face after years of life. Her eyes noticed my advance and my western costume. I asked if she was looking for something. She did not need me for anything, really, I knew that, but I wanted to chat. She said she was just waiting for her sister.
“Well, is she as good looking as you are?”
She studied me briefly, never missed a beat and said, “Oh yes, and even moreso! She is so incredibly beautiful!”
She was playing with me as I with her and she will have that smile on her face for the rest of the day. I saw her sister from a distance later and I am sure she was a beautiful person inside.
A tense gentleman looking confused and ticked asks sternly, “Where the heck is Gate C70?"
“Where are you going?"
“Winnipeg!"
“Winnipeg? Oh no, that is really too bad! What on earth do you want to go there for? You could just stay here, you know! You do have a great hockey team though and that counts for something! What we like to do is really confuse our customers because it acts as a source of entertainment for us. Besides, if everything was straight forward, then we would get bored and therefore, no one would need our help and we would just be standing around with nothing to do!”
He soaked in my comments, realized there must be no urgency to the situation, and was now completely relaxed, and just waited patiently for me to get onto his subject and give him what he wanted to hear.
“Gate C70 will display on a screen in this area once a counter has been assigned.”
Satisfied with my answer, he decided to chat with me for awhile as he waited figuring why not because after all, I am just a white hatter.
A young Japanese fellow with a strong accent wanted to know where he could pick up his luggage and check it back in for the next leg of his flight, which started (based on his own words) in "Fwowida." I really only knew he was Japanese because of his accent, not able to pronounce his 'l's.” Because of the corridor he walked down, I told him no worries, his luggage was checked through to Vancouver, his final destination. He said no, that cannot be as he was required to pick up his luggage. I asked for his boarding pass and luggage ticket for proof, the latter showing his luggage was checked all the way through to Vancouver. He said no, he needed to pick up his luggage. I am trying to figure out if he cannot understand me or what? Lets try this again.
“The custom officials sent you down this corridor because your luggage was checked through to Vancouver and your luggage ticket proves this to be correct!"
“I was towd to pick up my wuggage and I want to tawk to Westjet!”
Even if his luggage was incorrectly put on the carousel for pickup, there was no way he could get back there, now that he was in the domestic terminal, but I did not try to explain this point. Fine then, do not listen to me. I told him (since there were no agents close by) to take the YYCLink bus to Concourse A, which is halfway to the next city, then keep walking north once you get off, until he gets to the Customer Care Centre for Westjet to get confirmation. Once they confirm what I am said, he will then need to get back on that YYCLink and come back to the International Terminal where I am standing, because this is the area where his next flight is leaving from! I don't know if he quite understood, but he had time. I think what happened was they made an announcement on the plane meant for others and he did not understand.
A slinky, cat-like teenage Korean lady, who was about 90 pounds soaking wet, with holes drilled through her face to put chunks of metal in place and who also could only speak broken English came over to ask me a question. She was a true immature ding-a-ling, which made interacting an enjoyable event. I am so happy that everyone is different! She wanted to know where was Gate C72 for an Air Canada flight to Vancouver. There was a Westjet flight showing on a screen at a counter for the same gate. I asked for her boarding pass and it showed Air Canada leaving in like...three house time. I explained that one of the screens in this area will show her flight and departure once it is closer to the time and especially after a different Westjet flight has left the gate. She looked at me puzzled as she was expecting a permanent counter for this gate. I told her to be patient and keep her eye on the screens and check back two hours from now! A half hour later, not satisfied with my answer, she comes to me again and I give her the same answer but using different wording. Why can no one understand me anymore? I think she finally got it as she chose eventually to twist herself up in a knot on a chair and wait!
A humbled non offensive elder who had his wife in a wheel chair just wanted some assurance they were in the right area, nothing else, having accepted what fate brought them and not wanting any new issues to surface. His Air Canada flight to Vancouver was to board at 7:00 PM and leave at 7:30. It was 6:50 and the flight was not displayed yet on any screen! A screen showed instead a Westjet flight going to Kitchener, but it had left already. Along came others also looking for the same flight. I tracked down an agent working on her PC to update the screens and she frantically said they were "working on it!" I had the elder look out the window to show there was an Air Canada plane at his gate and he just had to wait until they had the screen display his flight properly. Sure enough, at 6:55, a screen lit up, and so I walked back to relay to the elder and he was so incredibly appreciative of my assistance and for remembering him, as he was at the mercy of the process. The plane was 20 minutes late boarding.
An embarrassed middle aged mother of three wholesome boys asked me sheepishly if I could get a cleaning lady since her son spilled a huge, heaping glass of chocolate milk all over the tiled floor, leaving a big lake of brown liquid under three chairs. No one was sitting anywhere close to that area, as it was a complete disaster zone. These things happen! Once arrangements had been made, I walked over to the younger one and looked squarely in his eyes, but softly said to him that he was the one who spilled that milk! He showed no guilt and pleaded innocence by shaking his head and pointing to his older brother, who pointed to the oldest brother, who shook his head. Well then, it must have been the father (and he just smiled)! No one owned up to the mistake. I noticed the mother was much relieved to see the cleanup take place before they went to the gate... hmmmm, so she was involved in the accident! The family knew better to not tell me the complete story as it was a family secret! It must have been junior who had that milk and placed it under his chair for his mother to spill!
I was driving the cart and came across a young, well dressed lady in her 30's standing by a wall all by herself with on one else around, halfway along the corridor from her gate. No one stops there and so thought this was a little weird and thus my curiosity was triggered. I asked if I could help.
“No, that's okay, I am just waiting for my husband who had to take a phone call."
“Those husbands, you just cannot count on them for anything!”
“You got that right, completely unreliable, cannot do anything right either! He is always doing this to me!”
Just then, a tall, dark handsome with confidence walked past and I noticed she gave him a second look, but it was not her husband.
“You know, you have an opportunity to pick up somebody else along here if you want, a chance to break away and start over!"
“Yeah, I know, kind of tempting, but there is only one problem."
“What's that?"
“Well, hubby has my passport and driver's license that I need to go through customs!"
“Oh, good grief, that is so unfortunate! You are completely screwed then! Sorry I cannot help!”
Off I went. I have no idea whether she was kidding or not.
I zip up to the farthest gate for a flight coming in from Houston. Here comes a heavy set, big and round middle aged lady just labouring so much with her cane. It would have taken forever to get to customs and so I offered to take her on the cart. She thought about it, then said why not. To get on the cart, she needed to be able to step on a platform about eight inches high from the ground. She tried three times and could not do it! How she got into her present physical state and what was exactly wrong with her, I had no idea. All I knew was that she 'was who she was', and really needed my help, but how? I ruled out pulling her on and had to help her from behind. But where should I grab her?
If I grabbed her around the middle and heaved, twisted, and rolled her onto the cart, something like what they would do in steer wrestling, she could have ended up with her head on the cart floor and her feet in the air! That would not have looked good taken her to customs that way! Forget that idea! I could not push her behind in this day and age and so I finally decided to lift her with my hands under her armpits. Fortunately they were not wet! On the count of three, I managed to lift her enough so she took that step and she was able to twist herself around to plop down on the seat. To get off at customs was an easy task as it was all downhill. I decided that next time I will climb onto the front of the cart with my knees on the seat and reach out with my hand and pull her on. That probably would work, unless her weight caused me to lose my centre of balance and pull me off the cart! Despite our challenges, she was much appreciative of my help.
As Westjet has a new flight from Mexico City, I have noticed more Mexicans coming in for a visit of Calgary. Three decided to experience getting a ride on a cart with a cowboy since this was something different, one being a mature Mexican hombre with two young senoritas complete with colorful bulky flowing Spanish dresses on. Talking about nothing until we arrived at customs, I had to stop a bit prematurely since there was a cart ahead of me and people coming into this bottleneck area from different flights. One senorita asked if she could get a picture taken of her with me in the cart. This is a common request and despite the busy location, I agreed to cooperate. So she climbed into the seat and snuggled up while her sister took the picture with others looking on. Then her sister wanted to take her picture with me and so we had to do this all over again. Thinking we were done, they wanted yet a third picture! By this time we had created quite a traffic jam with carts behind, one in front wanting to go back to pick up others, and people trying to get around us. Before I could say anything, the elderly Mexican was given the camera, and I had two Mexican ladies sitting beside me in the cart! Fortunately that was it, so that the traffic jam could start clearing away. At least everyone was most patient to allow us to complete our task.
Having given my cart to a buddy, I went to Arrivals for the next hour and took on greeting travelers who had officially arrived after customs and luggage pickup. Three elderly ladies came towards me and I knew what they had been up to. They just got back from Las Vegas for a ladies night on the town, or three, did some gambling perhaps, definitely took him some shows, had a few drinks and lots to eat, and what happens in Las Vegas stays there.
Their leader chose to ask, "Hey there cowboy, could you tell us where pillar 37 is?"
"Certainly. It is beside pillar 36."
That's all it took for them to mess with me next. Of course I eventually told them where they had to go, but I was just a part of their overall experience and something they can relay to their other friends and family once they get back home into their own world. My comment was just icing on the cake to complete what they experienced during their get away.
Two young innocent girls who looked vulnerable came over with their adorable smiles in place. I noticed they looked alike and they were indeed sisters looking for their father who was supposed to be there to pick them up. Their father had given them permission to take the flight without parental supervision, yet he was not there to greet them. Rather strange. I had the girls call him using my cell phone, but there was no answer. They chose to walk around a bit in the area to look for him since they decided against phoning their step mom as a backup plan, concluding this was not a very good idea. I did not like the look of this situation. I told them fine but to keep together (an elder giving advice). Perhaps they did not have the best parental support they deserved! At least they knew who to come to for help but I really blew this one, as I should have sent them over to the Information Booth and had their father paged in case he was in the building, then stayed with them until they were in safe hands.
Sometimes in the spur of the moment in a busy crowd, you just simply cannot think of all options available, but you do the best you can. I am grateful for my experiences because I truly believe they also knew I was trying my best to help in anyway I could (well, for the most part), and they were most appreciative of my help.