I remember visiting Chanda for the first time when I was 13, mostly because I was SO confused about the everything. The feeling of waking up in a hotel room with blaring sunlight in my eyes at 11am was too much for me. The whole week was overshadowed by this feeling that my body was too heavy to carry around and the only remedy was to give in to the fatigue and sleep for the rest of my life. My flair for the dramatic began at an early age.
Despite my early intolerance for changes in time, a transatlantic flight doesn't get to me anymore. Depending on my arrival time, I am usually functional within a day thanks to sleeping drugs, red wine and practice. But mostly the drugs. My latest flying adventure through me for a spin; flying from Zambia to MI and then MI to Austria with a week of "rest" in between. As usual, the first flight barely registered on my radar. Sure I stayed up unnecessarily late playing on facebook a few nights and woke up feeling a little tired, but nothing I couldn't handle.
Traveling to Vienna a week later, I found that my body was slightly more overwhelmed by the change. On the third night of my sojourn, I randomly woke at 2am to discover that I was no longer tired. Far from counting sheep, I decided a bowl of cereal and four episodes of "The Office" was the only way to pass my time. Two hours later, I finally fell back asleep.
On night number four I managed to sleep soundly. Well, that is until the honking outside wouldn't stop. I eventually climbed out of bed to discover a small accident and domestic dispute occurring on the closest street corner. Awesome! Thanks to the damage on one of the vehicles, every time the driver started the car the entire neighborhood enjoyed a prolonged honking (and not one of those pleasant horns either). My enthusiasm for the situation was heightened as three police cars and two firetrucks arrived at the scene. Soon all my neighbors were staring from their windows and enjoying the 3am entertainment. The combination of the young Turkish couple's domestic dispute and my neighbors yelling at them made me desperately want to understand German. There is a first time for everything. Eventually I fell back asleep, hoping the next night would bring a juicier episode on the Viennese streets.
My jet lag subsided by night number five, which is great and all, but I do miss my nocturnal TV. Maybe after my next flight across the Atlantic? Here's hoping!