Episode 1:  Getting There

December 9, 2007 4:30 a.m. (Kuwait Time)
Mahboula, Kuwait
By Mary Sincioco

“Travelers never think that they are the foreigners.”
—Mason Cooley

Well, I arrived in Kuwait exactly 32 hours ago. It is currently 4:30 a.m. Kuwait time, but I can’t sleep because it feels like 12:30 p.m.! So I thought I would write down my experiences so far, before I take in much more and forget the details of my first few hours in Kuwait.

Love is a Powerful Motivator

For those of you who have not heard from me for a long time, you may be wondering, “What the heck is Mary doing in KUWAIT of all places?” Well, my husband Sin (his nickname, short for Sincioco) has been working in Camp Arifjan, Kuwait, since September 2007. After 7 months apart while he was serving as a Marine last year in Iraq, I was not willing to be parted from him for so long again, so I made the perhaps insane plan to move to Kuwait with him! (Much to the surprise of my friends and family). Naively, I thought I would move here much sooner but unfortunately it took a LONG time for my residence visa paperwork to be initiated. In fact, I’m still working on it . . . I’m here on a temporary visa. But I am extremely grateful to be in Kuwait with my husband now!

Not Strangers; Friends I Haven’t Met Yet

After several weeks of preparations and mailing exactly 11 trunks of stuff ahead of me, I finally got on the plane in Atlanta, Georgia for an 8-hour flight to Frankfurt, Germany. The trip was actually more fun than I expected because I found so many fascinating people to talk to at the airport and on the plane. I met an elderly gentleman from Romania at the check-in line, and we spent several minutes talking animatedly to each other, albeit in our respective languages. Without having any idea what the other was saying! I thought to myself with a smile, “Get ready for a year of this!”

I also talked to several Army guys, one of whom was near tears as he told me about his wife of two months that he was leaving behind for an 18-month tour in Iraq. My brother Matt just left for Iraq as well, leaving behind his lovely new wife Diana, so I could sympathize with his situation. Sounds cliché but no matter how one feels about the war in Iraq, one must recognize that our military give up so much to serve our country.

Other interesting people I met: My Indian seatmate Sundar, who told me about the short 3-hour flight from Kuwait to India (I really wanna go!). A Romanian mother whose 3-year old screamed and whined his way through most of our overnight flight (poor woman, and poor US!). A British flight attendant who casually asked about my travel plans only to look at me askance upon hearing them, then after a few stuttering moments he managed to say, “Good luck with THAT!”

Uninspiring Layover

I certainly wished Sin was with me during the next part of the journey. I had a six-hour long layover in Frankfurt, Germany – and spent the majority of that time walking up and down the B wing because it hurt too bad to sit down after the first flight! That, and discovering that the 20 Euros in my pocket didn’t buy much more than a sandwich and a coke. Oh, and climbing several flights of stairs – that’s right, there is no cushy ramp connecting the plane to the concourse like us spoiled Americans have! As you drag yourself off the plane, bleary-eyed, you face an eternity of slippery black marble steps to climb with a carry-on bag that now seems ridiculously heavy. I’m sure many of my fellow travelers can relate!

In the end, I made it to my next flight, a far more pleasant five-hour journey from Frankfurt to Kuwait City. There were even TV screens in the backs of all the seats with several movie choices. Which I failed to take advantage of, because by this time I was practically unconscious. I managed a few hours of shut-eye before landing in Kuwait City.

“Into the Belly of the Beast”

With trepidation, I descended from the plane into a cacophony of voices in different languages. Overwhelmed, I was near to tears as I tried to figure out how to get through the mobs of people applying for tourist visas, find my luggage, and pass through customs. I was somewhat comforted to notice several other travelers with the same look of wide-eyed panic that was probably plastered on my face. And instead of giving up, I took heart in the certainty that my husband was in the same airport at that very moment, anxiously awaiting my arrival.

I somehow managed to complete the required visa paperwork and prepared to wait in the customs line. Much to my surprise, I was led off to the side by a guard and hustled through customs, bypassing the line entirely. Sin later told me that it was because I was a white woman, and can expect to be treated like royalty by the Kuwaitis this year. My husband, on the other hand, being Filipino, laughed that he was probably being mistaken for my servant as he carried my luggage into our apartment complex. “Almost makes me ashamed to be white,” I told him, "but I guess today I should appreciate any good treatment that I get."

—Mary Sincioco