Flying East While Going West

We are climbing out of Jeddah at 3000 feet per minute, carbon fiber blades are spinning at 33,000 rpm hungrily consuming 200 pounds of fossil fuel every minute while it pulls gallons of air through itself to propel us forward. I glance at the center fuel tank quantity gage. It shows 1200 lbs. Engines are burning just under 6 thousand pounds an hour each now. Let's see, that should be about 6 minutes before I have to turn the center tank pumps off. I start the stopwatch, just to see if my prediction is accurate. Wow, I must be bored. I look outside and see single dots of lights dispersed randomly in mountain valleys. What would it be like to live there - far away from the city. What do those people think about? What motivates them? What makes them laugh or cry? What are they afraid of? What are they passionate about? How do they view the world? I will miss this place, when I leave. Even after 5 years I love to hear the prayer call. It's still exotic. I love to rehash inside jokes with Muslim men just by a word or a knowing smile, that reminds us both of previous conversations. We ask about our kids by name. We remember each others' upcoming vacation plans. We remember what makes the other laugh, despite the chasm of world view that supposedly separates us. I wave at the mechanic that comes up to greet us as we pull the airplane into it's parking spot. He points at his wedding ring and then lifts up two fingers with a smile reminding me of a previous time he was goading me to get a second wife. "Why shouldn't my wife get a second husband?" I had asked him. He had tried to explain to me how women's needs were different, etc. - all with obvious tongue in cheek. I will miss these guys, this land full of mystery and complexity. I will miss sitting on the floor with eight other guys eating out of the same plate of kabsa with our hands. I will miss walking by the carpeted rooms with shoes scattered around the doorway and looking in to see dispatchers and baggage handlers, pilots and managers all standing in a row, shoulder to shoulder facing west with bare feet and humble submission to their God.

Desecration

Thinking. Thinking about life. The colors of the sky during evening and morning. The coolness of morning air on my face. The miracle of flight. Technology and nature united, working together to perform a miracle. I'm thinking about all the hatred. All these people hating each other because of different explanations for the origin of time. Nobody is willing to say, "I don't know." But this fascinating life with all it's wonders and complexity is desecrated by their vitriol.

Sunshine!

So I've just transitioned out of a dark cave into the light. The cave was nice, cool, safe, out of the heat of the sun, but I didn't know where I was going. Sure I could just stay there, but it wasn't where I wanted to be. There was no excitement or future in it. This is the best analogy to my situation right now. I have suddenly found my way out of the cave and see a breathtaking view of the future. I just interviewed and was hired by major U.S. airline and all my pent up anxiety about the future has been released. I was trying so hard to get in, and it happened. For the record my interview was last Wednesday and Thursday, November 14-15, 2012. It was challenging, and at least from one evaluator, the only one that gave me feedback, it was a close call. Not sure why - he said something about wondering if I would ever "let my hair down" and show myself. I think I was trying hard to give all the right answers and he wasn't able to see me behind all my carefulness. Anyway, he said it all depended on an answer to the last question he gave, which was something like, how would I make a 4 day trip enjoyable if I were to fly with him. I barely remember my response but, according to him, I "knocked it out of the park." All I said was that I love getting to know people and that all I would do is find out as much about him as I could. For some reason, that resonated with him. Anyway, I am now to wait for a class day, and am told it may take a while, maybe even 6-7 months. But I have nothing to loose. There is a light at the end of the tunnel. I have plenty of time to get ready and I'll only be making more money while I wait. But what a desert at the end - just to dream of Hawaii, Mexico, Alaska, getting to know many new people and returning home. Maybe living in Anchorage for a few years, settling down in the land of customer service and like-minded people, but with a rich perspective of life; time to test my writing skills while on the road. And what a great way to retire! I'm in a state of euphoria. It seems nothing can go wrong now.

Under the Cloud

Living under the cloud of "needing to make a difference" is tiresome. I've spent so much of my life hoping somehow God would use me to lead someone to himself - or to becoming a Christian. Most of the time I'm disappointed in myself because nothing happens. I can't get the nerve up to talk about God. When I do it doesn't seem to go anywhere, or it bothers the listener. Or I get myself in a position where I realize I don't really know what I'm talking about or can't find a way to defend it. Also I feel stuck inside this very fallible personality and character. So easily swayed in my purpose by my desire to be liked. And I'm getting tired of trying to achieve the impossible. I can't change anybody, and no one is going to change on my account - least of all by watching my life. They haven't and they probably won't. So why continue to live in disappointment. Living under the expectation that "reading the bible more" will make me into this super Christian. The more I read the bible the more I get pissed off. Yet I read it every day anyway, giving myself license to react to it honestly. It's refreshing to be honest, but I don't feel like I'm "growing" as a result. I'm just getting more jaded. Gotta go.

Good and Evil in a Modern World

One notion that this liberated postmodern man has been unable to let go of, despite having recently freed himself of the religious notions of his parents and rebuilt his worldview entirely on only what can be proven scientifically, is the notion of good and evil. He can't seem to let it go. It must exist, and it must be explainable within his new peridyme, because without it there is no meaning or passion or texture to life. In fact life becomes a story without a plot. Everything is flatlined. I mean, think about it. Why do we do anything, really. It's usually because we think it is a good thing to do. Even when we do something that we know is wrong, we have somehow justified it in our minds before we do it. It is the basis of every argument, every endevour, every motivation. We wake up to it in the morning, and we fall asleep to it every night (unless, of course, it's keeping us awake). God might be dead, but good and evil are alive and well. How then do we explain what it is? I mean, this used to be easy. Good is good because God said it is good. But now that God is out of the picture, what justifies our indignacy at being wronged. Some have said that good is what keeps the human race going. It's just another word for efficient cohabitation. Others have said good is what makes us happy, and evil is what causes suffering. But if we reduce good and evil to a theory, what do we have left to evaluate our theory with. We can't really evaluate if the longevity of the human race is good or that suffering is bad, because these evaluations are made outside of our definition. Even these two theories themselves are incompatible, as the longevity of the human race seems to bring about more suffering than it does happiness. The more we think about good and evil, the more we come to realize that they really stand outside of everything. Despite not being able to agree entirely on what is good and what is evil, we all seem to know they exist and are worth defending, even though we don't really know why.

Wind

I joined a writer's group a few months ago, and one of our assignments was to write about something we like. I chose to write about wind: I love the coolness on my face when I open the window over a steaming hot sink.  I love how it chases away stale air and bad smells I love how it suddenly surges a candle flame with light and life Or awakens a tree Or churns an ocean I love how it playfully messes up tidy gardens and pathways with leaves and sand,  Just for the sheer delight of watching people put it all back so it can do it again.  I love how it cools my lips and throat when I'm running  And fills every tired crevice in my body with energy, life and heightened awareness As it moves through me, stiff joints become soft and limber, colors are brighter, sounds are clearer and a rhythmic give and take of wind sets in as I find my pace.  Eventually fatigue comes and wind no longer invigorates,  but sustains.  I gasp heavily for more air and it always delivers, holding me up and coaxing me forward.  But what I love most about wind is what it does to an airplane Pulling unseemly metal and fabric high up into itself  Showing  its occupants sights otherwise never beheld.  Because of wind I have seen a setting sun rise as it carried me up And I've seen it set under the clouds Only to appear again as I settled below them Making islands of snow covered mountaintops turn pink in a sea of fog. 

Bias Is Beautiful

History is not a record of the past, it is a record of perceptions of the past. The true past, as it really was, is gone, ...forever ...never to be recovered. Why? Because just as with the evening news, nothing recorded as history can be free of bias. But not all is lost. What is left is possibly even more valuable. What every historical account gives us is a glimpse inside the mind of one who has perceived. When we read (listen or watch) history, we see a biased view, not only in how something observed is described, but in what is described. Assuming everything could be observed, not everything observed can be recorded, since it usually takes longer to record than to observe. But not everything is observed. There are a lot of things that happen that we simply miss, just because we aren't looking for them, or are distracted by something else we find more interesting. So when we read history we are actually reading about something that someone else decided was important. We are reading someone's bias, even before they have interpreted what they saw. But are most historical accounts primary sources? That is, are they accounts of actual observations? Not usually. We usually aren't reading a person's perception of what they saw. We are reading a historian's interpretation of what a person said they saw, and the truth is tainted yet again by another bias. Not only that, but we the reader, can't escape the effect of our own biases. So reading history is rather like the 2010's blockbuster movie "Inception" where Leonardo DiCaprio's character finds himself in a dream within a dream within a dream. We are quite far removed from the actual past, but we are face to face with bias. Living as a Christian guest in arguably the most conservative Muslim nation in the Middle East, has made me much more aware of my own bias, just by observing the bias of others. What has been remarkable to me, is not how different these biases are from my own, but in fact in their familiarity. My Muslim neighbor and I grew up with a monotheistic world-view. The primary cause in an infinite chain of cause and effect has been attributed to a personal being we both call "God" (Allah comes from two Arabic words: "al," which means "the," and "lah," which means "god."). Both of us have been told over and over again that this God jealously guards his "one-ness" as he does his demand for moral purity. We have also been told that he is merciful, and willing to forgive the one is truely repentant. So we have spent our lives trying hard to be good, while perpetually seeking forgiveness when we are not. Our perceptions have allowed us to allow for the supernatural to occur, whether it be Muhammad's miraculous overnight trip from Mecca to Jerusalem on a winged steed, or Elijah's flight to heaven on a chariot of fire. All of these beliefs affect how we perceive everything we experience. Our differences are few, really, compared to the ardent naturalist, but even though we are similar, each one of us has a unique but fallible view of the world. All of us, including the naturalist have one thing in common. We all long to know what is true.

Dubai Duty

One exciting aspect to my job is that every six months I am assigned to go through what we call recurrent training. Usually this involves a couple of days in a classroom going over all the aircraft systems and how to handle different malfunctions. The rest of the week is spent in a full motion flight simulator, where we practice dealing with a litany emergencies such as engine failures, fires, and equipment malfunctions. Many of these problems are to be dealt with pre-determined actions that we have memorized. Others require a bit of thinking and application of some of our system knowledge, or the use of an emergency checklist. It is always an exciting week, and I usually learn a lot. The other fun thing is that this training is outsourced by other companies that specialize in providing this sort of training. The aircraft I happen to be flying and the availability of the training facilities will determine where I will go for this training. So far I've gone to Paris, Toronto, Wichita, and this last week I was in Dubai. Dubai is a fascinating city with a myriad of things to do. I didn't have much time to do many things myself, but my wife and daughter came along and took advantage of the company paid "vacation". This included indoor snow skiing, visiting the tallest building in the world, and of course lots of shopping. Compared to Saudi Arbia, Dubai is clean, modern, and liberal. People from all nationalities can be found almost everywhere, but like Saudi, the hard labor is done primarily by workers from India, Pakistan, Bangladesh, and Sri Lanka. Filipinos make up much of sales workers and nannies, etc. probably because they are better at English. My instuctors at the training center were all European (Norwegian, French, and Portugese). The hotel staff was very international as well, as was the staff at the airline. In fact I don't think we ever interacted with a single Emiratti! Because of its proximity to many poor countries, Dubai, as many of the other Gulf states, have taken advantage of cheap labor. A significant percentage of their work force make less than $200 a month. As a result Dubai has probably one of the most amazing skylines. Buildings shaped like flowers, wheels, or even twisted licorish sticks line the beach front. Islands shaped like palm trees, or dolphines are covered with half built condos, and private beaches. It is very unreal, and seems precariously balanced on a notion that there is no end to the oil that has paid for all this lavishness. Where else can one snow ski in the desert!

Prayer at 35,000 Feet

After we level off at 35,000 feet, and establish our course eastbound from Jiddah, Saudi Arabia, the Muslim captain I'm flying with slides his seat back and says, "You have the controls, okay? I'm going to pray." A moment later he is standing with his arms crossed, hands on his wrists, facing aft toward the flight deck door. I hear him quietly reciting the Koran while he bends down with his hands on his knees, and then stands back up again. A minute later he is kneeling with his forehead on the floor, ...and then he is back up again. He does this full ritual twice while continuously reciting the Koran. The air is smooth. The sunset has left a faint glow on the horizon behind us. Mecca is less then 100 miles behind my right shoulder. I feel so lucky to be here.