The Sentinel (every week)

Yeah, I know it sounds too good to be true. The Sentinel traditionally only comes out every three weeks. That means you, the anxious reader, has to wait approximately 21 days. That means 21 days without news from the college by the lake. That means 21 days without finding out what is going on with ASNIC, the drama department so on and so forth.

Well, no more.

From now on the Sentinel website will be updated, weekly. Giving you, the anxious reader, your much needed fix.

So, stop whining and click here...

or...

Here.

And I'm back

Well I’m back. There is nothing too dramatic to tell about my return. Although my trip did change my life it isn’t a dramatic life change. It’s more of a subtle life change. I would say I’m a different person because of my new experiences, but it isn’t anything dramatic (like I don’t have pink hair). I don’t think it’s possible to experience so many different things and not be changed, at least a bit.

But despite all of this, or perhaps because of all of this, transition back into my life in Coeur d’Alene hasn’t been too hard. For the first week or so it didn’t really feel like my life. It felt familiar, but it just didn’t fit right.

That is passing, although at times I still see things from the traveling eyes. Anyways, I will catch you up on what has happened since my return and try to explain some of the things that I’ve noticed and felt.

I landed in the USA on May 18th. I took the flight to Minneapolis (after the airport debacle).

Minneapolis was quite a shock to me. Because I had just come from a foreign country (Holland) I had to go through customs. So, I got off the plane and came out into a type of holding area. It was separated from the rest of the airport and was highly secure. There were dozens of armed guards patrolling the whole area.

The customs officer who asked me questions managed to be both highly suspicious and completely uninterested. He was a big strong guy with angry looking eyes. He asked me a series of fairly innocent questions, however the tone in which he asked them made me feel like I was trying to sneak cocaine or weapons into the country.

He asked me how long I had been in Amsterdam. I corrected him saying that I had actually been in Holland, not Amsterdam. I don’t think he appreciated that.

Anyways he cleared me for entry and as I was leaving said in a machine like voice “Welcome to the USA”.

I sure didn’t feel welcomed.

After making it through that ordeal I had to go through a security check. Although I always found foreign security checks pretty comprehensive, the one in the USA definitely took the cake. They made me take of my shoes (I had forgotten about that). They made me partially unpack my bags (so the X-ray machine could get a better view). It was a new level of security. It was American style security.

And then I was through. There I was back in my home country. It felt great. Even though it was a bland corporate looking airport lobby, it was still the USA.

I immediately headed toward my next gate (I really didn’t want to miss this plane). While I was walking there I began to notice something kind of startling. I began to notice how many obese people there were.

Yes, there are plenty of fat people in Holland. But not the kind of fat I began to see walking through Minneapolis. Americans are a different kind of fat.

It was really startling. I didn’t think that it would be such a difference between Holland and the USA, but it was.

I got to my gate, sat down and began to soak it all in. I could understand everything being said around me. For a minute or two it was awesome. I eavesdropped on people’s conversations (something I hadn’t been able to do in Holland). I listened to T.V.

And then I was overwhelmed. People’s conversations were mostly uninteresting (that is the price you pay for eavesdropping) and the TV was down right annoying. It was FOX News (not my favorite new source by any means) and they were pretending to report on the Swine Flu. I wouldn’t call it reporting. No, they were actively trying to make people scared. At one point the talking head said, “It seems like people are beginning to forget about the swine flu. But they shouldn’t! It is one of the most deadly flu’s of all time.”

I felt like puking. It’s not that the Dutch media is any better. I just couldn’t understand them. So I turned on my I-Pod and drowned out the chaos.

Well, I got on the plane without a problem and took off for Seattle, Washington. I was squeezed between a very obese woman, and her very small baby, and a fairly large man. The woman was very nice and we talked a bit. The man didn’t say a word the whole flight.

And then I was in Seattle. I met my brother Leo Francovich (see picture) there. It was so wonderful to see him. We then went to Seattle University and spent the night with two friends of mine from high school.

The next day Leo and I jumped on a Greyhound bus and headed home. The bus ride was great. Leo and I talked nearly the whole time. It was interesting seeing the type of people on the bus. In Holland and India everyone uses public transportation. Businessmen use it, students use it and poor people use it.

It’s different in America. Almost everyone on the bus looked like they were poor. Judging by the their conversations (that I eavesdropped on) they were uneducated and fairly ignorant of things happening outside of their direct sphere of experience.

One woman described very loudly what a loser her ex-husband is. She also decided to tell us that he would probably show up to the bus station drunk (and she was going to get a ride home with him, in his car, great choice).

And then I was back in Spokane. My father Chris Francovich (see picture) met Leo and I there.

We went to dinner at a place called Noodle Express (not the classiest restaurant, but very good). There were two more shocks awaiting me there. The serving of food was huge! Things are smaller in Holland. I had gotten used to it I guess and didn’t even notice, but seeing that huge plate of Noodles brought it all back. I guess now I know why there are so many fat people in the USA.

And then there was the alcohol issue. The waitress asked us if we wanted anything to drink. My dad ordered a beer, and I remembered I wasn’t 21. That means I can’t drink alcohol. That was very strange (the drinking age in Holland is 16).

Then we drove home. I saw my mom later that night and I slowly began to weave myself back into my life.

It’s great to be home. I miss traveling, but while I was traveling I missed home. So it’s a trade off I can handle. This area of the USA is so beautiful. I absolutely love being here.

It’s good to be home.

Another airport related debaucle

Well, today was the big day. My world traveling was coming to an end. I was headed home. Ready to see my brother, my family and my American friends. I was excited, but sad. It's always hard leaving a place, especially a place as great as Holland. But still I was excited.

And then things got insane.

Let me start from the beginning.

Last night I went out with Freek, Lincy, Daan and Florian. We went to a place called Crazy Pianos. It was a club featuring two pianos, a drummer and a singer. It was really, really awesome. We stayed there until 3 am and didn't get home (we had to drive) until 4 am. Then we watched Friends until 5:30 am. Then Freek took Lincy and Florian to the train station and I went to bed.

Some hours later I awoke. The plan was to get up, have breakfast and then head off to the airport. My flight didn't leave until 1:10 pm, so I had plenty of time. I planned on being there at least two hours before, maybe even three. Again, I was seriously determined not to repeat the whole Poland incident.

Freek was making me breakfast (he is a great dude). On a whim I decided to check my e-ticket, just to make sure nothing crazy and impossible had happened.

La la la. I wasn't really paying attention. I was thinking about my toast, which I could smell in the kitchen.

And then I saw it.

It was a small little phrase. Innocent enough normally. But suddenly it was full of dark intent.

It read: “Flight rescheduled: departs 10:50 am.”

Fuccccccdge. Shit. Dang. Golly Gee. Holy Hell.

At that point it was 9:30 am.

That meant we had not nearly enough time to get to Schipol airport. Much less navigate the insanity of security, bag check etc.

But we tried. Freek drove admirably. Hurling his little Dutch car between much larger vehicles. Tailgating slow vehicles like non-other. Cursing in Dutch, English and sometimes Spanish. Honking his horn, flipping the bird.

It was almost enough. Or so we thought.

Freek screeched up to the front of the airport, I jumped out, grabbed my stuff and raced inside. Freek was going to park the car and come and see how I was doing.

I ran into the airport and dashed to the Northwest Airlines desk. I had three minutes until cheek in-time, I could do it.

And, of course, predictably even, there was a huge line.

And then lady luck reached out her blessed hand, and threw me a bone. Desperate, I approached the first check in person I saw. He was a guy, about my age, nice enough looking. I explained my situation , hoping beyond hope that he could speed things up for me.

And he did. But as he helped me he hit on me, constantly. At first I didn't notice it, he just seemed like a nice guy, and I was in a huge hurry. But then I began to realize that he was looking for a lot of eye-contact. Then he asked me if I had ever been to a certain club. I said no, but that I thought I had heard of it. Then he laughed and told me it was a gay club. I told him that I wasn't really into that kind of stuff.

I don't think he heard.

Meanwhile we were cutting through the line like a hot knife through butter. It was one of the best feelings in the world. Flying by all these folks (the second best thing to actually flying). We went up to one of his colleges (a pretty woman, a bit older than me). Together they began to check the computer system to see if I had a chance of getting on the flight.

Meanwhile, he was laying it on hot and heavy. He told me that if I missed the flight I would “have to spend the night with him”. He talked a lot about how nice and polite I was.

I was in a strange situation. I'm not gay, and even if I were, I wouldn't go for a guy like that. But I really, really wanted to get on that flight. So I didn't actively flirt. But I didn't not flirt. I just kind of let him go.

And then the pretty lady said “Oh, your plane left at 10:10”.

Wow. So, let me see, the original flight was supposed to leave at 1:10 pm. It got rescheduled to 10:50 am and then it left at 10:10 am. Wow. That makes a lot of sense to me.

So I missed my plane. The gay guy and the pretty lady directed me to a ticket booth to see if I could get the next flight to America. As I left the gay guys said,

“You go check over there, and then you come right on back to me”. I guess I'm a gold digger of a sort because once I got wanted from him I was out of there. Now way was I going back to him (but to be fair he was a nice guy, and he did help me a lot, he was just a bit aggressive with the come-ons).

Well at this point Freek joined me and we waited in line. Again lady luck smiled upon me. There were five people dealing with reservations, four of them looked like they just swallowed a lemon. The last lady looked much nicer and I got her.

I won't lie. I was as polite as I could be. In America you call it sucking up. In Holland you call it being a slimeball(spelling is wrong). Well I was all of those. I wanted to get a flight and I didn't want to pay for it.

And I didn't have to. It turns out they changed the flight a month ago and somehow forgot to email me about the change. So the fault lay with them, therefore I was able to jump on the next flight to Seattle. Unfortunately it is not a direct flight, so I arrived much later, and I had a two hour layover in Minneapolis.

However, it all worked out and I made it safely to Seattle. As I write I'm sitting in the basement of Hannah Reid's dorm. It is a nice place and I must say I'm glad that everything worked out. Son I will write about my transition from Holland to America, but not now.

Adios.