Kindness of Strangers

Buying plane tickets is one of the most torture-inducing parts of planning a RTW trip.  I am fortunate that Maikael has almost exclusively handled this part of the planning process.  Still, it’s gotten to the point where I can’t even be in the same room when Maikael is calling the airlines:  it makes both me and him nervous when I’m there, so it’s best if I just leave. 

We thought we were done dealing with complicated ticket purchase processes when we bought our RTW tickets in April.  We’ve been avoiding buying our South American Airpasses (SAA) knowing, deep down, that it was going to be harder than we wanted it to be.  By means of explanation, the SAA (offered through LAN Chile, who partners with American Airlines) is used to supplement our RTW ticket.  Because we only get four stopovers per continent, and expect to explore South America extensively, we are able to add on additional “a la carte” flights at a relatively low cost. 

One of the reasons we bought our RTW ticket through American Airlines is that it made us eligible for deep discounts with the SAA.  However, after spending too many days this week charting our course through South America, we learned that there are actually two SAA options:  one offered directly through LAN Chile and the other offered through American Airlines vis a vis LAN Chile.  Both were different birds, offering different fares, routing options, and rules.  Comparing the relative pros and cons of each plan quickly became a classic exercise in comparing apples to oranges.  (We eventually purchased our Airpass directly through LAN Chile, which cost a bit more but was ultimately a more feasible transaction that involved less hair-pulling.)

The only saving grace of this process is making phone calls to LAN Chile, which is probably the only time in my life that I will say ”fun” and “airlines” in the same breath.  The phone rings once, like it normally does when you’re placing a phone call; then, the tone modulates down a half step, giving the impression that you have now crossed international waters.  Strains of pan flute music waft over the phone line as you hold for the next available representative. Their reservationists are kind, polite, reserved, and competent.   But the best part is the woman whose voice appears on the recorded message.  We’re not sure what accent she might have, but she seems to be channeling some cross between Fantasia Barrino from Season 3 of American Idol and The Girl from Ipanema.  All of her “s”s sound like “sh”s.  She kindly asks us to “presh sheven” if we have already purchased a ticket, or to stay on the line for “more optionshs.”  She also warns us that our calls may be monitored to “enshursh quality ashurish.” 

I’m sure none of this would seem so funny if I wasn’t completely exhausted these days.  But last Wednesday night, when we called at 9:45 pm, only to discover that our reservation had been cancelled due to a misunderstanding of Zulu time versus Miami time, I needed to laugh.  So Maikael and I called over and over again, listening to the recorded meshage, laughing great guffaws until tears streamed down my face.