Ma'am survives a minor heart attack

We ended staging with a group activity and the appointment of group leaders, and as any of you who know me already have guessed, I volunteered for the job. Yay me! We got up at the brisk hour of 4 to pack everyone in the bus and be on our way to JFK. I can now honestly say that I have driven through the heart of New York City, right past Madison Square Garden and the Empire State Building.

As we arrived at the airport it was my job as the group leader in charge of checking in to determine how 81 people were going to check their luggage in an orderly fashion;and after much confusion involving kiosks that wouldn't work and broken baggage, everyone was checked in and we made our way. Off we go! We boarded the plane after getting our seat assignments and I settled into my seat for the international flight. Very plush I might add, I had emergency row seating right next to a window for 12 hours! what more could I ask for! And then it happened. My heart attack began.

Another Peace Corps volunteer came up to me as I finished settling into my seat and said " you're in my seat"

"No, I'm in my seat"

"See, my boarding pass has this number"

" See, so does mine"

At this point the flight attendant was asked to come over and we looked at the boarding passes, only to determine that they had the same name on them, and it wasn't mine.

I walked off of the plane nd to the front desk to be told that I hadn't even been check in for the lfight in the first place, somehow I was checked in under another name. I could feel my heart seize under my shirt. "I'm not going to get on this plane" I thought "I'm not going to make it to the Philippines, all of this work will have been for nothing".

My guess is that upon seeing my face turn a nice shade of milky white the gentleman at the counter assured me that I would indeed be checked in and make it on the flight. Thank God.

I was placed in the bulkhead seating with nobody else in my row, maybe the fiasco was a miracle in disguise.

We arrived in the Philippines to a nice crowd of Peace Corps volunteers and taken to our hotel for the week. This hotel is beautiful and the weather is humid. One thing that I cannot seem to get over though is the idea that every pinoy calls everyone else Ma'am or Sir. "Please Ma'am" the gentleman says as he reaches for my water glass in the morning, "Good morning Ma'am" the lady walking down the hall says, "how are you Ma'am" the man says as he opens the doors for me. Ma'am?? I'm too young to be a Ma'am! My mom says she's even too young to be a Ma'am. Ma'am?