English version follows after the Afrikaans version.
JFK lughawe lyk soos enige ander lughawe in Suid-Afrika, met sy lang gange, wat voel of dit nerens lei, totdat jy die doeane lokaal binne stap …. onmiddellik weet jy jy is ver van die huis af. Alles is anders. Vergete is lang toue wat wag om deur paspoort beheer te gaan. ‘n Saal vol blikbreine staar jou aan wanneer jy die area betree. Jy sien terloops dat almal wat in die ‘non-resident’ tou ingeval het, iewers by ‘n blikbrein staan, baie besig om al jou inligting wat jy van jouself beskikbaar het met hom te deel – toemaar dit is darem nie so erg nie.
Blikbrein gee jou ‘n keuse van verskillende tale, ongelukkig is Afrikaans nie een daarvan nie. 😜 Natuurlik kan ek Engels praat, dus gaan ekvoort in die rooinek taal, of is dit dalk nou Yankee taal? Hy vra jou vir watter rede jy hier is : besigheid of plesier en nog ander opsies. Jy kies maar so kombinasie van besigheid en plesier en land op met keuse B2. Nou vra hy jou om eers jou visa te skandeer, dit is vir hom baie belangriker as jou paspoort 🙃. Dan moet ek gou vir hom glimlag en ‘n selfie neem. My man slaag die toets met vlieende vaandels, by my soek blikbrein my vinger afdrukke. Skielik spoeg hy ‘n ‘kwitansie’ uit met ‘n hewige kruisie bo-oor my inligting. Oops, wat het ek tog nou verkeerd gedoen? Ek bestudeer die selfie en kom tot die ontdekking dat ek van die tyd wat die visa fotos geneem is, tot nou toe ongeveer 10kg gewig verloor het en boonop besluit het om grys te word. Blikbrein vertrou nie die vrede nie – waar het jy nou al van ‘n vrou gehoor wat haarself grys verklaar 😂 Ongelukkig ken hy my nie, ek is te grys vir woorde. My vriende luv my dan so baie 😜
Nou ja, die tannie by die doeane maak toe baie gou haar eie gevolgtrekkings. Vroue kom mos darem van Venus af, blikbreine weet nog nie waar hulle vandaan kom nie…… en daar gaan ons, gryp ons tasse en spring op die Sky trein om ons motor by Hertz te gaan opeis.
Hertz is te oulik vir woorde. In Suid-Afrika kies jy ‘n motor, bv. in die B-klas. Aanlyn vertel die agent vir jou dat jy kwalifiseer vir ‘n Toyota Corolla. As jy gelukkig is, kry jy per toeval ‘n VW Polo. Wee die dag as jy daar aankom en ‘n Toyota Auris wag vir jou. Sy skerms sit almal in die middel van die motor – gemaak vir links of regs bestuur. Jy kan maar op jou kop staan. Die agent verstaan nie dat jy al aandele in VW SA besit vanaf 1978 af nie. Toyota is jou voorland. Ek hou van Hertz – hulle stuur jou uit buite toe en laat jou self kies watter soort motor jy in ‘n spesifieke klas wil he.
Manlief reken iemand het die Ford Focus Tatanium op die verkeerde plek geparkeer – hy is net te luuks vir wat ons gekies het. ‘n Verhitte stuurwiel en motor sitplekke, sowel as ‘n ingeboude GPS en satalliet radio maak die pad Summit toe sommer baie korter.
JFK airport looks like any other airport in South Africa, with its long corridors, which feels as if it leads you to nowhere until you reach the customs office. Immediately you know you are very far from home. Everything is different. Forgotten are long queues waiting to pass through passport control. When you enter the customs area a sea of online-computors are waiting to be of service to you. Everyone who has fallen in a non-resident row is standing at a computer, very busy to share all their information available to the network!
It gives you a choice of different languages; unfortunately, Afrikaans is not one of them. Of course, I can speak English, so I quickly checked English, or maybe it’s Yankee language? You go through a questionnaire in which the computer ask you for what reason you are here: business or pleasure and other options.
You chose a combination of business and pleasure and landed up with choice B2. Secondly, it asks you first to scan your visa, it is much more important to him than your passport.
After that, I had to smile quickly for the camera and take a selfie. My husband passes the test with flying banners, I had to enter my fingerprints. Suddenly it throws out a “receipt” with a big cross on my information. Oops, what did I do wrong? I studied the selfie and came to the discovery that, from the time that the visa photos were taken, up to now, I have lost about 10kg of weight and also decided and also decided not to colour my hair anymore. The computer did not trust all these changes – where have you heard of a woman who declared herself grey? Unfortunately, he does not know me, I look quite distinguished with my grey hair, and my friends love it.
The lady at the customs made her own conclusions. Women, however, come from Venus, men can’t remember where they come from … and there we go, grabbed our bags and jumped on the Skytrain to collect our car at Hertz.
Hertz is a fabulous car rental company. In South Africa, you choose a vehicle, e.g., in the B-class. Online, the agent tells you that you qualify for a Toyota Corolla. If you’re lucky, you’ll get a VW Polo by chance. When you arrive there, Toyota Auris is waiting for you. The screens are all in the middle of the car – made for left or right-hand drivers. You can stand on your head. The agent does not understand that you own shares in VW SA since 1978. You have to drive the Toyota if you love it or not.
I love Hertz’s policy – they send you out to the vehicles and let you choose what kind of car you want in the particular class that you booked.
Pieter reckoned that someone parked the Ford Focus Titanium in the wrong parking bay – it’s just too luxury to be in the class that we have booked. A Heated steering wheel as well as heated car seats, together with a built-in GPS and satellite radio, made the road to Summit so much shorter.
Reismal 