Cellist Bob Cafaro with his feet on the ground in Seoul, Korea.People always remark how exciting it must be to tour the world with the Philadelphia Orchestra, and yes it is an incredible experience most people will never know. This is my 23rd year of touring with the Orchestra and I have never missed a tour. The part I never enjoy discussing however is my affliction of motion sickness which I’ve had ever since my earliest memories. But on our flight from Seoul, Korea to Beijing, China I had an experience which inspired this story.
From my first childhood memories I was constantly getting carsick and holding my head out the window feeling terrible about messing up the side of the car. My parents kept telling me I would one day outgrow motion sickness and I’m still looking forward to that day. They were right however when they said I wouldn’t get sick when I drove the car. The first time I flew in a plane was an exciting experience as I flew from my hometown in Long Island, NY to Rochester, NY for the All State Strings Music Festival. I was in high school and was so looking forward to flying, but the euphoria was short lived as the plane encountered severe turbulence from the start. I quickly turned a shade of green - not in the sense of envy, and proceeded to learn the art of mastering the use of the air sickness bags so thoughtfully provided by the airlines. Unfortunately I would be afforded the opportunity to hone my skills in discretion every time I flew thereafter. On numerous occasions I have asked the pilot if I could fly the plane so I wouldn’t be sick, but my request has been denied so many times I don’t even ask anymore. One of my favorite moments was from my very first Philadelphia Orchestra tour in May of 1986. We were flying into Salt Lake City, Utah and the weather was atrocious, with 60 mph winds on the ground. Our flight was put in a holding pattern while traffic control debated the safety of letting us land, and just thinking about this one brings on feelings of nausea. While circling in the holding pattern the plane was break dancing and freefalling several hundred feet during each pocket of turbulence. Musicians on the plane were screaming with each plummet and I kept busy burying my face into the bag. It was sheer torture and I would have happily told anyone anything they wanted to know if only it would stop.
The flight 2 days ago into Beijing was not unusually rough but new airline security rules have hit me especially hard. I previously brought 2 quarts of my own filtered water on every flight but since bringing liquid on planes is forbidden, I now drink the 2 quarts before boarding the flight. Combine this with the breakfast buffet provided by the hotels on tour and it is a recipe for trouble. As we began our descent into Beijing the plane hit turbulence and once again the all too familiar feeling of nausea emerged. I proceeded to breath deeply and meditate, becoming a baby being rocked to sleep by my mother. This technique has worked on numerous occasions but would be of little help on this flight. I knew it was going to be a losing battle so I dug out the bag from the seat pocket and proceeded to discreetly fill it with most of the water and food from the morning buffet. As the bag was approaching capacity I noticed some apparent carelessness on the floor between my feet, which was strange because I wasn’t aware I had really been careless. Then the unthinkable happened - the bag which was full and quite heavy suddenly weighed nothing. I was too horrified to even look but when I did it was confirmed, the bottom of the bag had split open under the weight. Any hope of going unnoticed by Orchestra members around me was a forlorn hope indeed. Thankfully there was some good news here as it was a “well placed shot,” with everything landing on the floor between my feet and not on my seat, pants, sneakers or even the bag under the seat in front of me. But alas good news was not to last as my passport and Chinese immigration card which had been carelessly left on my lap this whole time fell into the excitement between my feet. My colleagues in the Orchestra who are amazing people proceeded to help by passing every bag, napkin and tissue available. I picked up the passport and proceeded with damage control using tissues, but it was clear Chinese immigration would be just overjoyed to see me. My backpacking and wilderness skills did come in handy as I left little trace of my presence upon leaving the plane, covering the misfortune with bags, napkins and tissues. When it was my turn at immigration I handed the passport to a young Chinese immigration officer who seemed unable to decide if the passport reminded her of lilacs or petunias. Having no desire to deal with it, she called over her superior officer who escorted me to his private station where he proceeded to examine the passport more carefully. After each page turn he rubbed his fingers together with an increasingly wry face then proceeded to examine the page he wanted with his up-close magnifying glass from a distance of about 1 inch from his nose. After less than a minute of this he obviously decided the aroma was not lilacs or petunias, so he conceded by handing back the passport and waving me into China.
After this it makes me wonder if anyone would really want to tour with the Orchestra. If you still do remember some rules: Number one, you have to have the stomach for it and number two, sit with someone else when we fly. :)
