BAGHDAD ADVENTURE—DAY 2: HEADING TO BAGHDAD IN SERGEI’S HOUSE—PART III—NON-VERBAL COMMUNICATION

It quickly becomes obvious to me that the Ukranian crew of the Ilyushin II-76 are masters of non-verbal communication. I am offered a seat behind the three main flight crew as we take off from Maastricht airfield. What I notice, immediately, are the subtle ways in which the pilot, the co-pilot, the flight engineer and the two electricians who sit behind them, communicate with one another. There is no question of authority—these are old school Russians, ex-military, and there’s a definite chain of command. Anatoly the Captain is clearly in charge. As we taxi down the runway I can tell that his touch on the wheel is gentle yet decisive. I marvel at the subtle motions he makes with his leather-gloved hands, coaxing the heavy bird into the sky.

But as we are taking off, there is a problem with a couple of the gauges. Anatoly turns his head to gain the attention of the electrician, sitting behind him and to my left, and points to the suspect dials. In an instant, the electrician produces a thin metal box from somewhere—beneath his seat I think—with perhaps ten rows of tiny light bulbs neatly arranged in order of size. There must be at least a hundred different categories. Between himself and the captain, they end up trying three before getting the right ones for the job. And again, what is the most interesting part of this interchange is how it all operated without words. Although the crew in the front seats speak on headsets, the two electricians behind them do not. So what is communicated between pilot and electricians is all done by eye, by expression hand signs, and by mental transference. The last of this list is by no means the least important. I am sure it is no co-incidence that the Russians (I’m including the Ukraine and all the other former states of the Soviet Union in the word "Russia") are so interested in extra-sensory perception—they are so good at it!

As we head towards our first refueling stop in Athens, I start to formulate a theory about all this. I’m thinking that their skill at non-verbal communication comes from their propensity for quiet. I picture Russians spending long, cold Siberian winters sitting silent in front of the fire sipping Vodka. I have more than twenty years practicing non-verbal communication with my wife who embodies the Swedish version of knowing how to be quiet. Swedes are pretty good at it—but not in the same league as Russians.

To give you some idea of what I’m talking about, Americans are at the exact opposite end of the chart. We are the most open so therefore the least likely to know how to communicate by mental telepathy. Although, having said this, I know some Americans who are actually pretty tuned in to it.

Does any of this make any sense to you? Do you know what I mean?