
There are few things more humbling than sliding down a rubber chute in a well pressed full uniform while pretending not to scream.
Welcome to the secret world of cabin crew emergency training, where flight attendants rehearse crash landings before most people have had their morning coffee. It’s a high-stakes, high-speed, high-decibel production known as ditch training; and no, it has nothing to do with ghosting your situation-ship.
In aviation lingo, “ditching” means landing a plane on water in an emergency. For cabin crew, it also means mentally running through 300 safety procedures while keeping a straight face, a firm tone, and perfectly centered lipstick.
So, what really goes through a flight attendant’s mind during these drills? Let’s open the mental overhead bin.
Scene 1: The Instructor Yells “EVACUATE!” and So Does Your Soul

You’re standing by the emergency exit. Your heart is racing, but you channel your inner drill sergeant. You yell “EVACUATE, EVACUATE!” like it’s your personal Oscar moment. You throw open the door and watch the inflatable slide deploy like an angry air mattress with attitude.
External voice: Calm, clear, confident.
Internal voice: “Please don’t trip. Please don’t trip. What if I accidentally take someone out with the megaphone?!”
You remind yourself that in a real emergency, you’d be responsible for evacuating over 400 people, some barefoot, some confused, old, sick, children, drunk, pregnant… You get the gist; all panicked out of their heads.
No pressure at all.
Scene 2: The Smoke Drill a.k.a. Hide and Seek
The room fills with theatrical smoke. It’s like a low-budget horror movie, only you’re the hero… and also the lighting crew, first aider, fire fighter, sound operator, and superhero. You crawl on the floor, yelling “Is anyone there?!” while trying not to bang your knee on the seats.
What you’re supposed to think:
“Check for passengers. Collect vital safety equipments. Maintain one purposeful direction. Use emergency commands as per SOP (Standard Operating Procedures).”
What you’re actually thinking:
“Isn’t that the rude passenger who declined to show me their boding pass? Also, did I just lose an eyelash? Now there is going to be a flight delay for sure…smh.”
You emerge coughing but victorious, like a smoky phoenix. VOILA! Another day, another life saved.
Scene 3: Life Jackets and the Great Flotation Device Fumble
Ah-yes! The life jacket drill. That beautiful, orange or yellow flotation balloon that no one inflates correctly during the first time. True story.
During training, you get one chance to pull the cords and look confident while doing it. However, one wrong pull yank and POOF! You’ve just slapped yourself in the face with compressed air and become the laughing stock, or a failure in the eyes of your instructors..
Instructor: “NEVER inflate inside the cabin!”
Crew trainee, panicking: “Too late. Boing…! Boing…!”

On the upside, you finally understand why passengers never know where the whistle is. Or the handle to the lavatory door. It clearly reads Push. Oh well, who I’m I kidding? I’m equally guilty as charged.
Scene 4: Door Drills, or How I Learned to Respect the Lever
Aircraft doors aren’t just heavy. Yo!They’re “if-you-pull-this-wrong-you-might-deploy-a-slide-into-a-wall or an engineer walking by” heavy and scary. Training on them feels like being trusted with a medieval catapult, except you’re wearing tights and heels.
Every crew member has a quiet fear of opening the wrong door at the wrong time, causing an accidental slide deployment that costs more than your salary for a year. Pro tip: You are now statistic so don’t be that person. No airline ever forgets.
So, Why All the Drama?
Because if the day ever comes when “brace position” is more than just a phrase from your safety demo or video, cabin crew have exactly 90 seconds to get everyone off that aircraft.
Not 91. Definitely not 92! Not “let me finish my movie.” Just 90 seconds of mayhem, noise, fear marinated into one puddle of chaotic porridge.
That’s why they scream at invisible passengers, crawl through smoke, all while freezing their perfectly shaped eyebrows off. It’s not for the thrill. It’s for your survival, and theirs.
But Also, It’s a Bit of a Power Trip
Let’s be honest. There’s a moment when you’ve nailed all the commands, opened the exit like a BAWS, and owned that evacuation then thought to yourself, “I could definitely lead an army out of a zombie apocalypse.”
Cabin crew aren’t just coffee servers. They’re crisis ninjas. Trained to lead, respond, and protect while people scream their lungs out, and tray tables flap around like deranged seagulls.
Hence, when you ignore the safety demo, just remember that overly smiley person in the jump seat? They’re rehearsing 200 ways to save your life, even if you forgot to fasten your seatbelt for the fifth time.
Bottom line?
Cabin crew might ditch in the simulator, but they never ditch responsibility in the sky.
And that’s DEFINATELY worth more than a free upgrade.

